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the-deeds-to-shibden · 2 years

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Monday 13 July 1840

[up at] 4 35/..

[to bed at] 11 35/..

very fine sunny morning Reaumur 15 1/2 and Fahrenheit 67+° at 5 40/.. at which hour all ready and the men came in to pack – on horseback at 6 5/.. (had given the prince’s cuisinier 1/. silver très content) the prince came up to wish goodbye and to give us 2 papers in Georgian, one to the chef at Outsére for accommodation and another also for Outséré ordering us an escort – not take less than 4 men in going to Gloga, to the acidulated – to inquire at Outséré if we could get safely to Vladicavkas must pass thro’ an independent country – 2 men killed thereabouts lately – the prince very civil – all this took us till 6 20/.. and then off from Khotévi where we have really been very well housed for these parts spite of the rain on Saturday –

our octagon (very pretty) dome 3 inches thick deals retiring lapping over 2 inches out per 3 inches the lap seemed equal to the thickness – at 6 35/.. alighted for 1/4 hour at the old castle for Ann to see it – beautiful morning – line of high mountains clear – did I note last night the vaulted reservoir of good spring water according to Dubois roof not much above the ground – little door and 3 or 4 steps down into reservoir – full – outside about 5 yards or 4 3/4 x 3 1/2 – there might have been about 16 steps up to door entering oval tower – the church on pinnacle of high wooded hill mountain seen from Khotévi, Koo-ar-rat-sikhé, tho’ a church Bashna (Russian) not a castle near high above us right (distant) at 7 40/.. when cross the river (the Chotévi) that we had had all along running down in deep ravine close right and turn right to the krepost of Quāvărtsikhé the ancient residence country palace of the kings of Imeretia – at 7 3/4 we were nearly opposite the picturesque little scattered village of Ăh-hālt-spē`nĕ’, on hill side (plateau) on the other side the Chotévi – 2 other villages (dĕrēvnĕe) on our side at no great distance – our valley that we had turned into running east very picturesque and well cultivated and sprinkled with picturesque little hamlets – with a little stream down the middle of it – crossed and recrossed the river several times – at 8 3/4 we were toiling up steepish hill to the Krepost – and looking down upon the woody, corny, well villaged valley – waited a little for new guide from a village we had pass[ed] close by – our Koutaïs guide does not know the way to anything hereabouts nor even our guide from Khotévi – the fort ruined by Totleben in 1777 at the same time as Vartsiklé and Bagdad with the castle of the then King Salomon, lest they should fall into hands of Turkey or Persia – this fort very picturesque – perched on top of middle and largest of 3 jests of calcareous rock yellowish white sprinkled over with hazels etc. as seen from below in the valley but now on the hill a 4th jet behind the other 3 – all in one line up the valley longitudinally, dividing it into 2 gorges with a sort of cirque green valley at the back – pass a cottage and descended to foot of fortress rock and alight under a walnut tree (14 feet 6 inches circumference 2 feet from ground) to breakfast at 9 10/.. – while breakfast was setting out sketched the east end of the old castle standing rather to the north – vide rough book – breakfast from 10 to 11 Reaumur in my bag in the shade of walnut tree 20 1/4° and Fahrenheit 77 1/2° at 11 1/4 a.m. and open close under the tree where I am writing now at 12 50/.. p.m. with delightful gentle breeze (fine refreshing air that blows leaves and my papers about) Reaumur 21 2/3° and Fahrenheit 81° – Ann is stretched on her burca fast asleep close by me and all the men are asleep on the grass close by –

Dubois was not here – and we must return to where we left the Baragone road at 7 40/.. = 1 1/2 hour and then suppose 14 or 15 versts to go to sleep middle way the valley of Baragone chez prince Grégoire Eristaf – I understood the employé on Sunday the Krepost here was manned and 6 cannon here – deserted – a year or 2 since they now say – the cannon left but not a soul – terribly hot in the sun but I will try to reconnoitre – [written on] Tuesday 14 July left Ann asleep and off alone at 1 10/.. – South side – look down into beautiful valley the other branch prong of our valley divided into 2 by the line of fortress rock – river on South side – the fortress rock certainly inaccessible South side – walked along the bottom of this side the rock, à pic, 200 to 300 feet high – at last spied a little cleft and saw in the bottom of the castle wall reaching down to top of the cleft – scrambled up with difficulty – the hole did not furnish the means of getting into the castle – scrambled down again took me 20 minutes – I had had 50 minutes toil for nothing back to Ann at 2 – a man with a ladder waiting to go with us into the castle – Ann staid behind sketching – took George and Adam – broiling walk into the cleft below us and then up along the traverses thro’ the wood to the west end – then (quick going) in 10 minutes at 2 1/4 – castle of Quār-vă-tsikhĕ – all the little villages round about are called one village named Swār-văh – five pieces of cannon, 2 largish same size as at Gori, one bomb, and 2 swivels of the time of the tzar Salomon – one with inscription in Georgian – Adam said it signified the cannon of Salomon (I having told him it was so[)] and the other part the date which he did not tell – 1 piece of cannon afterwards (size of the larger) near the escalier wood gallery that hung over the cleft (South side) I had scrambled up – there must have been stairs up the cleft communicated with a covered passage and this leading on to the wood gallery that opened into the castle by 15+ feet from the hole in the foundation wall that I got to – we entered west – square tower

with corners rounded to above top of door à la Teutone – beautiful view – rich winding thickly peopled wooded corny valley with its picturesque stream Chrēē-ăh-kăh running down to the river Khotévi – and valley thickly peopled round its wide circular head at the back of the castle rock, to the east – off from the castle at 3 – back at 3 18/.. en nage, my mouth quite parched – the 2 men (George and Adam) 1/2 undressed – smoking with heat – at 3 35/.. Reaumur 32° and Fahrenheit 104 1/2 near our walnut tree in glimmer of sun – we had the full sun upon us the latter part of the way – the heat must then have equalled Reaumur 35°+ – on returning had a mouthful of bread and butter and held water in my mouth till warm enough to swallow – castle inaccessible north South and east – the calcareous strata of rock at angle of 45° 200 or 300 feet high perpendicular – wind up steep at west end – low narrow door and passage – then 4 yards square room with little low fire-place – then irregular court – castle irregular but oval according to shape of top of rock which it exactly occupies – the 2 diameters inside court about 70 and 40 yards – narrow gallery walk all round along the parapet wall – several of the timbers that supported it still sticking out from the wall – communication by this parapet gallery from square entrance tower to another habitation a few yards distant littleish room with chimney – then continuation of parapet gallery to a platform rooms underneath it? near the great breach (northeast) originally a large window at top of it? then round tower – the wooden escalier and gallery gone, and the door high[er] by several feet than the west entrance door therefore our 5 step 18 to 20 inch rises ladder 3 or 4 feet too short for the other not usable now – sorry could not get into this tower – up to the lower part of this round tower (the donjon keep?) a little church 4 yards x 3? then continuation of parapet gallery all round and machicolations or meu[r]trières loop holes – wherever these are not it is presumable there was some inhabited building – old entrance south over where I climbed up – 10 years since the Russians left this fort a little building or two more south side towards west end – very interesting old castle – the exterior still nearly perfect and apparently the round tower perfect – gave the man who went with us and carried the ladder one abasse très content – the jew peeped into his hand to see what I had given him and grinned and said it was otchen charasho –

off at 4 10/.. – back at the High road at 6 25/.. cross the Khotèvi river over wood bridge at Āmbrălĕeōōlĭ (with square tower Essa of Dubois?[)] and turn right leaving the tower and little church and 2 or 3 picturesque neat houses a little distance and in 3 or 4 minutes at the Rioni – (Phase Rion) – beautiful valley – picturesque cottages well peopled fine valley – wide, streamy, rapid, white muddy islandy Rion – enter the ecluse at 6 2/.. – frail wooden bridge – all dismounted in going over it and went singly – had to wait (Ann and I) near ten minutes that not over bridge (fortified little castle tower like building pushed into the rock) till 6 1/2 – corn (wheat and barley no oats) everywhere ripe, and the people shearing – men and women – schist rocks begin at the ecluse right – I thought the princes house was just above us (left) on leaving the ecluse, at village of Tzissé – enquired of boy – did not know – did not persist in sending Adam to inquire rode on to the handsome church – there at 7 1/4 – no prince – Adam said he had left there yesterday and gone to his house at Tzisse (where I thought he was) – returned – up hill steep narrow bad road – arrived [written on] Thursday 16 July at 7 50/.. chez le prince Yorghi Metōlich Eristavi sous capitaine – very graciously received – he apologized for not being dressed – did not see his wife because she not dressed – should see tomorrow – he not well – had spit blood for the last 2 or 3 months – under the care of M.D. at Gori (100 versts off across the country) who had taken him off wine, tea, coffee all meat but chicken and mutton, and given him a white saline powder to take 3 times a day – the having no wine a great deprivation – drinks 5 or 6 glasses at a meal morning and night – about 2 bottles a day – no great deal for this country – only makes wine for his own consumption 2 sorts – red and white – had tea brought about 8 1/2 or after – had asked for semovar to prepare our own tea etc. but he would furnish us with everything himself – he had ordered bread to be baked and we had a nice hot large thin fat cake like Tiflis barley-cake but of wheat flour – great deal of wheat everywhere, but all bearded – from 10 to 11 supper – each a a /Anne’s repetition/ plate of a sort of soup with little pieces of mutton in it (excellent) and 2 dishes of boiled mutton and a dish of roast fowl cut up, and 3 sots of bread thin as before and 2 thicker sorts of cake the one long and narrow the other round size of good muffin – we had his white lighter sort of wine – rather brisk – very pleasant – Ann drank 3 or 4 or 5 of her little tumblers (about as many English wine glasses) and I 5 or 6 or my rather larger little tumbler – our prince had supped with us – wished him good night – complimented his good cheer – threw off my pelisse and threw myself on the divan (Ann at the other end of it) and in a few minutes fast asleep – very fine day Reaumur 20 1/4° at 11 1/2 p.m. –

Anne’s marginal notes:

Leave Khotévi.

Take escort at Outséré

no! Bashna tower – castle tower the single square towers

Quarvatskikhé

Baragone.

Prince Yorghi Metolich Eristaf.

WYAS pages: SH:7/ML/E/24/0151 SH:7/ML/E/24/0152

#anne lister #ann walker #anne lister code breaker #gentleman jack #diary1840unannotated #russianempire1840 #georgia1840

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hajimeiwaswife · 2 years

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AUGUST | CHAPTER 2: WORKING LIFE

[Masterlist]

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Summary: You're marrying Izuku Midoriya in September, but he gets an emergency call from All Might's old agency in the U.S., requesting his services for the entirety of August. A death threat directed at you for being his partner has his hair on edge. However, the always responsible, caring and heroic Shoto Todoroki comes to your rescue, offering to take care of you for the whole month. Who would have thought that 31 days were enough to make you reconsider your engagement with the number 1 hero and fall in love with the Icy Hot man who held your hand during the last breeze of summer?

Warnings: Everyone is 25 more or less, mentions of death threats, 1st person pov.

Wc: +4,9 K

Playlist

The sound of my alarm indicated it was 7:30 a.m. and that I needed to wake up to go to work. There was a very humid and hot ambience in the room, summer's blame, though that didn't stop me from curling on my side carrying the sheets stick to my sweaty skin and try to look for my fiancé, who should be sleeping peacefully next to me.

Although, he wasn't there. I would say the bed was cold, but the insufferable heat of August prevented the place from being under 21º Celsius. I frowned, moving my arm up and down his side of the bed searching for him, only to remember the previous morning and all the events that took place.

'It's true, I spent an hour talking with him by phone' I thought, opening my eyes with apathy and sighing, realizing I wouldn't have a domestic morning with Izuku for a month, I better started getting used to it.

I took my phone from the nightstand and unblocked it, watching the notifications from my social media. A couple messages from Izuku made me smile like a fool, cooing at his adorable personality and wanting nothing more than fill his face with kisses and smooches as he deserved.

From: Izuku <3

Goodnight, darling! Rest well and take care of yourself. I already miss you and your voice.

Going to sleep without you reading by my side afterhours is harder than I ever thought it would be.

I love you so much <3.

I'm sorry! Just realized you'll see this when you wake up so, good morning! Have a good day! Remember to eat and don't overwork yourself! I love you <3.

He was such a cutie, always reminding me of how much he loved me. I sent him a good morning message, too, telling him how much I missed him already. I wished I could wait in bed for a reply from him, but it was 7:40 a. m. already; Todoroki was coming in half an hour and I still needed to have breakfast, have a shower, get dress and do my makeup.

I hate work.

The silence in the apartment was peaceful and, at the same time, depressing. My fiancé was a very chatty man, liking to talk about his hero work and his sidekicks' quirks, analysing every single detail of them for me. Not having him around murmuring something every few minutes was bizarre to say the least, and so breakfast was mostly boring while I entertained myself with TikTok.

After tidying everything up, I went to the bathroom for a very deserved and needed shower. 1st of August and the heat was as bad as living in the centre of the Earth, I really was mourning my bed just from thinking about working with the too hot day that we had.

My showers were of the type of having a whole class of middle schoolers coming after me to reprimand me about climate change. Yes, twenty minutes under the water, lost in thought while scrabbing under my knees and in between my toes; under the armpits and around my breasts. In resume, I would scrab my whole body as if I had been fighting against a villain and got myself covered in dirt and blood. Please, to whoever listens to this tale, scrab your whole body in every shower you take.

So of course, when I got out and saw that it was 8:05 a. m., I nearly fall to the grown while running, no, skidding down the corner of my room to get to my desk chair and take the clothes I had prepared the day before. Nothing too fancy, just typical office clothes. Kidding, I liked to feel comfortable and fancy in my clothes, I would be the hottest and sexiest woman to set a foot on the planet. If I had to go to work, at least I had to have some stimulation from somewhere.

So, as fast as I could, I got dressed and started applying my makeup, the exact amount I liked. I was starting to apply the base when the bell rang. I looked at the clock and it was 8:10 a. m., not a minute before not a minute after. 'Damn, Todoroki is really punctual.' I thought, washing my hands and walking to the door with my not even half-done makeup.

There he was once I opened the door, standing outside in his hero costume, face stoic as ever. Before even greeting, he looked at my face and I wondered if he thought I looked ridiculous, but was too polite, or too unbothered, to address it. I stepped to the side, leaving enough space for him to come in.

"Good morning, Todoroki-san."

"Shoto."

"Uh?" I asked flabbergasted, I was expecting a good morning back.

"That's my hero name." he replied, unbothered, and stepped in only giving me a small nod.

So, he wanted me to address him by his hero name? It made sense, but it felt strange to do so, especially because his hero name was the same as his first name and I felt uncomfortable with it, feeling as if I was overstepping a line I didn't even want to cross. Though, seemed I had no other option, and he had clarified he meant it as in his hero name, so, no harm was done, right?

"Um, do you want anything to drink? Have you had breakfast? Please, take a sit." I rambled after closing the main door and walking to the middle of the living room, where he was waiting for me.

"No, thank you." he paused for a moment and I stood there, expecting him to say something else. "I would be grateful if you finished getting ready, though, you have five minutes left before walking to the office."

I was deadpanned, feeling my face mimicking the blank expression anime characters would do when they feel called out. Not wanting to receive another somewhat reprimand first hour in the morning, I turned around with my eyebrows lifted and eyes wide and walked to my bathroom again, finishing my makeup as fast as I could.

When the last fine tune of lipstick was applied, I looked at the clock again. '8:20 a. m., just in time.' I rushed to the living room to take my purse with my belongings and put it on. Before keeping my phone too I observed the screen, hoping for a message from Izuku, but nothing. Poor thing was probably sleeping or worse: working.

I sighed and closed my purse, Shoto was already waiting at the door and opening it. "Thanks!" I said, taking the keys and locking the door once the hero was out the apartment.

I observed the pro-hero, a man of few words, indeed. The elevator trip to the hall was silent, and so were the first few meters of walking before the screams of joy and whispers surrounded us. 'It's Shoto!', 'So handsome! Look at those arms, uff.', 'Isn't that Deku's girlfriend?', 'Shoto! Shoto!'.

I was used to it all, every single outing with Izuku meant hearing his fans and admirers calling out for him, shouting praises or simply acknowledging him; there was no way it would have been different for Shoto, the third-best hero of the world. But, contrary to my adorable fiancé, who would usually greet them with a smile and a wave of his hand, Shoto continued walking without paying much attention to those calling for him.

I found it strange, his popularity rank was nothing but high. However, he was ignoring his fans, even the little kids who were pointing at him to their parents. "Um, Todoro— I mean, Shoto, can I ask you a question?" he hummed in reply, his eyes still focused straight ahead, "Why don't you greet your fans?"

"I'm working." he said, not tearing his eyes apart from the path.

I didn't say anything else, taking his reply as Bible word. I had already forgotten about the death threat and why he was supposed to take care of me; I had been so frightened the day before, but the lack of 'villain movement' and threat had me convinced that, whoever sent the letter, was only joking.

Two minutes later, Deku's Agency stood up in front of us. I swallowed the groan of irritation that was about to leave my throat at the thought of the mountain of work I would have. Izuku being in the U. S. meant too many translations from English and probably Spanish to Japanese, and I was beyond tired and done with capitalism to really be motivated.

"We're here." Shoto commented, as if I couldn't see the massive building in front of us.

"Yes." I nodded, still mentally preparing myself for what was coming. "Thank you, Shoto."

"You're welcome. I'll come at 17:00 p. m. to fetch you. Call me if you're in danger."

I nodded again, bowing to him and thanking him again. "See you later, then."

He didn't reply, just stood there while I entered the building and passed the security process. "Hello, Yuma!" I greeted the security guard, who smiled back at me and waved before letting me in.

"Good morning, Y/n! How are you?"

"Great! Ready for work." I lied, he just hummed with his smile still in his face. "What about you?"

"Same, actually. Have a good day!" he bid farewell once I got access to my elevator.

"You too!"

The elevator doors closed and then I released the groan I didn't before, I really didn't feel like working. And I felt less motivated when I sat in my office, having some peers coming from time to time to send me more paperwork to translate. Hero law this, hero policy that, everything was so boring and monotone.

The only good part of the morning, apart from lunch break, was when Akari came to see me, she had that look on her face she did when some good gossip was stuck in her chest. My grin only grew when she took a deep breathe, signal that what was about to come was great.

"Riku, the one from countability, is cheating on his boyfriend with fucking Haruki! Can you believe it!?"

"No way!" I gasped, actually surprised by the information.

"Yeah, unbelievable," she scoffed, sitting on the chair in front of mine, separated only by my desk and looking too indignant for a relationship that wasn't hers, "have you seen his boyfriend? He's a snack, I can assure you, and very nice, too! I talked to him on the last Office Party and he was so lovely, I can't believe Riku is doing him dirty with Haruki."

"It makes no sense." I shook my head, "Haruki? Really? He's a fucking freak."

"Right!? Thank you! Hina said I was being cruel." she pouted, crossing her arms on her chest.

"What about Mei?"

"Hatsume?" I nodded, "She didn't give a clear answer, she was murmuring about one of her—"

"Babies." we said at the same time, rolling our eyes and laughing. "Yeah, Izuku told me she's working on a new device for everyone's costumes, so she's kinda busy."

"And as she doesn't like working or anything," Akari's sarcastic comment made me snort. "Now seriously, she needs therapy. She's workaholic! It's alarming."

"Izuku says she was like that during high school, too."

"Not surprised at all."

I didn't like working, that much was true, but I loved some of my peers. Emphasizing on 'some'. Hina, Akari and Mei were my favourite without question, my three girls were along with Izuku what didn't have me throwing myself out of the window in that damned office. Ever since I entered the office when I graduated, Mei and Akari became in my besties for life, being my age and spending too much time together was what made us bond. Mei worked at the department of support and Akari was in design, so in many occasions they needed me as translator or interpreter in their departments to speak about innovations or marketing with other countries' developers.

Hina, by her part, was a difficult one. At first, we couldn't see each other by no means, we hated out guts from the moment we did eye contact. Don't ask why, there was no logical explanation, none of us have it, at least. Hina worked at the publishing department, so she spent a lot of time with Akari and, of course, she needed translation services in multiple occasions. It wasn't until one day we were forced to spend the day together because of a meeting where she needed me that we started to realize that the other wasn't that bad. And 'till nowadays, where we are joined at the hip.

It may not be my life dream job, but I was grateful for meeting those three girls who made my life easier at the agency.

At lunch break, I ate with Hina and Akari, apparently Mei was still working and wasn't planning on leaving her baby alone. 'I'll bring her something sweet later', I thought. Meanwhile, my friends were still at the events of our co-worker love life, discussing about it in a too much heated way to be at the Agency's canteen.

"How can't you be outraged!?" Akari questioned raising her arms to emphasise her feelings.

"Because it's not my position to do so." answered Hina in a calm way, dividing her chopsticks to start eating.

"But cheating is horrible! You don't need to be the one in the relationship to have an opinion."

"Yes, cheating is horrible, but it's none of our business."

The two kept bickering, I was too entranced with my own lunch to even listen to what they were saying, just catching something about 'cheating' and 'horrible' in the same sentence, so I just nodded before swallowing and opening my mouth to speak. "Yeah, I really don't get why you would cheat. Just break up with your partner."

"I agree." Hina said, taking a bite of her chicken.

"Same here!"

The 'ring' of my mobile phone took me away from the conversation to check my screen. I nearly squeal out of happiness when I saw Izuku's name on it, sending message after message. I unlocked the device and opened the chat immediately just to read what he had to say and answer him as soon as I could, wanting to speak with him for a little while.

From: Izuku <3

Good morning, my darling!

Heading to the agency right now.

Not mine, All Might's old one.

Just in case.

But I wished it was to mine! I want to see you so badly...

Love you so, so, so, so much.

My fool's smile brought attention to me from my friends, who were just lifting their brows in a comical expression.

"Deku?" asked Hina.

"Yep."

I ignored them for a minute to reply to my fiancé, telling him to take care and to safe the day as he always did. I was dying to talk to him, but he needed to go to work and I didn't want to distract him too much.

"I envy you so much." whined Akari, laying her head on her arms that were crossed on the table, "You two are so in love that it's almost gross."

"How much time is he staying in the U. S.?"

"A month." I replied to Hina with a sigh, locking my phone again and focusing on them.

"Uff, he's on time for the wedding, right?" Hina looked concerned, and when I nodded, she sighed in relief, "Thank God, I really want to wear the bridesmaid dress."

"That was really your fear?" I questioned flabbergasted, with my mouth opened in a fake gasp.

"Hey! Not my fault I look good on it."

The three of us laughed, using the fifteen minutes of lunch we had left to finish our food and converse a little more. Remembering Mei, I took a few mochis from the canteen and kept them to give them to her before returning to my office.

Akari and Hina were gathering their belongings to return to their department, we said our quick goodbyes for the moment and I ran to the department of support, encountering a few of Deku's sidekicks on my way there. They were as cheerful as him, always smiling and with a very likeable expression softening their features. No wonder Izuku would hire them to accompany him on his adventures as a hero.

The department of support was a mess, it always was. There were artefacts here, screws there, some unknown substance spread on a table and bags of chips everywhere. The most concerning fact was the lack of natural light, the curtains were closed and everything was lit by lamps or the torches of their phones.

I blinked twice, trying to adjust myself to the new environment I found myself in. It wasn't my first time there, but you never get used to such a mess. Once my sight returned, I looked around to find Mei; she was probably among different equipment pieces, so I had to be imaginative about where she could be.

Her desk? That was a simple option, but a probable one and... she was not there. Perfect. Where else could she be? I looked and looked, finding a worker on a chair in the corner of his desk, two... socks? Really? But no trace of my friend.

Until I heard a scream, a joyful and loud one and the word 'baby' in the sentence. I turned around as fast as I could to see her in the table where they sticked things together. She had her arms on the air, shaking them and laughing like a maniac. No one seemed shaken about of her behaviour, I wanted to think it was because they were used to it more than because they were exactly like her.

"Mei!" I called her, approaching her with the mochis in my hand.

"Oh! Hi, Y/n!" she shouted, a big smile on her face and shaking her left arm in a greeting way, "What brings you to these lars?"

"This, here," I offered her the dessert, observing how her features became brighter at the sight of something that wasn't cheap chips and I chuckled, "you should have a proper meal after this."

"Thanky thanks, Y/n! I will, I promise." she nodded with conviction, though I lifted a brow knowing her better. "When I finish this."

"You're irremediable." I groaned, rolling my eyes. "I have to go, see you later. And please, don't overwork yourself."

I walked out of the Hobbit cave and went to my office again, I still had four reports from David Shield to translate and I wasn't even finished with everything I had to do. I once proposed to Izuku that, when he retired from hero work, we could go live in the countryside and live from our savings and from what we could earn from a home-made vegetable garden. That scenery was what kept me moving and working, hoping for one day for it to be true, as my real dream was too impossible to pursue.

The hours passed slowly, dictionary here, corpus there, some articles about hero law in both English and Japanese opened on my computer and a PDF and a WORD displayed in my screen. 'Oh, would you look at that, this pen is pink' I thought when I looked at a very cute and pinky pen on my desk, calling for me to admire it. No one had to know that I wasn't working, right? 'Pinky, pinky, pink pen' was the chant ranting in my mind, shaking the cylindric device so its feathers would fly around.

"Y/n! Y/n!" my epiphany moment with my pen was over when Hina entered my office with eyes wide open, clothes dishevelled from running, something very out of character from her.

"What is it?" I put the pen on the desk again, as if nothing had happened at all.

"Don't you hear it? What is he doing here? Deku isn't here and there's no collabs going on right now."

"Uh?"

"Listen!"

We both went silent for a few seconds, waiting to hear what she was so desperate for. Nothing, nothing, and then 'Shoto!' 'Shoto, please! A picture, just a picture!' 'It's Shoto!'. I lifted my brows and my eyes went wide too, looking at the clock and realizing that there were only twenty minutes left of work. 'Thank God, no more work until tomorrow. That reminds me that I should leave this done before checking out so—'

"Y/n! Don't you hear it?" my train of thought was broken by Hina, who looked at me expectantly.

"Ah, yes, yes. He's probably here to fetch me." I mumbled, going back to the computer to finish the report I was working on before the pink incident.

"What? To fetch you? I'm lost."

It was true, my friends knew nothing about the death threat; the police and the hero agencies involved decided to keep it a secret to not alarm the population. I sighed, feeling a headache forming just from thinking about explaining everything to them. Was it worth it? No, not really.

"Yes, Izuku left some of his equipment at our apartment and Todoroki needs it, that's what Izuku told me on the message from lunch." I lied, not looking at her to prevent her from catching me.

"Oh, makes sense."

I nodded, and both of us returned to our work. The only problem was what I would tell her the next day, and the following if they didn't catch the author by then. Really, all I asked for was a calm and easy life, 'but you're marrying the number 1 hero, Y/n', I reminded myself.

The report was finished, my me from the future would be grateful to this past version of me, I was sure. I gathered my things an exited the office after switching off the lights. I said goodbye to those near me and to Yuma, who was also about to leave to change turn with his job partner.

When I got out the building, I felt overwhelmed. There were usually many people in front of the agency every day, that much was true, yes waiting for Izuku (or Deku) or for his sidekicks. But the panorama was even worse at that moment: kids, grandparents with them, young students and every single media interviewer was there trying to get a hold of Shoto, who was just calmly waiting for me to go out.

My jaw dropped; how could he be lay down with so many people around? I didn't even know how I was going to get to him without everyone noticing, I wasn't in the mood for fake scandals or to give explanations. It happened to be no problem, because Shoto's sharp senses felt me somehow and, without saying a word, he came to me and started walking in direction to my apartment.

Not even a hello, a good afternoon, nothing. He just started walking away from the building with me rushing behind him. He had really long legs and his step was larger than mine.

"Todo— Shoto! Wait!" I said, running behind him. He stopped and looked back, standing there until I was beside him. "First of all, good afternoon."

"Hum." he replied with a nod.

He started walking again, in silence, so I did the same. I was lucky I lived near the Agency, because it was really uncomfortable to have someone on edge all the time and not even doing small talk.

"There were so many people there."

"Yes, they saw me and came to interview me and take a few pictures."

"I could hear them shouting twenty minutes before my working day was over. Why were you there so soon? You didn't need to." I continued to speak, sensing that he didn't mind replying to me at all, he was just focused on walking straight, it seemed.

"I have been there the whole day, it's strange you didn't hear anything before." he said with the calmest and most unbothered tone I had ever heard for what he said. He was there all day? Really?

"The whole day!? What? Why?" I looked up at him, his right side was what I could see from my position. His white hair covered his grey eye slightly and was not answering to the calls from the people, just as during the morning.

"I offered to protect you," he shrugged his shoulders, "so I need to keep watch."

"I— Todoroki—"

"Shoto."

"Shoto," I repeated, nodding, "there was no need for that, really. I appreciate what you're doing, but I work at a hero Agency, I'm safe."

"We still don't know who the author is, for all that we know, it could be someone from your work place." his seriousness caught me off guard, I was really not expecting that reply.

"Well, I don't think so, Izuku—"

"Is not Izuku who hires, and even if he was, there are details that can scape our senses."

I swallowed, the growing tension from the sensitive topic surrounded us. I really didn't think someone from my work place would be stupid enough to send that kind of joke, but if he felt better standing outside a hero agency all day, who was I to break his dreams? Especially because I didn't want a reprimand from him again, I had enough at morning.

"I see." I said to conclude the conversation just in time, because we were in front of the hall of my building.

I assumed he would come with me until I entered the apartment, as he had come to my door at the morning. And I was correct, he followed me to the elevator, not saying a single word in the process of getting to my most than desired house. I could use a shower, and I had to cook dinner too.

"I'll come again tomorrow at 8:10 a. m." he informed me as I took the keys out and opened the door; I saw him watching inside for a moment, as if he was looking for something, probably anything that could be out of place or suspicious.

"Okay, thanks again, Shoto. See you tomorrow. Get some rest!"

He hummed and walked away with a single nod. When I closed the door, I sighed and opened my eyes wide, not really understanding his behaviour. At the end of the day, I was his friend's fiancée, he knew me a little, he could talk to me about trivial things if he was going to accompany me home.

I forgot about it when I got comfortable and started to do house chores, too preoccupied with what to have for dinner. Time passed again but, contrary to when I was in the office, it passed fast.

I sat on the couch after placing the utensils I used for dinner in the dishwasher and put TV as background noise. The difference between the student life and the working life was that in the latter you could forget about work, it would be waiting for you the next day, but not at home.

The ring of my phone startled me, throwing me out of the fanfiction I was peacefully reading. Before I could curse the caller, I saw the ID and, to my heart's content, it was Izuku. Excitedly, I pressed the green bottom and brought the mobile phone to my ear.

"Izuku!" I exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear.

"Hello, love!" the sound of his voice made me dizzy, he sounded so energetic and happy to hear me, too.

"How is your day going?" I asked, anxiously waiting for updates about his mission.

"Busy, actually. Nothing I can't handle, though." his cheerful answer made me smile wider if it was possible.

"Of course you can, sweetie, plus ultra, right?"

"Plus ultra!" he repeated, chuckling with me. "By the way, Shoto told me everything was calm during the day, I'm really happy to hear it." he sighed, the relief was palpable and I felt guilty for making him worry about something that wasn't more than a joke.

"Yes! Everything was normal, just a usual work day. But ask David to stop sending reports saying the exact same things six times in a row." I whined, gaining a loud chuckle from my fiancé.

"I will." the was a comfortable silence for a few seconds, just enjoying the other's breathing and company, until Izuku spoke again. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too." I admitted, biting my lip, "Only thirty days more to see each other."

"Yeah, in no time I'll be there again."

The conversation turned so sad I couldn't help but feel like a stupid teenager, we had not seen each other in just a day and we were already like this. It wasn't our first time being away for a long period of time, but I guess the wedding was making the both of us anxious.

"Do you know Riku is cheating on his boyfriend with Haruki?" I asked him, changing the topic in hopes of cheering him up a little; and it worked, because he let out a gasp.

"What? The one from countability?"

"Yes! That one."

"No way." And like that we spent three hours talking and talking, a coping mechanism to not think about the distance between us. For the moment it was just physical, at least.

Tag list: @shoutocakie

#shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x y/n #shouto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x you #shoto todoroki x you #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha manga spoilers #my hero academia

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

Double edged scalpel ch. 8

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

Summary: Fluff? Smut?? Stuff???

---

It was still early morning, if the bright light and faint chirping coming from out the window were anything to go by. Cassandra had been awake for a while, her body not needing nearly as much sleep as humans did.

She looked down to where Nicole's face was pressed on top of her chest, cheek slightly squished against the skin. Sleep had turned her features into soft lines, unlike her usual nonchalant façade that she wore like a crown. Though the dark circles under closed eyes were still present and, Cassandra mused, probably a permanent facial feature at this point.

The brunette couldn't help the small smile that curved her lips. She couldn't remember the last time someone had been in Nicole's position, so willing to let themselves be embraced by the shadows of the castle and wear the title of her "lover" with such grace. She wasn't even sure someone had been there before.

Though as endearing as the sight was, Cassandra was starting to get bored. Nicole's position half on top of her meant she couldn't really move without waking her up. How much sleep do humans need again? Eight hours? She was pretty sure it'd been eight hours. Besides, what harm would it do to stay and cuddle for a while, not that anyone other than the small redhead in her arms would ever be allowed to know about her apparent love for such things.

She hesitated for a second, the memory of Nicole jolting awake not too long ago making its way to the forefront of her mind. She would have to be more careful than Bela had been, opting for the gentlest way she could muster, fingers gingerly trailing down her cheek.

Cassandra frowned when the redhead flinched slightly at the touch, but soon let out a content hum upon hearing her name whispered by the brunette. Nicole didn't even bother opening her eyes. Instead, she nuzzled into Cassandra's neck and tightened her grip around her waist ever so slightly.

"Mmornin'," she said as if she actually had any intention of getting up.

"Slept well?" The brunette asked, shifting to lay on her side and starting to play with the long auburn locks sprawled on the pillows.

The reply she got was little more than a hum as her half asleep lover shifted and readjusted her position. Nicole's hand started to gingerly trace her spine upwards, then down again, on her waist and then stilled for a moment. She finally opened her eyes and looked somewhere past the brunette locks blocking her view. The arm on Cassandra's waist was removed and stretched towards the nightstand for a few seconds only to fall back on the bed accompanied by a soft groan.

"Can you pass me my phone…" Curse you, short arms.

To her dismay, Cassandra started to laugh at her struggle, earning herself a sleepy glare. She did oblige though, turning slightly and picking up the small object from the nightstand. With the phone finally in hand, Nicole unlocked it and let out another groan at the hour.

"It's so fucking early."

"It's 8 a.m." Cassandra raised an eyebrow when the redhead simply tossed the small object on the bed, probably never to be found again given it's sheer size, and turned back in her arms with an almost childish whine.

Nicole really wasn't a woman of many words in the morning.

"Why'd you wake me up so early?"

"I was bored," Cassandra answered simply.

Of course.

After another small groan, Cassandra decided to change tactics. Her hand moved from red hair down Nicole's bare back. She felt her breath hitch when she got to her hip, slender fingers going in ever so soft circles over the skin and the fabric of her underwear.

That seemed to wake the redhead up at least slightly. Her lips started to lazily move across collarbones, leaving a trail of kisses and an occasional nip. Then up her neck, hand now tangled in dark hair and giving it a light tug to tilt Cassandra's head and get better access to the spot right under her ear. She left a light bite there and the brunette let out a small moan, hand now fully gripping Nicole's hip and pulling her closer.

Cassandra's thigh, now placed between her legs just right, was hard to ignore but Nicole was a woman on a mission. She shifted her weight, now fully straddling the brunette and continued her trail of kisses along her jaw until she finally reached soft lips. Cassandra moaned in their kiss when Nicole's fingers came to rest around her neck, giving it a faint squeeze. She slipped her tongue past slightly parted lips and her other hand started to slowly trail lower.

The sense of satisfaction she got from Cassandra's impatient whine was hard to describe. Revenge for getting woken up so early.

"Just touch me already," Cassandra broke their kiss momentarily, and the redhead decided to be at least a little lenient.

She shifted her hips, giving way for her hand to wander beyond black lacy underwear. One finger started to circle her already wet entrance ever so lightly, causing Cassandra to buck her hips impatiently.

"Nico- ah!"

Her complaint was cut short by two of Nicole's fingers entering her. Cassandra squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip, stifling a moan.

The rhythm of her fingers was slow at first, enough to elicit a few more groans from the brunete, but her pace steadily increased. It wasn't long before Cassandra was grabbing at the sheets, not trusting her claws on Nicole's back anymore, and trying to clench her thighs together.

Nicole kissed along her neck as she came, the pace of her fingers slowing until Cassandra relaxed under her. Then, she pulled her hand away and sat back down on the soft sheets, taking in the view of her lover trying to catch her breath. When golden eyes finally fluttered open and looked up at her, Nicole grinned.

"Thought you didn't need to breathe."

"Do not get cocky with me." To her credit, Cassandra tried to glare, but her eyes were soft and lips turned into a small smile.

Sweet revenge. Although, Nicole mused, if Cassandra woke her up this early again she'd make her beg.

"I think we should start getting ready."

They still had a few hours to spare, but being early never hurt anyone. Cassandra seemed to have other plans though, as she placed a hand around Nicole's throat and pushed her down into the pillows.

It was Cassandra's turn to straddle her hips, her much taller frame giving the impression that she was a predator ready to sink its teeth into a meal. Paired with the devilish glint in her eyes when she leaned down to whisper against Nicole's lips, it was all too hot.

"And not return the favor? Who do you take me for hmm?"

So much for revenge.

---

Arranging tools next to the autopsy table has always been oddly relaxing. Repetition and the soft clinking of metal against metal when the scalpels were placed in their place. The leather gloves as she slid them on her hands. The apron that was waiting to be put on. All a comforting routine.

With some time to spare, she went to stand behind Cassandra, who was scribbling something in one of the many notebooks she had around. Many, Nicole had learned, as opposed to just one that magically appeared everywhere. She looked over her shoulders to see what she was writing and frowned.

She had one of the textbooks from Nicole in front of her and seemed to be correcting old notes from god knows how many years ago. Notes in german.

"Do you… speak german?" Nicole inquired. She wasn't necessarily surprised but it was weird it had never come up.

The brunette only let out an mhm and finished scratching out something, replacing it with the information from the book. In english. "And french, italian, hungarian, and some russian. My russian's really rusty though, been a long time since it was in use around here."

Okay. Impressive. Nicole supposed that being immortal does come with benefits such as infinite time to learn different languages. Cassandra let out a chuckle at her surprised look.

Then she checked the hour and snapped the notebook shut. Showtime.

Clank

They both froze.

Their eyes darted to the door, left slightly ajar.

Clank

"You… heard that right?" Nicole's question was so low, it would've probably gone unheard if not for sensitive vampiric ears.

"Loud and clear. Stay here."

And she should have really. Cassandra was strong and could take care of herself. Whatever was making noise was probably a bored prisoner wanting to quicken their demise.

But the sinking feeling in her gut gave her no peace. Whether it was worry for Cassandra, the fear that crept up her spine at being left alone, or a mix of both was anyone's guess.

She grabbed one of the scalpels from the tray.

It gave her a false sense of security as she slipped through the door and down the dark corridor connecting the study to the cells.

One of the perks of being small? You can hide almost anywhere. And this was no exception. The shadows hid her well while she stepped for the first time past old cells. Some run down, some full of devices not unlike the ones in the room she had just exited.

She could hear a growl up ahead and came to the realization that it belonged to Cassandra. She was frustrated at something and Nicole wondered if being there was really a good idea. Most likely not. But she came all the way there, might as well see what got the brunette so upset.

She started walking towards the sound of heels against stone and was about to call out Cassandra's name when a shadow caught her eye. She froze.

From where she was, still enveloped by darkness, she saw something peeking around a corner at her lover, but it's back almost completely turned to her. Someone, she realized as she strained her eyes to take in more details. A man, no taller than Cassandra, ragged clothing and something shiny in hand.

Panic took over when she realized that shine came from the reflective barrel of a gun, half in position and ready to shoot. Shoot at Cassandra.

She sprung forward, stealth be damned with how loud her boots sounded against the stone underfoot. The sound alerted Cassandra, who turned in her direction wide eyed. It also alerted the man, who spinned on his heels and let out a choked scream that seemed to ring in her ears.

The sound died in his throat when the scalpel was plunged in his neck, through the trachea and whatever other veins and arteries the blade found in its path. He leaned back against the wall, disgusting gurgling sounds making their way past bloody lips.

"Nicole!" Cassandra was by her side in the span of a second. She wanted to turn to her but instead she stumbled forward, almost crashing into her arms.

Something was wrong.

Adrenaline was finally starting to leave her body and instead searing pain was making its way in her muscles. Her head was starting to spin but she managed to look down only to see a crimson stain on her abdomen. An ugly contrast with her white uniform, really.

Her ears were ringing, but she faintly registered Cassandra let a long string of curses spill past her lips.

Then she was picked up, the wound in her abdomen sending jolts of pain with every hasty movement. She couldn’t help crying out when Cassandra presumably reached the dungeon steps and started ascending.

Staying awake was becoming an increasingly hard task. No matter how much she tried to keep her eyes open, it resulted fruitless as black splotches were starting to obscure her vision.

She finally let her lids shut, her head slumping against Cassandra's shoulder as nothingness started to envelop her foggy mind.

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #unhinged maiden™ my beloved #fanfic #double edged scalpel

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whumpmatsus · 2 years

Note

1C for Totty? Baby brother doesn't get babied enough!!

Ultimate Whump Writing Meme! / ACCEPTING!

1. Acute infectious diseases

C: Tonsillitis

funny story, I actually had something half-started with this concept from a while ago, before I even made that whump meme... and I've been itching to finish it lately, so I slapped some paint on it to make it fit the request, wrote the rest of it up, and WHAM-BAM THANK YOU MA'AM this one was done fast!!

Totty really doesn't get babied enough, he needs to be babied more! he's the youngest, after all <3

also inspiring Oso and Kara's suggestion of taking a doll in with him... when I had my gallbladder out in high school, I brought my Gaara plushie with me lol. they let me take him in and have him with me on the bed and he was still right there when I woke up. so I dunno if any hospital would do that, but the one I went to let me take my lil plushie dude into the operating room with me! (to be fair, they probably removed him after I went under anesthesia and put him back once they were done operating, but XD)

Sometimes Totty leaves for work early in the morning, when the manager at Sutabaa schedules him for an opening shift.

That means he has to be at work by 6 A.M., forcing him to get up around 5 to ensure he grabs something to eat and cleans up and in general prepares for the day. His alarm typically wakes his brothers up a little, not all the way but enough that he finds himself quietly shushing them and telling them to go back to sleep, he’s just leaving for work and he’ll be back in the afternoon.

Today Osomatsu doesn’t remember Totty even doing that much, and today, the absence of his youngest brother next to him makes it difficult to fall back asleep. So he gets up at the ungodly hour of 7 A.M., bleary-eyed and unable to rest further, to go downstairs to the living room. At least that way he won’t disturb any of the others, and he can always nap later once he’s sufficiently tired again.

For now he busies himself with grabbing some cookies and a magazine and settling in at the table. He can entertain himself until the rest of his brothers get up, can’t he? It’s still a bit dark out, and Dad’s gone to work. Mom isn’t up yet, though… he doesn’t remember being awake all by himself in the house since he was a little kid.

… Even then, he wasn’t usually all by himself. There was almost always someone else with him. He almost wishes he woke up alongside Totty and his youngest brother didn’t have to go to work so they could enjoy the morning peace together.

Still, it’s quiet and that never lasts in this house, so he starts reading. This is a manga he’s already read before, so he knows what’s happening, and it’s predictable; that’s not a bad thing, though. It means he doesn’t need to put in a lot of brainpower to read it.

He’s nearly done with his plate of cookies and almost halfway through the manga when the front door suddenly opens.

Totty seems just as surprised to see his big brother as Osomatsu is to see his little brother. A quick glance toward the clock reveals that it’s only just after 7:30, so Totty shouldn’t be home yet.

That said… a look at Totty tells him a lot more than the time. The youngest looks like shit. His cheeks and nose are red, the kind of pinkish red that’s basically a signal to everyone else that someone isn’t doing so well. There are lines under his eyes, and there’s a paper face mask in his hand.

All in all, Osomatsu can kind of guess what’s going on, and he feels a little guilty for not noticing something was wrong. “Hey, Totty… I thought you worked till noon today?”

“Ugh…” Totty sniffles thickly, walking over to where Osomatsu is sitting. Once there, he just sort of slumps himself down on the floor. His voice is congested and hoarse, sounding like it hurts to speak. “They sent me home. I’m sick. Sacchi told me I should go to the doctor since this is like the sixth time I’ve had a sore throat in the last couple years… but…” His fist tightens around the mask as if it’s his only lifeline right now. “… I don’t wanna go alone. I hate the doctor.”

Osomatsu shuffles closer and carefully runs a hand through Totty’s hair. “Well, fuck, I could take you.”

Totty turns his eyes up a bit. Though they’ve got their usual sparkle, there’s a marked exhaustion shining in them as well. “R-really?”

“Yeah, really, you’re my baby brother! Of course I’ll take you. I don’t have anything exciting going on today, anyway.” His hand continues to make long, slow strokes through Totty’s locks. “You’re not feeling good, huh? Does your throat hurt?”

Totty laughs softly, but it lacks any real mirth. “Gee, how’d you know?” He closes his eyes, pressing his head in against his older brother’s hand. “Mmm… yeah, it’s pretty bad. If I try to talk any louder than this, I start coughing and it feels like a bee sting in my throat. And I think have a fever… I’m all achy… God, I just wanna go to bed…”

Osomatsu gives a few more pets to his baby brother’s head, then tries to pull him up into a more… vertical position. “Here, let’s get you bundled up and we’ll head over to the doctor’s office. Think you can handle a train ride?”

“Mhm… as long as you’re there.” For the most part, he lets Osomatsu move him around, feeling too tired to move himself. “Can I sleep on the way?”

“Yeah, sure! We’ll sit together and you can lean your head on my shoulder.” This time Osomatsu is determined not to miss anything. He wasn’t paying attention this morning, but that won’t happen again. He doesn’t want Totty having to be in pain speaking for himself, so he needs to make sure to note down everything that’s going on. He reaches over to touch his fingers against Totty’s neck, frowning. “Hey, this looks kinda swollen, Totty, does it―”

The instant reaction is a yelp, or as much of one as the youngest can manage. There are tears in poor Totty’s eyes immediately, and as much as he wants to move away, his current malaise prevents him from doing so. “O-ow, Osomatsu-nii-chan!!”

Osomatsu winces in sympathy. “Ah, shit, I’m sorry. Well, there’s my answer… that hurts, huh?”

“Y… yeah… k-kinda like you just poked a sunburn…”

“Yikes, fuck. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. C’mon, let’s get this taken care of.” He gently tugs Totty to his feet, and somehow manages to get him into his coat with a scarf wrapped around his neck. Loosely, just to make sure it doesn’t get bumped again. “Hey, this could be your new look.”

Totty lets out a raspy giggle. “I dunno… sick chic? I don’t think it’ll catch on. I’m sure I’m making it work, though.”

Osomatsu shakes his head. “Pretty sure you can make anything work, you priss. Let me grab my wallet and leave a note for the others, okay? Just in case they wake up while we’re gone, I don’t want anybody to worry.”

“Okay… I’ll just lean on the wall for a sec and try not to fall asleep.”

He grins before giving a kiss to Totty’s cheek and hurrying upstairs. It’s not a great idea to leave the house without some money, and he doesn’t want Mom or their brothers to panic if they wake up to find the youngest and the eldest nowhere to be seen.

He also doesn’t want to disturb them, though, so he tiptoes into their bedroom to get his wallet from the table, and scrawls a quick note before heading back downstairs.

Mom + little bros―

Totty got sent home because he’s sick. Another sore throat. I’m taking him to the doctor, so don’t worry if we’re not back when you guys get up. See you soon!

Love, Osomatsu

“Th-this isn’t fair, nii-chan! How come I have to do this? Why couldn’t they just give me a pill??”

“I dunno, but this is what they recommended, Totty… like you said yourself, this is, what, the sixth sore throat you’ve had in two years? And you admitted to the doctor that it hurts to swallow and you’re having trouble breathing this time.”

“Y-yeah, well… I thought she’d just say I should use my inhaler and take some painkillers… maybe give me a prescription for an antibiotic.”

“She might still have to do that; she put that swabby thing in your throat and said she’ll call with the results tomorrow.”

“And that thing sucked! It made me cough so hard my eyes watered…”

“Yeah, I remember, I was there. I almost thought you were gonna throw up. I hate to say it, little bro, but you’re in rough shape here.”

“I know… but… but surgery?!”

“Doesn’t your throat still hurt?” Osomatsu finally sighs as he helps Totty up the stairs now that they’re back home. “You should rest your voice so this shit doesn’t get worse. The doc said your throat was really red and irritated. Do you think bitching your little heart out is gonna make it feel any better?”

As usual, everyone is huddled up in the spare room, trying to get warm under the kotatsu, when the two of them open the door. “Hey, there you guys are!” Choromatsu pipes up from his spot, where he’s reading a book. “We got your note, but it’s almost one in the afternoon now… did you guys spend like five hours at the urgent care center??”

“Not exactly,” Osomatsu replies as he guides Totty over to the couch and carefully helps him settle in. “We spent like an hour at urgent care, then they sent us to the hospital to talk to a surgeon.”

“A SURGEON?!” Choromatsu’s book is immediately abandoned in favor of zooming over to grab at Osomatsu’s collar. “What do you mean, a surgeon?! How sick is he?!”

Karamatsu has drifted over toward the sofa and set a hand on Totty’s forehead as if to confirm that, yes, things are really that bad. “Well, our dear youngest has a fever, at any rate.”

“Ow! Get off me, Fappyski!” Osomatsu smacks the third eldest’s hands away and straightens his shirt out. “Fuck, he’s not dying or anything.”

“If only,” Totty moans, nuzzling into Karamatsu’s embrace. “I’ve got… um… a-ah, shit. Do you have the discharge paper, Osomatsu-nii-chan?”

“Yeah, it’s in my pocket.” He takes it out and unfolds it, handing it over to Choromatsu. He memorized most of it already anyway, having pored over it on the train ride home. “They’re still doing that test to determine if they need to put him on antibiotics, but long story short, seeing as this is over five times he’s had a sore throat in the last two years, he needs to have his tonsils out.”

Thankfully, Choromatsu’s initial panic flattens into anxiety as he takes the paper to read. “A-ah, okay… well… that’s not so bad… I-I mean, it’s a minor surgery.”

Totty starts to wail and presses himself into Karamatsu’s chest. Even doing that, his voice is barely a whisper. “Noooo, they’re gonna cut me open and take out part of my insides! Don’t let them do it, Karamatsu-nii-chan! Don’t let them!”

“I won’t, sweet little Totty! I won’t let them!” To his credit, Karamatsu commits to it, snuggling the baby of the family even closer like he can protect Totty from the surgery. It looks to be mostly for comedic effect to diffuse tension for everyone else… though nobody can be sure with Karamatsu.

“You have to do it, you dumbass,” Ichimatsu snorts, lying down with his legs still under the kotatsu. “That shit’s infected, so you need it cut out. If you don’t get it taken care of, you’re just gonna keep getting sore throats.”

Osomatsu settles down on the couch next to Karamatsu and Totty, patting the youngest on the head. “Not even just that. He told the doctor he was having trouble breathing and swallowing this time, and that when he does swallow, it hurts like a motherfucker. You’re not getting out of this, Totty.”

Totty briefly peeks out of his Kara-cocoon. “You’re all being mean. Peer pressure. I’m gonna tell Mom.”

Jyushimatsu laughs and launches himself over to the couch. He hits the bottom of it with his head, but it doesn’t appear to have shaken him much, because he’s sitting with his legs crossed and his back pin-straight in a second. “Whaddaya think Mom’s gonna do, Totty?? You’re her baby! If you tell her you don’t wanna get the surgery, she’ll probably grab a steak knife and do it herself!”

“… Oh, my God.” Totty whimpers. “Oh, my God, you’re right.” Tears well up in his eyes, and this time they’re genuine as he leans back in against Karamatsu. “B-but I don’t want surgery! I-I’m scared… they’re not gonna let anybody else into the room… they’re gonna stick some sleepy liquid into my hand and… and everything’s gonna get dark… and I won’t have you guys or Mom or Dad there…”

The three eldest share a concerned look between them, and Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu do the same with each other. After a moment of Totty crying, Osomatsu scoots over to make room for Choromatsu to sit down.

“I-it’s okay, Totty. Um…” He slides his hand up past Karamatsu’s arm so he can rub his baby brother’s back. “Hey, hey, it’s… it’s okay that you’re scared, you know? You remember when I had to have surgery to take my appendix out? You remember how freaked out I was when you guys showed up, and how Osomatsu had to talk for me because I was crying so hard? That’s normal.”

Osomatsu somehow manages to put his arm around all three of them. “And he still did it anyway! He was really brave, ‘cause he knew it needed to be done. And you remember how it was before? Even when they take you to surgery, we get to hug you and kiss you and slobber all over you before you go in. I bet you could even take a stuffed animal or something in with you if that’d make you feel better.”

“I wish I could t-take one of you guys,” Totty mumbles. “Just shrink you down and bring you with me.”

Karamatsu hums. “When did they schedule the surgery? I could sew up a doll that looks like one of us!”

Choromatsu glances down at the paper again. “Ah, looks like two weeks. At least you have a lot of time to prepare, Totty! You can cry a lot and be super anxious in the next couple days, then you’ll have got it all out by the time you actually go to get it done.”

“There’s really no way around it, Totty.” Ichimatsu stretches his arms so he can flick Totty’s ankle. “You don’t wanna keep getting sick, right? A lot of throat infections can probably seriously fuck up your throat, and you’ve been getting a lot. Aren’t you tired of that?”

Jyushimatsu waves his arms in the air. “Plus, we’ll get to take you home afterwards, and you’ll get lots of ice pops and ice cream and we’ll get to baby you!!”

“Yeahhhh,” Osomatsu grins. “We know you like that even though you say you don’t. Now we’ll have the perfect excuse.”

“Exactly,” Choromatsu adds in, leaning to kiss Totty’s head. “You can do it, Totty. Even if we can’t be in the room with you while it happens, we’ll be right there in the hospital waiting for you. This really is the best thing for your health. Like Ichimatsu said, repeated sore throats like this could really hurt your voice.”

“Not to mention,” Karamatsu muses, “you could post about this on your blog. I can see it now… you’ll get so many comments… so much sympathy…”

“So many people wanting to nurse you back to health and kiss your stupid face!!” is Osomatsu’s contribution.

… Well. When they all put it like that, Totty supposes that there’s no getting out of this. After all, he’s sick (pun not intended) of constantly getting sore throats in the past couple years, and if this is the only way to make it stop, he can’t really act like a coward. He already got the surgery scheduled.

Plus if his brothers are all pushing at him like this, it’s almost definitely because they think it’s the right call. Even though it’s fucking surgery.

“You guys… promise you’ll be there when I wake up?” he rasps, leaning into Karamatsu’s shoulder. “That’s… that’s all I really care about.”

Of course, he didn’t really need to worry. As soon as he says that, he’s sort of engulfed in a hug of big brothers, with everyone surrounding him and stroking his hair and kissing his face.

Yeah. They’ll all be there.

#Osomatsu san #whump #Benimatsu #Totty #Osomatsu #Allmatsu #illness #tonsillitis #caretaking #WHAT GOOD BOYS THEY'RE SO SILLY #KARA SAYING HE WON'T LET THEM EVEN THO HE KNOWS IT NEEDS DONE IS KILLING ME #Totty being babied is fucking EVERYTHING ok

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kookiesjoonies · 4 years

Text

where you belong | myg.

main pairing: idol!yoongi x wife!reader

fic type: one shot

word count: 3.3k

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: the beginnings of oral sex/shower sex, mentions of spitting, nipple play

summary: five vignettes of what being married to yoongi for over three years looks like.

a/n: me: i have the bladder of a squirrel, i’m always getting up to pee. lindy: write a fic like that. and so, i did. enjoy! let me know which vignette was your favorite! also i’ve tried to upload this fic eight million times but it never tags, so. i’m trying again and leaving it up whether it tags or not LOL.

April 12th, 2020. 3:04am.

It seemed like more often than not, you were waking up in the middle of the night with the desperate need to pee. You’d always had the bladder the size of a squirrel, making it difficult for you to get a full night of rest. Every two or four hours, you were awake and trudging your way to the bathroom.

You’d been laying in bed tossing and turning for an hour, trying to get comfortable but finding it more difficult than usual. Lying on your back wasn’t working, so you’d decided to try rolling over and onto your stomach. Which would have worked, except for the fact that you were now pressing on your bladder. With a heavy sigh and a groan, you shoved the covers off of your body and stood up from the bed.

Yoongi, your husband of nearly four years, had been trying his hardest to sleep all night long. But every time you moved or got up, you woke him up too. It was his turn to groan, a loud and frustrated sound that came up from his throat as he dragged the palms of his hands over his face.

“Y/n, please, for the love of God and my sanity, don’t get out of bed again.”

You considered hitting him over the head with a pillow, because did he really think you’d be constantly getting up like this if you could help it?

Your arms crossed over your chest as you peered down at the black haired man below you, “If I didn’t have to get up I wouldn’t, Yoongi.”

“Just squeeze the pee out, Christ.” He rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes.

He didn’t mean to sound hateful, but he was always such a grump when he was woken up. And you couldn’t really blame him, because you were the same exact way.

Still, it was the middle of the night, and you’d slept poorly so far. His attitude wasn’t helping, and you wanted nothing more than to be away from him.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, albeit dramatically, and made your way out of your master bedroom and down the stairs.

You’d decided to use the powder room off the living room, and sleep on the couch afterwards. If Yoongi wanted peace that badly, you’d give it to him.

Yoongi hadn’t even realized he’d dozed off again. And when he woke up, feeling slightly more rested than usual, he immediately grew suspicious. His eyes fell on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand that read 7:14 a.m.

He sighed, relieved. It was his day off, and he was glad he could stay at home and sleep in. And spend the morning with you wrapped up in his arms. He rolled over to pull your body closer to his, cocking an eyebrow when he realized your side of the bed was empty and he’d just been greeted with cold sheets.

Maybe you’d gotten up to go to the bathroom, he thought. He’d given you a few moments to return, and when you didn’t, he huffed and tossed the blankets covering the lower half of his body aside.

He decided to go searching for you, starting in your en-suite bathroom. His eyes scanned the decently sized room, frowning when there was no sign of you. It was still too early for you to willingly be awake, and he knew that, so his next plan of action was to search the kitchen. You were terrible for drinking sodas all throughout the night, which might’ve explained why you were always making trips to the bathroom.

Yoongi didn’t even make it into the kitchen before he saw you sleeping peacefully on the couch, curled up into a fetal position and emitting tiny snores every few seconds.

He cracked a smile at the sight, but then went to roll his eyes at you.

“Baby,” he whispered, crouching down beside of you to gently shake you awake, “come on, come back to bed.”

The sound of your husband’s sleepy voice pulled you out of your state of unconsciousness, “What time is it?”

“A little past seven.” His hand reached forward to lightly stroke at your frizzed up hair, and you couldn’t help but to lean into his sweet touch.

“But you said you didn’t want me up there.”

“Uhm, no I did not.” Yoongi was quick to be defensive, “I said for you not to get out of bed again, were my exact words. I didn’t mean for you to come down here to sleep.”

“Well, as long as I’m here, you won’t have to worry about it. Just go back to sleep.” Even in your half asleep state, you couldn’t help but to argue.

If he didn’t love you so much, he probably would’ve let you have your way. Let you sulk and pout on the couch while he slept soundly upstairs, but he couldn’t do that.

“Dude, you’re so dramatic.” He sighed, scooping your limp body up and into his arms.

You shrieked as he did so, your eyes springing open immediately.

“Yoongs! What are you doing?”

“Taking your ass back to bed where you belong.” He began his ascend with you up the staircase, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Can you take me to the bathroom first? I have to pee.”

“Of course you do.”

April 18th, 2020. 2:53pm.

Lazy Saturdays with Yoongi were few and far between, but when they did happen, they were your favorite.

There were plenty of chores that needed to be done, plenty of projects outside that needed to be started, and yet the two of you had been planted on the sofa since you’d woken up.

You were lying down with your legs in Yoongi’s lap, watching the cooking channel. And he had his feet propped up on the glass coffee table thumbing through a nonfiction novel. The sunshine poured through the narrow window panes, the scent of the coffee you’d brewed earlier still lingering. Holly was lounging on his bed beside of the fireplace on his back, snoozing with his paws in the air.

“He looks comfortable.” You nodded your head in Holly’s direction, causing Yoongi to look up from his book.

He chuckled lowly, “He’s got it made. He lives in this big house with no responsibilities. All he does is eat and sleep.”

“I mean,” you started, “that’s all I do too, really.”

Yoongi nodded, tapping his fingertips against your kneecap.

“And as long as I can help it, that’s all you’ll have to do. You took care of me for so long, it’s my turn.”

“You spoil me, Min Yoongi.” You couldn’t stop the smile that cracked its way onto your face.

At the minute, you were enrolled in university and only had another year or so before you’d be graduating. You had every intention of working once you were out of school, but you couldn’t lie, it was nice to know that if you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to. You’d been with Yoongi for so long— since before his debut with BTS.

He’d always promised you that one day he’d be able to provide for you fully, and now, he was doing that tenfold. The two of you were well off now, but in the end, that didn’t really matter. He could be a billionaire, or have one penny to call his own, and you’d still love him all the same.

“Yes, I do spoil you. And I intend to keep doing so, Min Y/n.” He’d abandoned his book, letting it lie on the armrest beside of him.

He lifted one of your legs, pressing tiny pecks against the skin of your calf muscle. You giggled at the tickling feeling, your laughter coming to a quick halt as insecurity suddenly took over. Jerking your leg from his grasp, Yoongi cocked a dark brow at the action.

“I haven’t shaved in like, a month, Yoongs.”

“Are you kidding me?” his eyes rolled and he reached for your leg again, “you know I don’t care about that shit.”

“Yeah, I know. But I do.” You frowned.

“Too bad.” He changed his position so that he was lying in between your legs now, his lips trailing from your knee to the top of your thigh.

“What are you doing?” You bit down on your lower lip to take it in between your teeth, your fingers instinctively curling into your husband’s dark strands of hair.

“Showing you how much I don’t give a shit about some damn leg hair.”

He sucked a purple bruise into your skin, and you couldn’t fight back the moan that left your lips.

Yoongi was quick to push your shorts to the side, his tongue dragging along the folds of your cunt over your cotton panties. The feeling of his teasing had you whimpering, and you were begging for him to give you more— to which he happily complied.

April 30th, 2020. 10:19am.

In theory, Yoongi having a week off from work should be amazing. Your time spent together should be filled with romance, sex, home cooked meals and stereotypical couple shit. Most importantly, the two of you should be over the moon that you were getting such quality time together. And you were... mostly.

But he’d been home for five days already, and you were silently wishing he’d visit the studio at least once— and he was silently wishing you’d take a night to go out with friends. You weren’t used to being in each other’s company for long, thanks to what your husband did for a living, so whenever he had more than a few days home at a time it was always an adjustment.

Yoongi had only been awake for a total of five minutes and you’d already found a way to annoy him, without him having to even lay eyes on you.

He was at the sink, about to brush his teeth when he noticed the cap sitting beside of the toothpaste. He was sure that one day, he would roll his eyes at you so hard that they’d get stuck in the back of his head.

With a huff, he deposited a decent amount of the toothpaste onto his toothbrush and ran water over it before putting it into his mouth. You walked into the bathroom then, your eyes half open as you made your way over to the toilet to pee. Ah, romance at its finest.

“Dude,” Yoongi said, spitting into the sink after he was finished brushing, “why don’t you put the cap back onto the tube of toothpaste?”

You scowled, thinking that he should know damn well you didn’t like to be spoken to before you’d had your caffeine.

“I’ll do that when you start rinsing the sink out and quit leaving your nasty spit in it!”

“My nasty spit?” he scoffed, “I’m sorry who was the one begging me to, and I quote, spit in your mouth, two days ago?”

“Bite me, Min Yoongi.”

You flushed the toilet and bumped his hip with your own to push him out of the way, rubbing soap onto your hands and washing them. It was going to be a long day.

By noon, you were ready to fully divorce him and kick him out of the house.

“Yoongi!” You yelled, standing by the laundry basket in your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest.

His feet carried him swiftly up the stairs as he feared something was wrong, stopping abruptly in his tracks when he saw the way you were staring daggers through him.

“Jesus,” he sighed, “what did I do now?”

You pointed harshly at the pile of dirty clothes next to the hamper, causing the taller man to internally groan at the lecture he knew was coming.

“Two more inches and the clothes would be in the basket. What is so hard about that? Do you live to piss me off? Is that what it is?” You scolded, barely taking a breath between your sentences.

“Mhm,” he nodded, “my only goal in life.”

You were fuming. How could he be such an ass? Throwing your hands up, you moved past him and out of the bedroom.

“Pick them up, or we’re getting a divorce.”

He chuckled, “Whatever you say.”

“Ever heard the term ‘happy wife, happy life?’”

He took short strides forward over to the clothes he’d previously discarded and picked them up, “Nope.”

“Well then,” you watched as he tossed the clothes into their rightful place of the laundry hamper, “I suggest you get familiar with it.”

By the time dinner was over, you’d made promises to take him to divorce court the very next day. He’d placed a single dirty spoon into a sink empty of dishes, and you suddenly understood why so many wives offed their husbands.

May 9th, 2020. 11:05am.

You were late— so fucking late, and you prayed that your mother wouldn’t completely disown you. The two of you’d made plans to meet up for breakfast at 10:30, but you’d just now gotten into the shower. She would never let you live this down. You were always late for everything though, so really, what did she expect?

Washing your hair would’ve taken up too much time, so you’d opted for a quick, ten minute shower and decided that a messy bun would do for the day. You were in the middle of washing your face when you heard the glass door of the shower rattle, alerting you to your husbands newfound presence.

“Morning.” His arms wrapped tightly around your waist from behind, and he began to press light kisses to the side of your neck.

You smiled at the feeling, tilting your head to the side to give him a bit more access.

“Good morning.” You rinsed off your face wash, carefully avoiding your hair and trying your hardest not to get it wet.

Yoongi’s hands found your hips as he pressed his half hardened length against your ass, causing you to moan at the feeling.

“Yoongs, I have to go soon. No funny business. I’m already late.” You tried to protest, but the feeling of his hand traveling down to spread your legs made you whine.

“So? You’re always late. Let me give you a good reason to be, at least.”

His teeth nibbled on your earlobe, all the while his pointer and middle finger had begun to circle over your clit.

Your head dropped back into the crook of his neck at the feeling, and you groaned.

“Fine, fine. But no foreplay, as much as it pains me to say that. Make me cum, then I gotta go.”

“Damn,” he laughed, “you really know how to seduce a guy, you know that?”

“Shut up.” You couldn’t help but to giggle in response, your lips finding his for just a quick second before he had you bent over in front of him.

“If your mom asks, just tell her we were practicing to give her grandchildren.”

The loud smack of his hand coming down against the bare skin of your ass echoed in the room, and you groaned— both because of the stinging sensation his hand caused, and because of his words. Leave it to your husband to say stupid shit like that before he was about to rail you.

Your breakfast date with your mom turned into brunch, and a very uncomfortable one at that. Yoongi had been ruthless with spanking you, and you were now sporting sore spots and welts that made it difficult to sit.

Even though your mom kept asking why you couldn’t seem to sit still and was constantly scolding you for being late, you decided that it was so fucking worth it.

May 20th, 2020. 8:45pm.

It wasn’t even nine and you and Yoongi were already in bed. He was scrolling on his phone beside of you, and you were watching makeup tutorials on the television hung in front of your bed.

You yawned, shifting your attention to your husband and knocking his phone out of his hand, just for the hell of it.

“What the fuck was that for?!” He sounded surprised, and you couldn’t help but to laugh.

“I dunno.” You shrugged, gently kicking his leg with your foot.

“Oh, so that’s the game we’re playing now?” He stared over at you, his lips curving into a wry smirk.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby doll.”

He was on top of you in an instant, straddling your legs as he tickled you. You erupted into an immediate series of giggles, your body squirming underneath him.

“Yoongi!” You squealed, attempting to push his hands away, but it was no use— he had you pinned and completely at his mercy.

“Bet you regret annoying me now, huh?” He asked, his own laughter bellowing out.

“Yes! Yes! Okay, okay! You can stop!” You were nearly out of breath from how hard you were laughing, and Yoongi was sure you’d never looked more stunning.

Your hair was wet from the shower you’d just taken, no makeup on, and you were wearing that damn tattered, worn out T-shirt that you loved so much. You were the very definition of beauty to him, the sight of your toothy smile and sound of your loud laughter only making that fact more and more evident to him.

His tickle assault on your body ceased, and the two of you attempted to catch your breath.

“I’m in love with you, you know that?” Yoongi’s position had changed, and he was now hovering over you and pressing his lips to your jawline.

“I know. And I love you.” You reveled in the feeling, enjoying the familiar comforting weight of his body on top of yours.

“Let me show you how much.”

Before you could protest (not that you actually would), he was making his way down south. He’d bunched your shirt up, letting it rest just above your breasts. He was practically salivating at the sight of your bare chest. You’d been married for so long, and he’d seen you naked more times than he could count, and the sight of your body still amazed him every time.

He pulled a hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently. Your fingers carded into his hair, your back arching up and off of the mattress as you pressed into him.

“Yoongs,” you sighed, marveling in the feeling of him palming your other tit with his hand.

He always took his time when it came to your chest, and he always made sure they were bruised and reddened by the time he was done with them. And you had zero complaints with that fact.

After he’d abused your pebbled buds to his satisfaction, he moved to leave a line of wet kisses down your stomach.

When his lips came into contact with cotton fabric just above your belly button, he pulled back with a confused expression adorning his features.

“Granny panties? Really?” He chuckled, pulling at the hem of them and letting it snap against your skin.

You yelped, batting his hand away.

“Shut up, they’re comfortable.”

“I never thought granny panties could look so sexy.” He wiggled his brows, and you rolled your eyes.

“Gotta say, though,” he said, pulling them down your legs, “I think they’d look sexier on the floor.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You laughed, kicking your underwear off of your feet.

“Maybe,” he grinned, his lips quickly finding their way to the insides of your thighs, “but you love me.”

“More than you could ever know, Yoongs,” you smiled, suddenly very aware that the most amazing man in the world was yours, and yours alone, “‘more than you could ever know.”

*do NOT reupload/repost on any site, translate without my permission, or claim as your own.

#bts #bts smut #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi imagine #bts imagine #bts fluff #yoongi fluff #seokjin #namjoon #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook

1K notes · View notes

hoboal87 · 3 years

Text

Baby Mine

Title: Baby Mine

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Jody, Alex, Claire, Bobby

Word Count: 1600+

Summary: You and Sam prepare for the birth of your son.

Warnings: post 15 x 20, fluff, implied dom/sub relationship, non-graphic descriptions of labor, breastfeeding.

A/N: This is my super late entry into @superbadassnatural‘s #333 badass followers challenge. My prompts are “I didn’t expect it to be this big,” and “this is disgusting”

A/N 2: This is set in the same universe as “The Tie,” and “Carry On,” but it can be read as a stand-alone.

No Beta, all mistakes are mine. I have tense issues, I know.

My Full Masterlist

Miracle’s head lies on your lap as you do your best to remain calm. You can feel the wetness of her nose against the small sliver of your exposed belly. It was unseasonably warm for South Dakota in the spring, and if you could’ve you would’ve been walking around naked all the time. Growing a Winchester has not been an easy task, and your doctor informed you at your last check up the baby will be at least 9 lbs.

Nine. Freaking. Pounds. You’re going to be pushing a nine pound baby out of your body, and Sam was already talking about having another one in a few years! You can’t even imagine wanting to go through all this again. Even though Jody and the mothers you’ve befriended over the last few months have assured you, that you’ll forget about all the bad, all the sickness, all the discomfort you’ve been feeling the second the baby’s born.

A clattering from your bedroom pulls you out of your head, giving you a moment of reprise. Sam’s muffled swears have you giggling as he frantically tries to pack your hospital bag. Jody had advised you to pack one over a month ago, but you and Sam had been so focused on making sure the nursery was ready, as well as warding your home, that you hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

Another grunt comes from the hall as Sam seemingly runs into your bathroom, and then into the nursery, where the baby's coming home outfit was luckily laid out on the changing table. By the time Sam makes it back into the living room, he’s nearly out of breath, eyes falling on you as your face scrunches in pain.

You’ve been in the early stages since last night, but you’d woken up to much more intense contractions a few hours ago. Sam takes your hand in his as you wince as a contraction rolls through you. He eyes the watch on his wrist, Dean’s watch, keeping track of the duration and time between each wave of pain.

“Y/N,” Sam whispers, calming himself when your eyes connect to his. “I think it’s time.”

“Alex said 5 minutes,” you huff, rubbing your swollen belly and giving him a pained smile. Having a nurse in the family was the best thing you could ever ask for. Alex, on the other hand, probably wishes she wasn’t, especially after Sam started calling her in the middle of the night with the most ridiculous questions that you’d ever heard of. You’d finally gotten him to stop, apologizing to Alex for another 3 a.m. frantic phone call about the possibility of the baby being born extra appendages.

Once Sam had adjusted to the news of your pregnancy, he dove deep into research, not that you were expecting anything else from him. Parenting magazines cover your coffee table, multiple books on pregnancy and birth are stacked on his bedside table, and he’d watched every youtube video relating to pregnancy and taking care of a newborn.

“I know, but baby we’re getting there. You’ve gone from 10 minutes to 7 in the last hour. The parenting book said–” You roll your eyes, your inner brat coming to the surface after months of being stifled. “Babygirl,” Sam tone changes, and you instantly relax at the phrase you haven’t heard in nearly a year. “Don’t think I haven’t been keeping track of all the punishments you’ll be getting as soon as you can handle it.”

It's just the distraction you need, and your eyes divert to the car seat against the wall.

Sam had tried and failed twice already on installing the carrier in the back seat of the Impala, spewing profanity as you watched, chuckling from the front porch. After nearly an hour, Sam gave up on the car seat, and joined you on the porch, his hand splaying softly over stomach. He leaned over, and placed a sweaty kiss on your lips, it was moments like those that Jody told you to cherish; and both you and Sam made it a point to do so.

“Then you better figure out how to properly install that in the back seat,” you sass.

An annoyed laugh leaves Sam as he glares at the yet-to-be defeated carrier, hesitating now to leave your side.

“It can wait.”

“It really can’t, babe,” you chuckle softly.

It’s less than an hour later that you and Sam pull up to Sioux Falls General Hospital. He’s holding you steady as you waddle towards the check-in desk. An orderly appears with a wheelchair, and wheels you away as Sam hands over all of your pre-registered paperwork. Alex is by your side before you realize it, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. She helps you dress into a hospital gown, and Sam rejoins you just as you take a seat on the bed.

Sam watches helplessly as your face contorts as another contraction rolls through your body. You squeeze his hand tightly, sure that you’re leaving crescent-shaped marks on him. This one is different than the others, it’s more intense, and longer-lasting than the others had been.

“Y/N, look at me, baby, you’re doing so good,” Sam praises as you whimper through the contraction. Sam leans forward and presses a kiss on your forehead as the pain subsides. “You’re so strong, Y/N.”

“I didn’t expect it to be that big.”

Five hours later, you’re cradling your newborn son against your chest. Sam’s behind you, whispering praises in your ears and holding you tight against him. You present your breast to the babe, encouraging him to latch on, and to your delight he does so quickly. Sam makes a joke about how Dean was always a boob man, and you comment how his namesake must’ve inherited his predilection as well.

Sam tenses behind you, and you quickly realize your mistake. Dean was always on your mind, and moreso Sam’s, but you rarely, if ever, said his name out loud. It seemed to pain Sam to hear his brother’s name, so you avoided it as much as you could. But now the baby is here, and you wonder if it's a good idea to name him after the fallen Winchester.

Sam’s hands are wrapped around your still swollen center, and you turn your face to his. Tears are escaping from his hazel eyes, and when they meet your Y/E/C ones, he gives you a small smile.

“We don’t have to name him Dean,” you offer, even though you honestly couldn’t think of a more fitting name for your son. “If you don’t–”

“It’s not that, baby,” he sighs, wiping at the fallen tears. “I just– I miss him. Dean should– he should be here. He should be here to meet our son.”

You nod, and focus your attention back on the newborn, suckling gently at your breast. One of Sam’s hands leaves your stomach, and his fingers brush against the infant’s soft skin, remarking that he’d never seen a baby with so much hair, and that he looked so small. You chuckle, and remind him that if he had to push a nine-pound watermelon out of his body, he wouldn’t think it was small.

Sam concedes, unable to contain his laughter, and the brief tension that was in the room disappears and doesn’t return. After little Dean is finished, you and Sam take turns counting his fingers and toes, cooing at your son as you take in all his features.

A nurse returns, and you reluctantly let her take Dean away to be properly cleaned, weighed and measured. She instructs both you and Sam to sleep while you can, joking that you’ll be getting very little from now on. Thanks to Sam being a human incubator you curl up against him and let all of the exhaustion from the last 24 hours finally catch back up to you.

You're woken by Sam a few hours later, informing you that Jody, the girls, and Bobby are outside. Sam slips from behind you, and disappears out of the room for a moment before returning with your found family. Jody’s eyes are filled with tears, throwing her arms around you, congratulating you as Bobby claps Sam on the back.

The same nurse returns with Dean as everyone settles in their places around the room. Jody instantly fawns over the baby caressing his chubby cheeks before allowing Sam to pick him up and hand him over to her.

Jody makes a solid promise to spoil the boy rotten. Claire’s body language changed when Alex handed baby Dean over, and after a few minutes, didn’t want to seem to let him go. Bobby becomes impatient as Claire refuses to pass the baby on. Finally, Sam steps in, plucking the baby from her arms, and walking over to Bobby.

“You ready to meet your grandson?” Sam asks, and a smile you’d never seen before appears on Bobby’s face. Sam places the swaddled baby into Bobby’s arms, and you’re sure you see a tear slip down his cheek.

“Looks like he’s takin’ after his momma,'' Bobby laughs. “Lucky boy, hopefully you won’t be an idjit like your daddy and uncle,” he sends you a playful wink. “Just know you ain’t alone, kid. You got more people who will love and protect you than any other kid in the world.”

“Did you tell ‘em?” You ask, trying to move into a slightly more comfortable position.

“Tell us what?” Jody asks from the chair beside your bed.

“Y/N and I, we want you and Bobby to be his godparents. If anything were to ever happen to us, we want you to take care of him.”

“Well, maybe you can tell us his name first,” Claire pipes up, and you hadn’t even realized that you hadn’t told them yet.

“Dean,” Sam eyes his son still in Bobby’s arms. “Dean Robert Winchester.”

Let me know what you think via ask or reblog! Feedback is fuel!

#333 badass followers #sam x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fluff #minor spoilers for 15 x 20 #15 x 20 spoilers

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calliopesstories · 3 years

Text

A New Addition To His Collection - Chapter One

Relationships: Loki x Sigyn, Loki x Reader, Platonic!Sigyn x Platonic!Reader, Loki x Lorelei

Warnings: 18+, smut (I’ll try the best I can), historical inaccuracy, misogyny and belief of 18th century, mention of death and sex, arranged marriage, abusive relationship and father, mistreatment, humiliation, Loki being kind of an A-Hole for a good part of the story /!\ Not proof read and non-english speaker writter /!\

Summary: To have a father ambassador had been the best thing to ever happen to you. You always were lucky, whether it was for such things as the family you were born in or for more common thing like games, you had never lost a game in your life. But you knew your luck would run out one day, eventually, so you enjoyed it while it last. Luck was what brought you at the royal court and it was luck again that made you meet its most important figure. However you had serious doubt on the strength of your luck against the traps and deceptions of the court.

Author’s Note: None

You were so sick of travelling. A week or two was fine, but an entire month was enough! Especially in a carriage, not matter how comfortable it is. Yet you didn’t complain one bit to your parents, not a lot of people could travel like you do. You were lucky to be born within one of the wealthiest and most noble houses of Midgard, not everyone had your luck and you saw it from the palace of Valaskjalf to the one of Gardariki. Poverty was not a concept you were familiar with, maybe one day you will maybe you won’t but your mother had always told you to give just as much as you received so, whenever you had the chance, you went to orphanage or shelters to give them food, clothes and better living conditions.

Leaving the golden palace of Asgard to roam the countryside was a nice change of view, although the Asgardian court was friendly, very casual and joyful, it was too artificial with its golden walls and geometrical gardens. You had no idea what the palace of Gardariki was like but your father had told you the palace was on top of a hill, surrounded by trees, very beautiful during winter.

You head was resting on your mother’s shoulder when she woke you up. You felt sore after staying on the carriage for so long. You had arrived at Gardariki, the palace was visible from afar. Your father was right, it was breathtaking. All those trees made the castle as if it was growing from the earth just like the trees surrounding it. You had never saw something like it, not even on Jotunheim – though you had stayed a few days there, too dangerous for your father’s liking. The carriage entered within the walls of the castle main courtyard. You saw people outside looking at the carriage, surely the word must have spread that King Loki ambassador was coming back to court after years away. This had never been in your father’s plan; it was your mother that insisted on having you back home and your father had posed the condition of you going to court with him. Of course, it didn’t please your mother and she invited herself because seeing you once in a while had been too hard for her, there was no way she was letting you out of her sight once again!

“Your Grace, my ladies. I’m Skurge, the king sent me to welcome you at the palace,” the man bowed in front of your family. “If you will.”

“Actually,” said your mother. “My daughter and I have a very important meeting. Surely you must know about it.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Lady Leah will escort you there.”

The lady in question was a young girl, about twelve years-old with raven hair, light blue eyes and a snow-white skin. She looked like those paintings representing old Greek gods. Your father left with Skurge while Lady Leah asked you to follow her. Your mother had been very secretive to who was this person you absolutely had to meet. You feared it might be a suitor. Since you came back, she had this crazy idea to marry you. She thought your travels with your father would find you a man of high birth to marry and was more than disappointed when she learnt you had left each court, you’d be in without at least one proposal. Truth was, there had been many of those, you were the one to refuse them. You were not ready; you wanted to enjoy life and would only marry if the man would let you have your freedom. Contrary to what your mother thought, you had not in plan to end up an old maid, you wanted a family but not now.

Lady Leah escorted you to the fourth floor of the palace. Before pushing the white and gold double door she warned you not to say a word before you are been addressed to. The room you first entered was astonishing, the furniture, the walls, the decorations were all made of gold features and delicate paintings. You could see the greatest moment of Midgard history on the ceiling or its reflection on the marble floor. You had never seen such luxury in one place. Not even the castle you had lived in was as beautiful.

You walked in a much bigger room. In the centre of the room was a blond woman surrounded by two others, about your mother’s age, were discussing. Leah coughed to get the woman attention. As soon as she saw your mother a smile lighted her face. You realized you were in front of the queen. You kneeled in front of her.

“Y/M/N! I’m so happy to see you,” the queen hugged your mother. She was nothing like you would expect a queen to be. “Is that your daughter? Oh, please stand up.”

“Yes, Sigyn. This is Y/N, my only child and greatest pride and joy. Sweetheart, this is Queen Sigyn, her mother and I were really good friend. My condolences for her death.”

You saw sadness crossed her eyes then vanished as soon as it came. The queen offered you a seat with her lady-in-waiting. You were surprised the older women were her lady-in-waiting and so was Leah, yours were of your age – and on their way to the palace.

“Tell me, Y/N, your mother had told in a letter that you had travelled a lot, have you served as lady-in-waiting for another queen?” you shook your head. You had only enjoyed the life at court. “Well, I’m sure you’ll do fantastically with me.”

“I’m sorry?” your mother proceeded to tell you she had managed to find you a place at court as the queen’s lady-in-waiting. “I have never done that before but I assure Your Majesty, I will do my best.”

The queen cupped your hands in hers, she gave you a warm smile. She believed in your words and told you to be by her side tomorrow at 7 a.m. for her awakening. You were excited. You very first day at court and you were already meeting the queen. A beautiful woman with a kind heart you could tell. Yet the more she looked at you the more worried she become. You had no experience, it was a fact she knew but you had lady-in-waiting of your own, you knew exactly what they had to do for you and it was a great opportunity you had no intention of screwing up.

An hour later your mother and yourself found your way to your quarter. A spacious place that consisted of two bedrooms, a dining room, a living room, chambers for the servants and a boudoir hidden behind your bedroom – you were sure another one existed behind your parent’s bedroom. Except for your bedroom and boudoir that were blue and gold, the rest of the rooms were green, the king’s favourite colour.

Until your ladies arrived the queens had gifted you her very own ladies to prepare you for the day. Although you tried not to listen to their conversation you couldn’t unhear what you caught. Mainly the women spoke about how unhappy the queen was, it seemed to be a recurring theme of conversation as you heard it again the corridors leading to the queen’s apartments. The queen was already dressed when you arrive. Panic started to run through your vein, you had checked the hour twice before going and she shouldn’t have been up already. The queen reassured you right away. She had been up for an hour already and couldn’t stay in bed.

“Should I come sooner Your Majesty?” you asked her, worried that it would happen again and after some times she would grow tired of you being late.

“Oh no, my dear. Don’t worry. You see,” she lowered her voice and nearly whispered in your ears. “Sometimes I like being alone. Enjoying the quietness of my apartments without all the fuss of court. Walking from room to room in my nightgown. Truth is Y/N, I don’t have many acquaintances at court.”

You were touched by the queen’s statement. She felt comfortable enough already to tell something so personal. After everything you had heard coming here, you could understand why the queen liked being left alone time to time. Her whole life since her marriage had been nothing but showing herself, faking smiles, pretending enjoying parties and producing an heir to the crown. From what you had heard she was unable to do all those things and no one had the sympathy to try to understand her pain. She was literally locking herself in her apartments waiting for sweet death to take her. And you barely knew the woman! If you were able to understand all those things surely people who knew her longer must have seen it.

“Well,” you broke the silence. “I’m sure we will become very good friends.”

There it was: her smile. Genuine and hopeful. Similar to yours but with a dash of desperation. Her grip on your arm became stronger, as if you were an illusion, she was desperately trying to make real. You put your hand and hers and patted gently. I’m here now, you tried to tell her. Being her lady-in-waiting was a chance for you but for the queen it was an opportunity at happiness. You just had no idea how much she needed you. Finally someone close to her age, someone to talk to, to share secrets and fears. Someone, she hoped, wouldn’t judge her.

“I’d like to have a walk in the garden. Join me.”

“I thought there was no garden here.”

“Oh, there’s one. Not far from here, in the forest. There’s also a labyrinth and a cave that goes under the castle with an underground river we can sail on. But don’t worry the path to go there is secured by guards. Oh I can’t wait to show you everything the castle has to offer.”

“And I can’t wait to see them.”

You were like two little and impatient girls. You hadn’t even warned your parents you would go with the queen in the garden and the queen warned no one. Her lady-in-waiting didn’t even saw the two of you escaping the apartments. For Sigyn it was the most fun she had since she had been made queen. Your youth made her wanted to do thing the others ladies wouldn’t even consider. Not even Leah, who was young, but too young.

Surprisingly you managed to get out of the castle without no one stopping you. The guards did bow at the queen presence but none said a thing. They must have assumed the queen was on a daily walk. The garden was worth all the walk. Wild and tamed at the same times. The trees offered a natural roof to the flowers beneath and although there was a well-maintained paved path it seemed like nothing was really taken care off. Sigyn showed you the entrance of the labyrinth. She had never tried to enter it and blamed her poor orientation skills and her fear of being stuck in the labyrinth. There was a labyrinth in the garden of the Asgardian palace but the bushes were – at their highest – right at your waist line, you had always been able to see where you were going. This was not the case here. The grassy walls were taller than your father – a man known to be tall – and even if there were decorated with flowers the walls were frightening you.

The queen and you sat on the bench, enjoying the sound of nature and the view the garden offered you. You spoke a little to know each other best. The queen confessed to you she hadn’t spoke that much to someone since her last favourite. She spoke highly of the unknown woman until she mentioned some kind of betrayal she had done to the queen. The woman had been her closest friend, her confident but she had betrayed the queen like no other woman before. The tale was so heart-breaking that neither of you heard the hurried footsteps coming your way.

“Sigyn!” thundered a displeased voice. The Queen turned her head to the man whom the voice belonged to and she wasn’t very pleased either. “May I know what you’re doing here? I thought I’d been clear when I told you I want to know where you are at any given time!”

The queen was blocking your view of the man. Because you thought it was safer to take the blame you stood up in order to explain the situation. You saw your father first, which confused you because you never imagined your father chastising the queen, plus the voice wasn’t his. Then you saw the man beside him. A tall man, with long raven hair, mesmerizing green eyes matching his black and green outfit. That was the moment you realised you were in front of the king. You quickly kneeled, bowing your head and praying to any gods willing to hear to have his mercy. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! you thought. It was one thing to confront your father, it was another to confront the king.

“Who’s that?” you hear him say. Your father promptly answered his question. You couldn’t see the king’s face but you were sure it didn’t change much. “So, you’re my wife new lady-in-waiting. I guess I can excuse your ignorance.”

With his fingers he made you rose your head enough to face him. You felt like a prey under the gaze of a predator. He offered you a hand to help you get on your feet. You shot a quick look at both your father and the queen. Your heart stopped the race it was in the very second the queen smiled at you; you weren’t out of the woods yet but you had done nothing wrong that could anger the king even more.

“You see Lady Y/N, my wife has the tendency to wander in the castle and to never be where I need her to be. As your lady-in-waiting you have to tell me where she is. I don’t want my queen to get attack, or worst. Do you understand?” The king didn’t let go of your hand and you were too scared to ask for its release, so you nodded. It was perfectly unfair to the queen but you had no choice. “It’s not against you Sigyn, you know that.”

He hadn’t break eye contact with you but he had let go of your hand. The queen promptly took your arm and pushed you behind her, assuring the king she understood his motivations.

“His Majesty can rest assure; I am more than grateful for his concerned about my safety. To avoid any misunderstanding I will, for now on, go on walks with Lady Y/N. I will leave you a note on my desk to inform you of where I intend to go.”

“It’s all I ask for,” the king approached the queen to kiss her forehead. Your parents do that a lot and every times you could feel their love expressed through this simple gesture. But there was no love here. “Lady Y/N, I hope you will stay by my wife’s side for a long time. You managed to do in a day what no one had done in years.”

“I will stay with her as long as I can Your Majesty.”

Your father encouraged you to smile to the king but you couldn’t bring yourself to that. You were uncomfortable with his persistent look on you and by the way the queen was now behaving you had no problem imagining what it meant. Then the king and his flock of ministers left the garden. Unknowingly to both you and the queen, Loki gave you a last look, a grin on his face.

He liked what you father had told him, he liked what he saw and he was sure he would like you. Rare was the new blood at his court. You were young, fresh and unmarried, exactly what he was craving for. You wouldn’t be the first – or the last – of his wife companions to fall into his arms. But something told him you put a good fight before letting yourself go in his sheets. The excitement of a new conquest made his blood boiled a little more than it already was. The view you had gave him was a gift itself. He had to bless the man – or woman – that had gifted the dresses with such cleavage and made the corset pushed the breasts upward.

His wife had taken older women has companions to avoid any temptation for him but he was already tempted by you. And by the way his wife had been protective of you so quickly he knew she was fully aware of that and wouldn’t give up that easily this time. She had lost all the battles against him, yet you were a friend she intended to keep. Loki was right, in a day you had made her feel better than she had ever been since the treason of her last lady-in-waiting. She could trust you not to fall for his lies and fake promises. Sigyn would do anything to keep you away from her husband and she intended to do so the very the next. She had been taught how to be the most desirable for the king, she would teach you the exact opposite. She wouldn’t let you be new addition to his collection of women.

“Y/N?” she finally said. “Do you pray often?”

“As much as I can Your Majesty,” you weren’t a fanatic but you feared God’s judgment and avoid any sins. Your education wasn’t only about good manners and expansion of the mind, it was also religious. “Why do you ask?”

“You can call me Sigyn when it’s only the two of us you know,” she took a minute to think and turned to you. “For nothing, just out of curiosity.”

Because none of her companions had been very religious before. It was nasty of her to do that but if keeping you meant manipulating your faith, it was a risk she was willing to take. For your sake.

Taglist:

@learisa

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki x y/n #loki x sigyn #loki x you #loki smut #mcu imagine #mcu smut #Marvel Cinematic Universe imagine

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lexibugsblog · 4 years

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Sharing with Strangers

WARNINGS: N/A, cuddles and fluff

Arvin One Shot

This is my first fan fiction I've ever written so please be gentle :D

Arvin makes it to Cincinnati and gets dropped off at a diner

A red Volkswagen pulls up outside, a man in a baseball cap with a duffel bag throw over his shoulder steps out waving at the other man before he drives off. I look at the clock on the opposite side of the wall, 3:23 A.M. The bell chimes above the door as he strolls in, worn baseball cap still hiding his face.

“Hi, welcome in!” I regenerate my normal greeting. I grab my notepad and make my way over to him,

“What can I getcha’?”

“Just coffee.” He states quietly, glancing out at me from the corner of his eye. “Coming right up,” I notify him, giving him a smile. Once I prepare the coffee I bring it over to him, setting it down on a napkin. “Thank you,” he mutters, this time his head looks up for a split second. I turn to walk away, but he looked in need of some company and there was only one other guest, asleep at a corner booth towards the back of the diner, so I slide into the corner booth across from him. He finally looks up at me, mouth agape. “How long have you been on the road?” I inquire.

“How did you-” he takes off his cap, his mused hair adding to his disheveled appearance.

“You look like haven’t had a good meal or a good sleep in a minute,” I explain, he seems a bit taken back at this point, maybe insecure about how he looked, but he shouldn’t be, even worn to the bone he looked drop-dead handsome.

“So, are you running away from something or to it?”

“Take a guess,” he smiles playfully before taking a sip of his coffee. I laugh a little, lacing my fingers together on the table. I purse my lips, taking him in, his chocolate eyes watching me, awaiting my response. “Running away,”

“Why do you guess that?”

“Your eyes,” I explain, he laugh awkwardly breaking eye contact at that moment.” You have tired eyes, full of woe, not hope, at least not as much as someone who would be running to something. Also, you were hitchhiking, so it must have been abrupt and really bad whatever it is your running form.” His eyes then flicker back up at me for a moment, nearly brimming with tears. My heart sunk to my stomach, “I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to-” I begin apologizing profusely, getting up from the booth.

“No, no really it’s okay,” he gestures back to the booth,” Please stay.” I hesitate as he sniffles, running his hands over his face, pushing away any water that was on the verge of spilling out. “Please.” He says on last time before I take my seat across from him again. “I really am sorry.” I declare one last time. “It’s okay, really,” He assures me, “Its just been a long drive.” I nod, shifting in my seat, trying to break the uncomfortable silence without overstepping again.

“Where are you headed, if you don’t mind my asking.” I preface this time.

“I don’t know. The man that picked me up said he was headed here, so I’m here.”

“Where were you coming from?” he opened his mouth to speak, a name on the edge of his lips be he stopped himself, thinking on the answer, “A small town, on the other side of Ohio” I laugh softly to myself. He smiles back at me, eyebrow raised in confusion, “What? You don’t believe me?”

“Nothing,” I smile pushing my hair out of my face, “You just really have this whole ‘handsome mysterious stranger’ thing down pat. You show up at three in the morning to a 24/7 diner, ball cap shielding your face, duffel bag slung over your shoulder. Then when asked where you’re from, you give the vaguest answer a person could get.” He chuckles, once again running his hand through his hair, “You think I’m handsome?” he flirts halfheartedly. I let out a laugh, blush filling both our cheeks as he laughs along with me. He had a beautiful laugh, much lighter then he himself seemed to be. This time, even once our laughter died down, the silence didn’t seem as uncomfortable as before.

“Look,” I prompt, “how about I make you some food, on the house, I get off at five and we can go back to my place.” he seemed in awe of this offer, hell I was a bit in awe of my offering, but something about him seemed different. I’ve lived in this city my entire life, I had met a lot of people most of them questionable at best, but he had something about him that made him seem like a genuinely good person. “It’s not a lot but its a real bed, at least for the night.”

“I’d really appreciate that.” he finally answered after a beat.

“Okay,” I give him a nod and a smile before getting up from the booth to prepare him some burger and fries. Time ticked by quickly after he finished eating and I finished cleaning up it was nearly time to go. I finish packing up my sketchbook, and art supplies that had been laid out on the counter before he’d come in when Sarah finally comes in to relieve me. I grab my backpack before heading over to his booth to let him know we could go. “What’s your name by the way?” I ask as he slides out of the booth.

“Arvin, my names Arvin,” he states as he throws his duffel bag over his shoulder. “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet your Arvin.”

The walk back to my apartment was quiet, I began overthinking things. What if he was some crazy person, I sneak a glance at him, what if he murders me or something once we get back to my place. How could I even begin to politely retract my offer, he looks over at me a shy smile on his lips, as his hand tightens around the strap of his bag. Before I could say anything, we were at my apartment,

“This is it,” I tell him, as I begin fumbling for my keys. “Hey,” he stops me, “If you’re uncomfortable I can find a motel.” He gives me a sympathetic smile and once again my heart wrenches looking into his bloodshot eyes. He’s been through it, I don’t know exactly what it was but I could tell he needed a little human kindness.

“No, I’m not, just promise...promise you won’t, like, murder me or anything?” I propose, he chuckles sticking out his pinky finger, “I promise,” he says, as I wrap my pinky around his. We both smile inwardly as I finally find the apartment key. After walking up a couple flights of stairs, I open the door to my place, flicking on the lights, as we enter. I sit my things down on the small kitchen island, I shove my hands in the pockets of my bib, becoming a little insecure myself as he looked around. I hated the color of these walls, it must have once been a vibrant orange but over the years has become dull, the pale yellow overhead light not helping. The covers of my bed disheveled, I’d always meant to get into the habit of making it but I never did. He then sat his bag down, moving over to the large window the by the bed, he looked out it,

“I’m going to change real quick,” I inform him as I meddle through my closet for my pj’s “Feel free to make yourself at home.” I gesture to the whole one room of my apartment. I quickly change into a sweater, shorts, and some comfortable socks before exiting the bathroom only to find him staring at my painting sitting the easel.

“That’s not finished,” I explain, biting my thumbnail, watching him admire the unfinished painting of a naked woman.

“This is really good.” he compliments. It could be better. It isn’t until he turns around, I stop looking at all the imperfections of the painting and I actually look at him, no more jacket, baseball cap, or even shoes, he looked perfectly at home, as if he was made to be here, at this moment. I wished i could capture this image forever, it almost felt like a dream.

“Thank you,” I finally say, remembering he paid me a compliment just a moment ago. I shake my head of all the thoughts swirling around in my head as I begin to turn the bed down for him. “I’ll take the couch,” I say pulling the throw blanket off the back of it.

“Definitely not,” he states firmly.

“What?”

“I’ll take the couch, I’m the guest.”

“Which is exactly why you get the bed.”

“I’m not letting you-”

“Look,” I interrupt him for the second time tonight, “I promised you a bed to sleep in tonight, and that what you’re going to get,” I say firmly, he presses his lips together in defeat. “We could share?” my cheeks flushed at the thought, but with my back to him he was none the wiser.” I mean, if that’s okay, I don’t want to make you feel weird or anything, I just..” he begins stumbling over his words, causing a smile to pull on my lips. “Okay,” I say finally turning to him.

“Okay.” he agrees his lips pulled together in a tight smile. As he settles into bed I turn out the lights before joining him. At first, we both lay on our backs, neither of us saying anything. Eventually, I began to hear the patter of rain against the window, and his breathing became more shallow. I finally look over at him for a moment, the neon lights of the outside shining onto him, he really is beautiful, this is the last thought that passes through my mind before drifting off.

I wake up the next morning to the sound of a heartbeat thudding in my ear. As I come to I realize my leg is flung across his hips, and his arms are snaked around my body. Part of me felt like I should be freaking out, I only met him yesterday, but a big part of me couldn’t deny how natural and comforting this felt like this was how things were meant to be. Not long after he finally woke, realizing our position he quickly lifts his hands from my body, not all the way, just hovering above where they were.“Im not uncomfortable.” I simply say, and with that his hands return, tightening even. Yeah, this is good.

Once we finally get up from bed, he takes a quick shower I make us breakfast. He comes out of the bathroom in the same disheveled clothes from yesterday before sitting on a stool at the island. I set a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of him before taking a seat beside him with my own plate.”So, whats next?” I prompt. He takes a bit, thinking about the question for a moment. Selfishly I knew what I wanted his answer to be, but also I could tell he’d been on a long journey before he’d out into the stranger’s van that brought him to hear, and he had a long one left to go. He finally swallows and looks over at me, a boyish grin plastered onto his face, “I think I might stay here for a while if you’ll have me.” I toothy smile spread across my face, he may not be around for long, but I was more then happy to be part of his story, even if just for a little while.

#oneshot #arvin russel x reader #arvin russell #the devil all the time #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #tom holland #netflix #diner aesthetic #artchick

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alecmagnuslwb · 3 years

Text

Home Is Where the Heart Is - @doubleredweek Day 2

Read on AO3

Jason is bleeding, he’s bleeding and delirious and yet still somehow finds the time to complain as Roy pulls into the lot of a bright, nightmarish looking motel.

“We are not staying here,” Jason grumbles from the passenger seat of the, let’s call it borrowed, Honda Civic they’ve been driving in for the past twenty minutes.

Roy turns his head giving Jason a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ look as he pulls into a spot as far away from the main lobby of the motel as he can.

Tonight had gone almost entirely tits up with what should have been a fairly routine stakeout becoming an all-out battle of them versus a crew of creepy human traffickers.

The traffickers will be spending the rest of their days either in jail or thanks to a few bullets from Jason six feet under. However, Jason had taken a bit of beating along the way, enough of one that he doesn’t get to do anything more than get better right now.

“You are bleeding from about seven places on your body that you shouldn’t be bleeding, you don’t get any say in where we lay our hats for the night,” Roy responds as puts the car in park and moves to get out. “Plus, the next motel isn’t for another fifty miles and you’ll probably get sepsis because of the blade sticking out of your shoulder before we could get there so deal with it.”

He doesn’t wait to listen to Jason’s strained arguments he just slams the door shut and heads for the trunk. He pulls the first sort of clean thing he can find in thre from one of their bags and slips it on to cover up the majority of his Arsenal costume and the few cuts and bruises he’s sporting himself. It’s an old Gotham Knights hoodie of Jason’s, for a moment Roy considers looking for something else his Star City Stags blood crawling wearing enemy colors, but decides against it considering his boyfriend is bleeding in the passenger seat.

He half jogs his way to the main lobby where the front desk sits. The electric bell on the door jingles a variation of that little boxes song that’s accompanied one too many suburban horror movie trailers over the years as Roy walks in. Roy’s eyes practically have to squint at the colors inside. The bright lurid pink paint of the exterior has nothing on the mix of greens, yellows and pinks inside.

“Welcome to the Home is Where the Heart Is Motel, how can I help you?” an old woman behind the desk says. She looks like someone’s grandmother, like she has her dinner at four in the afternoon, Jeopardy! At 7:30 and then she’s promptly off to bed. She doesn’t look like she should be working a front desk at nearly two a.m., but she definitely looks like she designed this place.

Roy puts on his best I’m a good, respectable young man smile and asks for a room without incident. The old woman just smiles not missing a beat when he asks for the room furthest away or a do not disturb sign that he tells her will be up probably their entire stay, she doesn’t give him the questionable looks or the bored disinterest that most people in her position give them. She doesn’t even bat an eye when Roy asks for just one bed for he and his boyfriend. When she tells him to have a lovely stay, he actually believes her.

The place may be atrocious to look at, but it’s not all that bad Roy decides, Jason’s just being extra judgy with his blood loss.

The next forty minutes blur past him so quickly he doesn’t really even pay attention to what their room looks like. He tosses their bags on the bed and quickly settles Jason on the closed toilet seat and gets to work stripping him of his bloodied gear and bandaging up every injury.

The bright pink garbage can and the canary yellow sink look like crime scenes by the time Roy is done cleaning every wound Jason has and removed the small blade that had been stuck in his shoulder.

Jason seems more awake once he’s been patched up and Roy’s given him a cursory wash so he settles him down on the bed while he takes care of himself. By the times he’s done washing the grime out of his hair and finishing off yet another bottle of peroxide on cleanup Jason is upright on the bed cleaning his guns his eyes scanning the room every so often.

“This place is ridiculous,” he says eyes concentration never straying from the task at hand. Now that he has the chance Roy really takes in the decor. The bathroom he’d just cleaned up is subtle with its yellow and pink tile and floral shower curtain compared to this.

This is your grandmother’s dream home. The bright pink and green walls are lined with decorative plates mostly covered in poppies, but with a few Princess Diana memorabilia pieces mixed in. The bed is covered in horridly yellow sheets with a clearly handmade quilt in a kaleidoscope of prints on top, the bed frames an elaborate wooden nightmare that Roy is truly concerned if you slipped and fell would impale you immediately. There’s even a couch in the corner covered in plastic, perfectly preserved in its original condition.

Passingly Roy thinks maybe he should have just cleaned up Jason’s wounds on that instead.

Okay, so maybe judgy blood loss Jason wasn’t totally wrong, but they’ve definitely stayed in weirder and way more unsettling places. The Elvis isn’t dead themed motel in Arkansas comes to mind.

“It’s fine,” Roy says falling onto his side of the bed jostling the components of Jason’s gun he’s yet to reassemble. Jason throws him an annoyed look that Roy just smiles cheekily back at.

“Good thing I’m feeling better because there’s no way I’m going to be sleeping with the color of these walls,” he says swiftly piecing the last of his guns back together. “Either that or I’m going to have terrible dreams of evil suffocating plastic couches.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, the lady up front was very sweet, it’s like spending the weekend at grandmas!” Roy says with a smile.

“I never had a grandma,” Jason says with a shake of his head falling backwards onto the bed guns discarded off to the side with the safety on. “And you didn’t either for that matter.”

“Aw, Jaybird come on, this place is all about home, look at the name!” Roy defends as he leans over the bed and switches his crystal bedside lamp off.

“If this is what you consider homely you shouldn’t be allowed to own a home,” Jason says gesturing around the room in a general manner. He leans over turning off his own bedside lamp before shuffling under the covers curling up against Roy careful of his tender ribs.

“You’re welcome by the way, for not letting you bleed to death,” Roy says into the dark, that okay, isn’t fully dark he can definitely still see some pink and green even with all the lights out.

“I wouldn’t have bled to death,” Jason huffs. “But thanks.”

Roy rolls his eyes even if Jason can’t see it and pulls him close snuggling in comfortably under the ugly, but warm grandma quilt for the night.

#my fic #jayroy #jayroyweek2021 #jason todd #roy harper #writersmonth2021

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years

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4. Minefields--Ashton Irwin ‘Lovers in a Song’ series

a/n: So while each ‘chapter’ is titled after a song it’s more of the mood and a few choice lyrics that really made the story. This story changed a lot as I wrote it but in the end it all flows really nicely together. I’m so excited to share this with you! Each part is 3,000 with the exception of the last part. Please don’t hesitate to send me messages, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Word count: 3k

warnings: PLEASE READ THIS FIRST, there is physical abuse in this, it is minimal/accidental and happens after drinking/drug usage please, please read with caution, drug use mentioned briefly but no particular drug named, aftermath of drugs, aftermath of hit, more angst

Masterlist

LIAS masterlist

***

1 Year Ago

Cressida is flipping through her magazine on the couch in her hotel suite in Italy. She’s here on a promotional trip for the newest Brandy she helped design. It has a hint of vanilla and is in a beautiful gold bottle. Ashton gave her the idea.

Ashton is also in the hotel across the street. She wonders if he’s thinking of her too. The last time they were together they got into a big fight about Gavin and Lucinda. Ashton’s heard rumors he’s a part of a large drug cartel involving opioids, hallucinogens, the whole nine yards. Cressida disagreed because that’s all just rumors to stir the pot.

She fired back that Lucinda is only after Ashton’s money and plans on taking it all in a large divorce battle where she’d play victim. Ashton told her she was insane and they both left the hotel in huffs of fury.

She flips past a page that has her and Gavin blown up on both pages while they were out walking for lunch. The small article claims there’s “trouble in paradise and alcohol might be at risk.” Gavin has been partying a lot more recently and doesn’t come home until five a.m. most days. Cressida checks the watch on her wrist that matches the bracelet Ashton gifted her.

It’s nearly 2 in the morning now, her jet lag is still a nuisance. She glances to the open window and sees movement in Ashton’s room behind the white curtain. The only way she knows it’s his room is because that’s where they stayed while they were here that wonderful summer.

Her lips are pursed as she contemplates and thinks, eyes glancing to the pink rotary phone and the short yet oh so far distance to where Ashton is. Giving in, she reaches for the phone and dials the hotel’s number asking for the room Mr. Irwin is staying it. When asked who they should say is calling she told them, “say it’s Miss Gold.”

The phone hums in her ear and she saunters over the window waiting to hear his voice and to hopefully see him in the window.

“It’s you,” his voice is soft and quiet. He almost sounds relieved.

“It’s me,” she smiles and begins to pace. “I know this might be a mistake calling you this late but…”

“But what angel?”

The use of her nickname is a sign that he misses her too. She moves in front of the window and sees his silhouette facing her.

“These dreams I have of you aren’t real enough.”

He’s silent for a beat.

“Is he there with you?”

“No, he’s at some club. He doesn’t get back until early in the morning anyway, I could come over and—”

Cressida stops short because she hears a woman’s voice behind Ashton asking if he ordered the turn down service yet. Her heart sinks as she watches in horror when Lucinda wraps her arms around Ashton, their silhouettes become one large shadow. There’s a lump in Cressida’s throat and her vision becomes blurred with tears.

“Is that them? Let me tell them there were used towels—hello? I’d like to complain—”

Cressida slams the pink phone in its cradle, the ringer tings loudly as her tears fall in rage and hurt. She shuts her curtain and falls into bed falling asleep by draining the sadness from her heart.

There’s a New Year’s Eve Party happening at The Golden Lion and Cressida is there with Gavin. When she spotted Ashton by himself at the bar with a friend of his, Luke she thinks is his name, she wants to put on a show for him since Lucinda is absent.

Cressida’s felt embarrassed ever since that phone call to him in Italy. Clearly there’s something going on between Ashton and Lucinda, right? More than just publicity? Cressida downed two lemon shots in a row, loving the sweet and sour taste of the lemon and sugar.

Anytime she and Gavin were in eyesight of Ashton, she’d drape herself over Gavin and laughed extra loud. Sober, she’d hate herself for acting this petty, but being intoxicated made it all appear crystal clear. She could feel Ashton’s gaze on her the whole night until she ducked away to the bathroom.

When she exited she caught sight of Gavin with his hand up some woman’s dress and she’s giggling at something he’s saying in her ear. Cressida sees red, because not only is Ashton happy in his ‘relationship’ leaving her in the dust, but Gavin is also doing it for all the world to see.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Cressida shrieks making her way towards Gavin.

The girl he was hitting on gasps then quickly ducks away back into the main hall where the party is. Gavin sighs rolling his neck from side to side before facing Cressida.

“Please, don’t tell me you’re hurt about this,” he scoffs. “Why don’t you go run to Irwin?”

“What are you talking about? You can’t be seen making out with someone who isn’t me, not when our relationship is in the spotlight 24/7.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t need me to be in the spotlight. You don’t need anyone because you’re Cressida Leigh James, the princess of Brandy because your great grandaddy double-crossed his partner. Guess that does run in the family.”

Cressida felt like she got slapped. While her and Gavin’s relationship is merely for public eye, they always seemed to have gotten along pretty well. She thought they were somewhat friends, but she has been double-crossing him this whole time. She’s been double-crossing her entire family from three years ago.

“You really think I want to marry you?” Gavin stalks closer to her and she backs away, he’s never acted this way with her before. “You’re a selfish rich girl expecting that everyone loves you. I never did and I never will, so when it is announced that we are to be married, I’ll be as faithful as you’ve been to me. See you at midnight.”

He shoves past her and Cressida is left alone with her shame and guilt. It falls out of her from her tears that won’t seem to stop. She hobbles from the room to go back into the bathroom, she’ll stay there for the rest of the night. No one wants her. Ashton has Lucinda, Gavin has everyone else. While she’s swiping at her cheeks trying to dry her tears, she collides into someone and by the smell of his cologne she knows exactly who.

“Cressida? What happened?” Ashton asks steadying her by her shoulders.

“It’s not like you care,” she cries trying to continue her way past him.

“What are you talking about? Did Gavin hurt you? I’ll kill him, I swear I’ll—”

“I’ve hurt myself. I’m hurting other people, too. Leave me alone, Ash, you should be with Lucinda.”

“Angel—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I should have known you’d be right here waiting in the wings for her to fall back into bed with you, Irwin,” Gavin’s voice strikes her like a whip. “I came to apologize but I was right. You are a slut for him.”

“Watch your mouth, de Poiters,” Ashton warns shifting Cressida behind him. He takes a step closer to Gavin, his fingers twitching. He’s wanted to punch Gavin ever since he saw he’s been linked with Cressida.

Gavin laughs and comes toe to toe with Ashton, Cressida sniffles watching what will happen. She’s thankful no one else is around, but at the same time she almost wishes there were people witnessing. Then this whole hidden façade could end.

“You hit me then everyone will know about you. Even her Daddy.”

Ashton clenches his jaw and Cressida gasps. Why would he say it like that?

“I know a lot more than you two think,” he jeers. “But I guess I owe you thanks, because I don’t ever have to fuck her.”

Ashton’s fist connects with Gavin’s nose in record speed. Cressida shouts in surprise and watches in horror as they tousle, fists colliding with flesh and snatching onto shirts trying to get more than one hit in.

“Stop! Stop! Please!” Cressida cries trying to break them up.

A defensive backhand meant for Ashton strikes Cressida’s cheek and she falls to the floor with a pained scream. Her vision turns black and spotty, and her ear is ringing from the commotion above her.

“You bastard!”

“I didn’t mean to! Cress, are you all right? I’m sorry, please, I didn’t mean to hit you. I took some pills to ease off tension and—”

“Shut the fuck up and get away from her,” Ashton seethes shoving Gavin against the wall. His face is centimeters away from Gavin’s. “If I hear you talk disrespectfully to her again or if you lay a hand on her, I will kill you with my own bare hands. If you have any drugs that are near her, you get rid of them, you hear me?”

“Y-yes. Please, I’m sorry. I need to make sure she’s—”

“She’s not your concern now because you’re on a trip. Sober up and get out of my sight,” Ashton threatens pushing him towards the door. “She’s going to be with me until you stop acting like a fucking teenager and if I hear you’re anywhere near this building, I’ll have you arrested to rot in prison for life.”

Gavin gives one last pleading look to Cressida who is rubbing at her cheek before leaving. Ashton rushes to her side, his fingers graze at the shine on her cheek. It’s already bruising, and she flinches at his touch, her eye clamped shut.

“It’s me. He’s gone and I’m right here,” he soothes keeping his hand hovering above her face. “Can I help you up?”

She nods sniffling, her hands reaching out for him. She’s off balance from drinking and her head is still spinning from the backhand. Ashton helps her walk but it’s hard for her, so he just lifts her into his arms. She cries out in pain when her cheek rubs against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he hushes, “I’ll take you up to our room and clean you up.”

“Okay,��’ she whimpers, lips trembling. She closes her eyes to blink and when she opens them again she’s staring at their room. Her ears are ringing and it’s hard to see through her puffy eyes, both from crying and the slap.

“I’m setting you on the bed and I’ll call Louisa to send up your clothes and a first aid kit,” Ashton tells her. When he sets her on the bed he removes his hands from her like a hot iron. “No one will know what happened, okay?”

Cressida sways in her spot on the bed, her head feels really heavy and all she wants to do is sleep. It seems like forever until Ashton is back in front of her with a pile of clothes she keeps here that the staff washes and a first aid.

“Do you want to change first or have me clean your cheek?” Ashton’s voice is so soft it reminds her of a feather.

“Change. My feet hurt,” she whispers.

He helps her change out of her dress and into the sleep shorts and t-shirt. She lets out a cry when the fabric touches her cheek, he quickly apologizes then opens the kit. His fingers are very cool and gentle as he splays them on her cheek inspecting it.

“You’re bruising already,” he breathes then dabs at it with an alcohol wipe.

“Ow!” she cries.

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos sympathizing with her pain. “I need to clean it and Louisa brought up an ice pack so we can bring down the swelling.”

Tears roll down her cheeks as he cleans her up, he comments on what he’s doing, how well she’s handling it, and when he’s almost finished. He places a small band-aid on the small cut that’s on the apple of her cheek.

“You’re all done,” he kisses her hand then rests the ice pack on her cheek. She winces again when he places her hand over it to keep it on the most swollen part of her bruise. “What can I have the front desk send up for you?”

“Water,” she croaks, “and bread.”

“I’ll be right back.”

He’s gone again and she feels oh so tired, so she lays down on her side letting the ice pack stay on its own. It’s hard to see because her eye is swollen shut, the pack feels good on her bruise. She wants Ashton.

“I’m here, I’m right here,” his voice soothes, and she’s being lifted to the center of the bed. Cressida crawls onto his chest, his arms wrap around her protectively. Hesitantly, and very carefully, he kisses the top of her head.

He helps her drink the water that’s sent up and feeds her the bread in small pieces, it hurts her to chew. And all the while he holds her, his heart aching for her yet also bursting in happiness by being with her. He lays the blanket over them and holds the ice pack on her cheek while she sleeps. It’s a restless night, whenever she turns she lets out a small cry and Ashton is quick to pacify her.

The next morning, she can only see him out of her left eye because her right is shut completely. Ashton smiles at her warmly but then memories of the night before come creeping back. Gavin’s words, his and Ashton’s fight that resulted with her on the floor. Ashton’s lip is cut but other than that he still looks perfect.

“I bet I look horrible,” she croaks trying to sit up then groans. Her body feels like cement and her head is pounding. She lays her head back down gingerly on Ashton’s chest.

“You’re always beautiful,” his fingers rub over her hair, “you’re just a little bruised up right now.”

They lay in silence as the sun starts to rise, the light lifting higher and higher on the wall facing the window. The steady beat of his heart is a familiar tune to her ears. She’s been graced to be in his presence five months earlier than they planned and from what she remembers from last night, she’ll be here with him until Gavin’s sober.

That could take months.

“He’s never hit me before,” she tells him quietly. His fingers pause on her back. “And I know it was an accident. He’s also never talked to me how he did.”

“He was on something, Cressida. That’s why he was acting the way he was. I know it’s fake between you two, but I thought he had respect for you. I want to make sure you’re taken care of when I’m not with you. I meant what I said, you know.”

She shifts her head so she can look at him properly. He’s a little blurry from her distorted vision, there’s some scruff on his chin. The cut on his lip is dry and she’s confused.

“You were hit more than me and I’m the one who looks worse. And I know you did, thank you for helping me.”

“It’s always the beautiful things that suffer the most damage,” he kisses her head giving her a sad look. “I’ve missed you.”

“Lucinda wouldn’t like to hear that.”

“She’s not here.”

“She was with you in Italy.”

“Is that what has you so upset? I had to accompany her for fashion week, my whisky was the premiered drink. You honestly think I wouldn’t have called you over to my hotel room if she weren’t there?”

“Really?” she smiles but it’s more of a grimace. Even her lips hurt.

“Try and relax your face, angel.”

“It’s hard. I’m so happy to be with you. Is that twisted?”

“A little,” he grins, “but that’s part of your charm. You’re a twisted woman.”

She frowns remembering what Gavin had said, she really is a twisted woman.

“Hey, what he said to you wasn’t true. All four of us are guilty of pretending with each other and lying to everyone else.”

“So, you don’t have feelings for Lucinda?”

“I respect her business, she’s great at branding and marketing. She’s a friend, and she asks about you.”

“She knows about me?”

“It’s no surprise they both caught on eventually,” he smiles, “we’ve been doing this for a long time, angel, and always in the first week of May.”

She touches her cheek carefully; her head hurts from all the thoughts coursing through it and from the throbbing pain in her cheek. She’ll call Gavin later to make sure he’s all right and to let him know she’s okay. Maybe the four of them could come up with a plan where they could all be happy.

“Ashton?”

“Hm? Are you hungry? I told Louisa to have breakfast delivered by ten. I figured you’d sleep later.”

“No, I’m not—” she stares at him.

Memories of their past push away the dark parts that have occurred. This situation isn’t fair to any of them. Even this, her staying with him now might be a mistake, it’s all broken in so many ways. Ashton always puts her back together again, much like last night. They’re in a constant minefield waiting for a bomb to go off. Last night was explosive but it wasn’t the nuclear bomb ticking away like the time they share.

She’d walk through a hundred minefields to be close to him.

“Kiss me, please?” her request is so soft he barely hears her.

“What I risk to be close to you,” he sighs with a teasing grin before pressing his lips ever so carefully on hers in a tender kiss, and she smiles in contentment. She doesn’t know how long they have, but any amount of time is worth it. Ashton is worth it.

“I still belong with you.”

Taglist: @calpalirwin @myloverboyash @loveroflrh @cxddlyash @princesslrh @spicylftv @notinthesameguey @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sarcastically-defensive17 @another-lonely-heart @devilatmydoor @thatscooibaby @suchalonelysunflower @dead-and-golden @mymindwide @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @karajaynetoday @quasighost @i-like-5sos @creampiecashton @calpops @littledrummeraussie @sexgodashton @f-mu @mystic-232

#lias #lovers in a song fic #ashton irwin au #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin smut #ashton smut #ashton angst #ashton 5sos writing #ashton 5sos #ashton 5sos fic #5sos fic

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star-spangledstud · 3 years

Text

MIND GAMES - THREE

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The team goes on a mission. You meet someone who might expose you.

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence

Note: Wanna be tagged in future chapters? Shoot me a message :) Sorry for being MIA for so long. I’ve been sad. Blegh.

SERIES MASTERLIST.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER.

Over the few days that follow, you become increasingly paranoid. It’s your own fault, because you shouldn’t have lied to the people that have welcomed you into their homes with open arms, but lying is a survival skill that you were taught many years ago, and old habits die hard. You become shadowy, avoid team members in the hallways and common areas of the penthouse floor you all share, and stay in your room as much as possible without alarming anyone. Of course Natasha knows something is up, but Steve doesn’t, and he waves off her concern as you simply ‘needing more time to adjust, Nat’. You watch their body language during breakfast – one of two meals a day you simply cannot get out of without causing anyone’s alarm bells to start ringing – and engage in light conversation wherever possible to keep them out of your hair.

Guilt gnaws at your insides when you find yourself wandering the deserted wrap-around balcony at nearly 3 a.m., brain searching for a clue to any bad things that might happen. If any one of them figures out you’re ex-hydra you’re done for, that much you know, but the man with golden hair and twinkling azure eyes might just be your ticket to safety.

The thought alone sickens you, because you vowed never to mess with someone’s feelings to get what you need ever again. It’s a twisted thought, but the vines of its root wrap themselves around the stem of your brain nonetheless.

A month after first moving in, you’ve already figured out their routines. Steve’s the early riser of the bunch, getting up every morning at 6:30 a..m. sharp to go on a run around the city. On rare occasions, he manages to convince Sam to come along with him, but more often than not, he remains in his bed until at least 10 o’clock, when Steve’s already come back to shower and get dressed for the day. Tony and Bruce are in the lab 24/7, both of them constantly bickering about artificial intelligence and microbiology among other matters you can’t even begin to understand. As a result, you don’t see them around too often, a notion you don’t particularly mind. Clint left to be with his family two weeks ago and hasn’t been back since, and Natasha leaves all the time, sometimes for days at a time. You don’t dare to ask anyone where she goes when she disappears, but nobody seems surprised to find her seat at the dining table empty again.

It’s a gloomy day when you wake up to find the entire place void of all life. Not even Steve, who’s adamant about his morning coffee, is there to grace you with his presence when you walk into the kitchen that Saturday morning. The counter is clean, no empty coffee cups, half-eaten bowls of oatmeal or bread crumbs to indicate anyone’s eaten yet, and all of the chairs are still perfectly lined against the table.

Your pulse involuntarily quickens to an uncomfortable pace, and you bite the inside of your cheek until the metallic taste of blood is heavy on your tongue. With quick steps, you walk towards the common room, footsteps loud in your ears when you consider where they might be. As expected, there’s nobody there. The TV is switched off, there are no dents in the heavy fabric of the couch from where Steve usually sits, and again, no empty cups or bowls can be found on the coffee table. You have the jitters when you finally get to the library, which is again void of all life.

Black socks covered in small holes squeak across the wooden floors when you walk around the room. It’s not surprising to see the library vacant. You’re sure Avengers have more pressing matters to tend to than reading books on any given day, but it was your last hope nonetheless. With your head tilted to the side, you focus on scanning the titles that line the walls. You follow every shelf in the room until your eye finally catches something. You take the book with a sigh, flip through its tattered pages, and wonder for a moment which one of the Avengers has read the crap out of Pride and Prejudice. Definitely not Sam, judging by his internal monologue. That guy doesn’t appear to have an ounce of romanticism inside him.

“They’re out,” a gentle voice suddenly says behind you, “Steve didn’t want to wake you up this morning to tell you.”

You slap your hand over your heart in surprise, and inhale sharply, “Jesus Christ, doc. You scared the hell out of me.”

Bruce throws his hands up in the air and shrugs his shoulders, “Sorry, it’s just me.”

“Are they on a mission?” you ask, feeling your heart jump in your chest like a skippy ball.

“Yeah, they should be back in a few days. Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You swallow thickly, noticing all of a sudden how your mouth is dry like sandpaper, “you just spooked me, that’s all. What kind of mission is it?”

“Intel gathering, in an out. That’s why I didn’t come. They only bring me when they need the green guy,” he says.

“Oh yeah,” you reply slowly, “how’s he holding up?”

“Asleep,” Bruce smiles, then clears his throat, “for now, anyway. Would you like to get some breakfast?”

You follow Bruce through the rain, which started to gust from the grey sky just as you were getting dressed. You’d rather have said no, but you knew you couldn’t; it wouldn’t be polite to decline his offer. Besides, he’s oblivious, and for whatever reason, he trusts you. When he bites into his chocolate croissant, you know why – Steve’s let you in. This notion once more confirms the thoughts that have been occupying your mind for the last week; Steve is your one-way ticket to inclusivity.

You shudder at the thought and fake a smile before taking a large sip of coffee. The cafe is small, mostly empty, and your seat by the window gives you a perfect view of pedestrians struggling in the howling, icy wind. One year ago, you could never have imagined yourself sitting in a café with a cup of coffee clutched between your fingers, chatting with someone who you could potentially call a friend. The idea alone of being able to enjoy a warm mug filled with freshly brewed coffee would’ve sounded preposterous to you.

There was no warmth with HYDRA. Only cold.

It takes the team three days to return from their mission. Three long days, during which you spend most of your time with Bruce in his lab, perched on a desk-chair with a book in your hands while he works on – actually, you have no idea what he’s working on. You quickly grow to become fond of him, because he doesn’t feel the need to constantly fill the silence between you with empty words. His thoughts are coherent, focused on his project, and the lingo is too advanced for you to understand, which makes it easy to drown out. His inner monologue is quiet, except for a few angry words from the Hulk when Bruce becomes frustrated with his work, but that only happened on day two, and only for ten minutes.

Steve smells like gun powder and sweat when he hugs you softly against his chest after exiting the Quinjet. Natasha waves at you, and the smile that dons her dirt-caked face surprises you, but you return it nonetheless. Sam even ruffles your hair, causes a sound to escape your throat that you haven’t heard yourself make in over a decade; a strange combination of a snort and a chuckle that sounds like music to your own ears. Your heart pounds again, but in a good way this time, because for a small moment in time, you’ve managed to put the guilt on the back-burner. The roaring engine behind you falls silent at last, and nobody else visibly exits the plane before you make it inside.

“You held up okay?” Steve asks as he follows you back inside the building.

You nod in response and shove your hands deep inside the pockets of your hoodie, “I’ve been helping Bruce with his research.”

“Oh, did you? How’s it coming?” he asks.

His eyes sparkle like two tiny stars even through the exhaustion that nearly forces them shut every time he blinks. He’s exhausted, you can tell, and you have to bite your tongue before you make a comment about the state he’s in.

“I mostly sat there while he did all the thinking. Turns out computer science isn’t really my thing after all.”

Steve fights a yawn that threatens to overcome him, and nods, “yeah, I feel you. I can barely get the damn things to start. I’ve given up on technology.”

He turns back to face you when he’s come to a halt in front of his room.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you where I went,” he tells you, meaning it as he says it, “we kinda left in a hurry, and you were still sleeping.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reply, “I understand.”

He quickly retreats after that, leaving you once again with nothing to do. You go back to your room to grab the worn copy of Pride and Prejudice from your nightstand and, after plopping down on your bed, flip to the page where you last left off. You read for a while, before the idea to make some tea with warm milk and honey pops into your head, and you skip along the hallway to the kitchen with the book securely wrapped in your arms.

You’re surprised to hear Steve’s voice when you enter the common area, and a smile appears on his face the second his eyes fall on you. You raise one arm to wave at him, but a loud gasp and a large thud followed by the sound of breaking glass have you freezing on the spot before you can open your mouth to greet him at all.

Your head snaps towards the source of the sound, causing your neck to twist and crack painfully. Red, glowing eyes meet your large ones when you dare to look up at whoever made the noise, and the book in your hands falls to the ground with a loud bang that startles everyone in the room. You stumble backwards when you can feel the woman standing before you deep inside of your head, and you nearly trip over the rug when you instinctly try to get away from her. Frantically, you scramble to stop her from seeing more than she’s already seen. Still, by the time you manage to build up a mental barrier to keep her out of your head, it’s already too late.

You haven’t seen her before, and you can’t remember for the life of you if the image of her has popped up in any of the Avengers’ heads. Your brain is mushy, images hazy as you try to focus on keeping the woman from digging around deeper. You can see distant memories of your time with HYDRA flash before her eyes, and the images blur with the present in a spasm that makes your eyes water.

Wanda Maximoff lets out a shrill, piercing shriek, one that chills everyone to the bone. Thor, who you didn’t even know was there, is by her side before she can collapse onto the cold, hard floor, and Steve jumps up from his chair before you have time to register his movements. He grabs your arm and drags you out of the kitchen, fingers digging painfully in your tender flesh when he pulls you away from the scene. Sympathy fills Sam’s dark brown eyes when you turn back around to look at him, and guilt roils in your stomach when the redhead sinks to her knees with tears streaming down her face.

Your arms hang limply to your side when you watch Steve pace back and forth around his room. You’re waiting for him to yell at you, to tell you to get the fuck out of the compound and never return, but he remains awfully quiet. His silence confuses and unnerves you simultaneously.

His eyes, swimming with unimaginable depth, find your face while the scent of his cologne and pure testosterone invades your nostrils. Pressure clamps down on your chest, and the intensity of his gaze causes you to shiver. Never in your entire life have you wanted to read someone’s mind more.

“Are you alright?” your head cocks to the side, mouth twitching while you try to find words.

You nearly gave that woman an aneurysm, and he’s asking you if you’re okay?

“Yes,” you stammer, “I’m so sorry.”

“Wanda is telepathic,” Steve says, “she has trouble controlling what she sees sometimes.”

“Like I said, I’m so so-”

A soft exhale leaves your lips when Steve’s hands find their way to your shoulders, and your voice dies down in your throat when he bends down slightly to meet your eyes. Calloused fingertips penetrate the thin material of your t-shirt, and the warmth of his hands creates a buzzing sensation just beneath your skin.

“She was in Europe, scouting the location of the mission with Rhodey. She’s been in Eastern Europe for a while, that’s why you haven’t seen her. I should’ve told you about her.”

“Will she be okay?” you ask. You hardly recognize your own voice.

“Sam’s got her. She’s stronger than she looks. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good.”

You don’t know how to respond. You crave a cigarette all of a sudden, even though you don’t smoke. Alcohol then, maybe, to numb down the prickling sensation of firing synapses and goosebumps that line your bare arms. Yeah, a good couple of shots of whiskey will do the trick. Not vodka though, you hate that stuff.

You bite your bow-shaped lips and inhale deeply. Steve is so close that you can feel his breath fanning across your face. It’s wrong, being so near him after what just happened. You’re on thin ice. It won’t be long before the entire team, undoubtedly informed by what Wanda just saw, comes barging into Steve’s room, ready to drag you away to prison or worse, put a bullet through your skull. You deserve it, you think, for what you used to do. For who you used to be. You almost want somebody to call you out on your shit, because then at least you wouldn’t have to hide it anymore.

But seconds turn into minutes, and nobody comes. It’s quiet, except for the sound of Steve’s breathing and the steady beating of his heart, and you realize when he looks at you with sympathy and sincerity that you hate yourself for lying. It’s an ironic realization, because lying is like second nature to you. HYDRA spent so much time ingraining it into your brain that it’s become almost like a second language, a means of communication that flows so naturally that you don’t even have an accent anymore. It’s brought you many things, and ruined even more people.

Your hands are going numb from how hard you’re clenching them into fists. Steve’s thumbs are rubbing small circles on your shoulders, and it takes all of your effort not to shake them off. You’re disgusted with yourself, bile threatening to rise to the back of your throat while the sensation of his warm fingers on you is the only thing left for you to feel. The world is dark and cold, but the heat radiating from Steve’s hands is just enough to stop you from getting frostbite. The concern is evident on his face, from the deep crease between his brows to the thin line of his lips; he’s worried about you, someone he doesn’t even know. Someone he would kill if he’d met you under any other circumstances.

You want to go home, you think to yourself, but as soon as the thought appears do you smack it down with your fist. You don’t have a home, you scold yourself, just like the doctors would tell you when you cried and screamed on the dingey operating table in the early days, when they didn’t control you yet. When they still wore their special masks to stop you from controlling their minds so they could freely fuck with yours.

It’s an icy reality, one that rattles you to your core every time it makes an appearance. Steve’s eyes are still scanning your face, which is twisted and contorted into a painful scowl before you even realize what’s happening.

An inexplicable panic washes over you, heart jackhammering in your chest while your cheeks turn a sickly shade of pink. A bead of sweat rolls down your back, followed by cold shivers that envelop your skin in ice. The scent of laundry detergent and cologne hits you like a truck, and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from gagging.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice melting and morphing into the sound of rain slamming against the window like gunfire.

“My head,” you cry out in a desperate whimper, “it hurts.”

Steve forces your body down onto his bed, and while you begin to writhe in pain that causes white spots to dance in front of your eyes, he closes the curtains to keep the light from coming in. His mother had head aches all the time, and she’d be in bed for days on end if they got bad enough. He remembers her clear as day, lying in bed with an empty bucket next to her on the floor in the dark, because the light hurt so bad it would make her vomit sometimes. He’d tiptoe around the house because the sound of his feet creaking across the floorboards would pain her. He recognizes her in you, lying on his bed with your hands clutching the sides of your head.

“I’ll get you some aspirin,” he says, quieting his voice, the incident with Wanda long forgotten as instinct takes over.

Tears blur your vision at this point, and it takes every ounce of focus that you have left to keep yourself from screaming out in pain. Aspirin won’t help, but you don’t possess the capability to tell him not to bother. You’ve experienced this type of pain before, and have endured it without medicine each time. Many times actually; while you were forced to extract information from the people taken and captured by HYDRA with whatever means necessary. This time however, it’s come as a surprise and it’s caught you completely off-guard, although you suspect Wanda’s poking and prodding has something to do with it.

With all the strength you have left, you manage to pull the covers over your head, engulfing yourself in darkness and warmth to drown out your senses. The sudden darkness is disorienting, but you welcome it with open arms. Steve opens his mouth, but shuts it, and heads for the door without uttering another word.

All you hear when Steve exits the room is the sound of your former victims crying out in despair.

NEXT CHAPTER.

TAGLIST:

@foxyjwls007 @littlegasps @hurricane-abigail @idk123906 @ bubblicious-trashcan @wooya1224

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belovasangel · 4 years

Text

Come Back to Me

Summary: Shawn missing big events leaves to beautiful memories and Christmas miracles

Pairing: Shawn x fem!Nurse!Reader

Warnings: swearing, light angst, fluff, flashback heavy, holiday feelings

A/N: Yup. Surprise. Also flashbacks are in italics, per usual. Also I am not Canadian so I don’t know if y’all celebrate Remembrance Day. For the sake of this story, pretend that it’s the equivalent to Thanksgiving.

Shawn took your hand as you barreled down the sidewalk, laughs flying past you in the wind. Tonight had been a perfect date, something great to wrap the summer up, full of time alone with your favorite guy (and your favorite wine). He had been planning this for weeks now, and you can even remember him talking about this back in June when his tour had been announced. The pandemic put a damper on your two’s plans since March, but once the numbers started decreasing did he get calls from managers, and then... there was another world tour. You weren’t mad, music was his passion. Even though you two would be wrapped in each other’s arms after a lovely night, you could tell behind his eyes he longed to play the guitar for different cities.

That’s why tonight was so important, because he started packing and planning, then he would leave on Wednesday for Prague. And of course, your job needed you in Toronto. While Canada hasn’t experienced any significantly alarming numbers, there were still cases rolling in. You insisted that Shawn goes on tour, so much that you had to pay for his first ticket yourself (he payed you back, though. He insisted).

Shawn skidded to a stop, turning around and putting his hands on your shoulders. “Now promise me you’re gonna close your eyes, just for a few seconds.”

You huffed and shrugged your shoulders, “Shawn I’m out of breathe, you made me run in heels for about half a mile... Give me 5 minutes instead.” With a quick chuckle, he pecked your lips and turned you around. You heard his shuffling from those black boots he wears to rubble, then decided to look around. He somehow managed to find a quaint park, with a nice bubbling fountain and family’s scattered around. Dogs were running a lit in the distance, and the bustle of the city wasn’t nearly as booming as it usually is. This was nice.

“Okay, turn around.”

With a giggle, you turned around to see Shawn on one knee. Behind him was a tree strung with lights that were glowing, and underneath the tree was champagne and a radio playing your two’s song, Turning the Page (Yeah, we know it’s from Twilight, but that doesn’t stop it from being any less romantic). He was kneeled on a red and white picnic blanket, the typical one you’d see in catalogues for fall. On the blanket were rose petals scattered.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you have changed my life for the better. The moment you saw me in the E.R., and had to take care of my broken hand, I knew you were just as kind and gentle as you looked. Once you let me in, and take you on that shitty first date, I got to see the real you. The you that cries during every Disney movie, the you that would bring me breakfast in bed when I had a rough day, the you that would rescue a damn pigeon off the street because it looked sad. You are the most sincere, selfless, and intelligent woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I don’t want ever want to stop or slow down. You have become my life and my rock, I’m completely lost without you. I am utterly in love with you, (Y/N). I want us to have a family, I want to make an album for you, and everything in between. Will you please marry me?”

You shuddered awake, looking quickly at your blaring alarm from the end table. Picking it up and turning it off, the time read 4:25 A.M., signaling it was time to get ready for work. You got up, and went to open the blinds to your bedroom, watching the snow fall steadily. Slipping on your socks and bathrobe, you shuffled to the kitchen to get a cup of tea brewing before you hit the shower.

Mornings like this weren’t incredibly tough anymore, once Shawn was gone on tour. He face-timed you once a week because of tour, sent you letters and packages from your favorite cities, and even had roses delivered on your birthday. And of course, he always said, “Lemme see it. I wanna see you wear that pretty ring. There it is, there she is, soon-to-be Mrs. Mendes.”

Slipping in the hot shower, you played some of his songs, some of your regular playlists, and when you were throwing on your outfit, your two’s song. You missed Shawn. He had missed your two’s favorite holiday, Halloween, where you two always did the cheesy couple costumes. He missed your birthday, but he sent his family in place. He missed Remembrance Day, because in Europe that wasn’t a thing. And tomorrow is Christmas, where he has no sign of coming home whatsoever. That’s fine, though, because you took the long shift at the hospital.

When the song came to an end, you threw on your coat and snow boots, grabbing all the food and equipment you would need for a 12-hour and began to head out. Shawn sent you his daily vlog and you watched that on the shuttle. Once that was over, you got to the hospital where you would forget about your slightly more aching heart. After work, the routine would basically go in reverse. Commute home, get back into your pajama’s, drink some tea, get dinner, and go to bed, where you would have a restless night in an empty bed.

“When do you think we should have the wedding?”

Shawn looked over, a piece of popcorn hanging onto his lip like a lifeline. His cheeks were flushed and he still looked a little sweaty from the show he just played at TD Garden. He knew you were doing the planning to keep yourself from descending into madness (well, not entirely, but you only brought it up when you really missed him). “I think we should do a summer/fall sort of wedding, like when the leaves are red but it isn’t freezing by 5, ya know?”

You hummed in agreement, a smile picking at the corners of your mouth. “I completely agree. Do you want it to be outdoors then, because of the leaves?”

Shawn took another few things of popcorn from the bag and popped them into his swollen lips, he always licked them when he was frustrated by how a show went, or just when his mind was reeling. “I think we should get married outdoors, and then have the reception indoors. Kind of like-”

“Twilight...”

You both looked at the screen and snorted, sending both of you into fits of hysteria. “Shawn, we really base our relationship off of those books, didn’t we?” He looked over, licking his lips once again. “Explain, babe. I get a little bit, but our whole relationship?”

You shuffled in the bed a little bit, “Hear me out, Shawn-y boy. We met when you were hurt and I had to save you, or more-so your career. Edward saved Bella from the car, right? Right. So, there’s that. Then that girl who you worked on the album with tried to get you on the few dates, but that was long after we were official. Boom, Jacob plot line. Then you leave me for your first tour, which I get 100%, so don’t be upset over that. But the girl you worked with saw you kind of sad and made it her mission to befriend you and then attempt to change your mind over me... And our song is the one from their wedding, and we want an outdoors-y wedding.....”

Shawn looked at the screen, then back to the popcorn leaking butter in his hands. “Damn. So you’re saying that I’m Bella?” You began to shake your head, cheeks turning red. “Maybe I meant that wrong, but-”

“No, no you’re saying I’m Bella. Does that mean I get to wear the dress? I cannot wait to get married with no emotions and then have the ugliest CGI baby in the history of cinematics. Aren’t you so excited for that, my love?”

“Absolutely thrilled.”

The alarm on your phone blared once again, pulling you from Shawn. You picked up the phone, getting a few “Merry Christmas” texts from family and friends. You assumed Shawn was out partying with his crew mates, plus it must’ve been a busy day altogether. Turning off the alarm and standing, you pulled on the slippers and followed your routine again.

Once it got to 6:07, and still no text from Shawn, you decided to call him. Immediately, you were sent to voicemail. With a sigh, you waited for voicemail.

“Hey bubs, Merry Christmas! I miss you more than ever, it’s snowing here pretty rough. I know you’d probably go outside right about now and insist to make a snowman or some angels, so that might be a mission for me after work. Um, I wanted to let you know that I love you so much, and I hope you’re having fun on tour... The apartment isn’t the same without you here, especially around this time. You’re probably having fun with your friends and I don’t wanna intrude on that, so I’ll hang up. I love you Shawn, be careful. Stay safe, come back to me soon. Bye.”

Wiping the tear that fell down your cheek, you stepped outside your apartment, hopped into the elevator and began the commute to your shift. You got to work on record time, beginning your patient rounds and vitals, then celebrating with the coworkers. Working 6:30 AM-9:30 PM would be a tough one, but whatever to keep you under that roof. Plus, double-time because of the holiday.

Once it hit 9:30, you booked it out of the hospital and onto the shuttle. Your eyes were barely open as you saw the texts from Shawn.

(Shawn) 7:59 AM: Hey babe, I’m so sorry I didn’t answer your call! I can’t wait to see your face tonight, you still up for FaceTime?

(Shawn) 9:26 AM: I bet you’re busy, but I’m gonna be in a few conferences and doing press so I won’t be able to talk for a while. Love you!

(Shawn) 3:14 PM: (Y/N) I don’t think we can FaceTime tonight, I have to do something for a fan and it’s really important. I am so sorry.

(Shawn) 8:44 PM: Are you mad at me or are you still working?

(Shawn) 9:32 PM: Something is waiting for you at home, it’s your gift. I hope this can make up for the call!

You hopped out of the shuttle, heart feeling extra heavy as you walked into the apartment. The string lights and streamers along the walls were taunting you as the elevator brought you to your floor, and you tried to compose yourself until you would get inside. Stepping up to your door, you looked for the present, to no avail.

(Y/N) 9:45 PM: Shawn I don’t see a package

(Shawn) 9:45 PM: Mom must’ve brought it inside, I’m sure it’s there.

With a huff, you shoved the key into the door, and walked inside. Chucking your purse and coat onto the hooks, while flinging off your shoes, you composed yourself enough to look for the package. If he got it express-shipped it had to be good. Checking the kitchen was no luck, and the living room looked normal.

(Shawn) 9:48 PM: Bedroom, babe

With a gasp, you quickly buzzed to the bedroom, and laid your hand on the door. You stopped, hesitant to what was behind the door. What if it isn’t him? Taking a deep breath, you dismissed the negative thought and opened.

The room was filled with lit tea lights, rose petals on the bed and the floor, and Shawn. He was standing there in that chunky-white knit sweater you loved, with flushed cheeks and watery eyes, holding a bouquet of flowers, and your favorite song playing softly in the background.

You gasped, running into his arms with a squeal and sob, him mimicking the sound. He held onto the small of your back, and one hand on the back of your neck, and you felt his tears falling onto your skin. “I missed you so much, (Y/N). You don’t even know.” He pulled back slightly pressing his lips to yours in a soft embrace.

After a minute of kissing, you pulled back. “Merry Christmas, Shawn.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

#shawn #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #imagine #love #christmas #lumineshawn

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gh0stlyink · 3 years

Text

[WIP Wednesday]

Tagged by @little-lightning-lavellan a REALLY long time ago 😅 and I am finally getting around to do it. Not going to lie, this had everything to do with forgetting when Wednesday was so... The taglist will be under the cut 🖤 Thank you again, @little-lightning-lavellan for tagging me 🥰

This right here is a snippet of Emotional Support Android which is my Detroit: Become Human fanfiction! I have to admit I haven't worked on it in a while but I will always go back to it.

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She woke up with a start. Her CyberPad was ringing loudly. That meant it was Amanda. She was the only one that had that notification sound set. Glancing at the clock (7:31 a.m.) she groaned for a moment before grabbing the Pad and accepting the call. Salem wasn't worried about looking her best in front of Amanda. Amanda has seen Salem at her worst.

"You answered quicker this time," Amanda gave the smallest of smirks.

Salem did some calculations. "I was able through a whole sleep cycle before you called. Perfect timing."

"Good. Get ready. You don't have to do much, You'll be going back to your room one more time before leaving. I just want to give you the details. See you in five." The call ended sharply.

Salem placed the Pad next to her on her pillow and rolled over to her stomach. She had grown so used to this place, she didn't know if she was ready to leave. She supposed this was the next big step, but she didn't know what was going to happen. This unsettled her even more, but she remembered she only had five minutes, less now, and she needed to get ready. Turning to her side and throwing her legs over the side of her bed, she stood up. Making a quick stretch with her arms, she walked over to her dressed.

In a minute and a half, Salem managed to change into some black sweatpants and a black hoodie. She had combed her black hair through her fingers and put it in a messy bun on the top of her head.

The way to the office was short, there was an elevator down the hall from her room. Once on the top floor, she made her way to the end of the hall. There was a small lobby and an Android intern desk. The Android looked up, presenting female.

“Amanda is expecting you,” she said, her arm gesturing towards the gold-plated doors.

Salem nodded with a small smile and entered the office. It was big. There were tall windows that looked out on the city. Amanda was looking out of them.

“Glad you’re here,” she didn’t look away from the windows. “This will be very important, so listen carefully.” Finally, Amanda looked away and at Salem, who only nodded in response. Amanda had gotten used to her quiet nature. “Take a seat there, please. There is coffee, just the way you like it. I know you will need some assistance to wake up fully, and I need you at your best.”

Salem walked obediently to the chair Amanda had pointed to. Sitting down, she gingerly took the cup and took a sip. It really was just the way she liked it.

“I know you don’t watch the news much,” Amanda started. “You get stressed out too easily, and you already have to focus so much of your energy on working on your brilliant designs.”

Salem took another sip of the coffee before setting it down and giving Amanda all of her attention.

“There are Androids going Deviant.”

“What?” Salem spurted. “What?”

“I understand this may be upsetting to you, especially knowing that these are your modifications and upgrades that have helped the growth of Android technology. I do not blame you, do not worry.”

Relief spread through Salem's spine.

“However, we need to stop this. Androids are beginning to display human-like emotions. This is a direct link to their software instability. I need you to help me find out exactly why this is happening.

Salem was speechless, and not by choice this time. She had no idea this was happening, and Amanda was right. It stressed her out. It made her feel like all of her hard work was for nothing. Not to mention, it confused her to no end. How was this happening? Androids showing emotions? The only thing close to that she had programmed was emulating human emotions, but that didn’t mean they were feeling them.

“Salem?” Amanda had ripped her from her thoughts. “I need you to focus.”

Salem nodded vehemently, her eyes clearing. “Of-of course.”

“You will be going to Detroit. We have a small safe house set up for you. You’ll be working with Lieutenant Anderson of the DPD, as well as an Android.”

“Will it be one of my designs?” Salem couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“No. It's from another. Your designs were mostly made for more wholesome needs. This was made by Special Force designers.”

Salem understood. She supposed this was the best way to go about things. Amanda was right. Her designs were generally used as maids, nannies, and caretakers.

“This Android is not only going to be there to detect and interrogate Deviants. It will be staying with you at the safe house. It's there to keep you safe...stable.”

Salem looked down for a moment. She knew what Amanda meant by “stable”. Salem used to have severe panic attacks. They have died down over the years, due to falling into a routine of sorts. She wasn’t really a fan of change, and this was a big change.

Amanda looked the girl over, then waved her hand over a tablet. “Tell Jade to send in the Android.”

Within a minute, the doors to Amanda’s office opened. A male modeled Android walked in, wearing a Cyberlife suit. One Salem had never seen before, even in the records sent to all Designers every week. This model was brand spanking new. RKX00. Yep, definitely never heard of that model before.

“This is Connor,” Amanda said, rising from her seat and walking over to the Android. He had stopped just a few feet away from Salem’s seat. She put her hand on his shoulder. “Model RK800. Like is said, he will keep you safe. Among other things.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Everly. Have no worries, I will be by your side,” Connor said, offering her a robot-like smile. The emotion code could have been written better, but he seemed nice enough. Salem never really minded Androids, it was humans she was wary about.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Salem said softly.

“Go to your room and pack your things. We hope you won't be there long, but we don’t have nearly as enough information as we’d like, so we don’t know how long it will be. Take what you think you’ll need,” Amanda made her way back to the windows. “Don’t bother bringing any of your designs. We want you to focus on the task at hand.”

Salem was still looking over Connor before she looked back to Amanda. “I understand.”

“Good. You can go now.”

---

Connor had followed Salem to her room. Upon entering Salem sat down at her desk to take a brief breather.

“Our train leaves in forty minutes, and it takes about twenty minutes to get to the train station,” Connor informed her, as he looked around her room. Probably to learn things about her.

“Thank you,” she told him, rubbing at her temples.

The Android blinked a few times at her. “You have not eaten or drunk anything today,” he stated. “You should at least have some water.”

“Yeah...maybe,” Salem stood up and entered her bedroom. Connor had followed, almost immediately walking into the restroom. Salem went into her small closet and got out the biggest bag she had, which was a duffel bag. She also had two backpacks, which would come in handy.

Salem made her bed before she placed the bags on top. She didn’t want to have a cluttered space to distract her. She began taking clothes from her dresser, the most comfortable ones, but she added some nicer clothes, as well. Those came generally from her closet, however. As she was folding the clothes she had thrown on her bed, Connor exited from the restroom.

“Hey, you should drink this,” Connor urged, holding out a crisp glass of water.

Salem looked at the glass, then back up into Connor’s eyes. “You didn’t have to…”

“I am here to keep you safe and stable. Keeping your hydration at optimal levels is a part of that.”

Salem looked at the glass of water for a moment more before putting down the article of clothing she was folding and taking it from the Android. “Thank you.”

“It is why I am here,” Connor said, giving her one definitive nod.

Salem smiled softly. “I still appreciate it.”

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Tagging: @akindofmagictoo | @sleepysera | @suchitasenthilkumar (no pressure, of course) and Anyone else who wants to! ＼(ﾟｰﾟ＼) Feel free to say I tagged you🖤

#qh0stly games #wip wednesday #if i am tagged in stuff i will simply just do it #if you dont wanna be tagged sent me a dm or ask !#if you do want to be tagged send ask dm or reply !#writeblr #e. emotional support android

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