#ive had the same one pair of glasses for the last like at LEAST 5 years | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shotorozu · 4 years ago

Text

TITLE : hospital stay

PAIRING : bakugou katsuki x reader

SYNOPSIS : you’re in the hospital on your boyfriend’s birthday, and bakugou seems to have no issue with spending it in there.

WARNING(S) : MHA MANGA SPOILERS ‼️ (recent arc)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, a quirk similar to the avatar but that’s about it.

note(s) : so, it’s bakugou’s birthday. and i had this idea since march 20 😦 so i’ve been waiting for his birthday to come for literally a month but i didn’t want to post this way too early. alsooo i don’t know if this arc happened near spring but lets pretend it did for the sake of the story

When you woke up, the fluorescent lights were the first to hit your face

Following by the incoming beeping of a monitor, and the sudden throbbing of your head, the dryness of your throat evident.

Blinking slowly (or trying to, your other eye being a bit delayed.) you try recalling what just happened. You’re in a hospital, that’s one thing you know, but the specifics are still unknown to you.

Right. You remember now, you were fighting along side your classmates, and you managed to get blasted away when you thought that shielding Bakugou Katsuki would work. Yeah, you were sure that you were going to get an earful from him, if he—

You jolt when you notice said blond standing right next to your bed, vermillion eyes staring deep into your own, and somewhat— you could feel the weight and intensity in the stare

“S-since when did you get here?” You’re startled, and your voice is hoarse. Bakugou doesn’t formulate a response, and chooses to avoid the question as a whole.

“Finally you’re up.” He rolls his eyes. He looks much better than you remembered, despite having a few bandages on his forehead— he looked well. “It’s been 5 fucking days.”

“Five days?” You question out loud, your sense of time all disorganized. You clench your hand, just to see if your quirk was still working. Seeing air, fire, water, and just.. something, would relieve your worries— but a look from the blond shot you down quickly. You decided that it was wise if you didn’t try.

The blond seems to be done with the conversation, since he immediately walks out of the room. Actually, why was he here? You’d expect him to be laying down in bed, but despite being hit with that beam, he was walking around like everything was fine.

He comes back with a few other nurses, and they’re relieved to see that you’re awake— and even though they’ve bombarded you with questions with how you felt, you couldn’t brush off the feeling of a pair of ruby eyes on you.

Just, glaring. It’s nothing abnormal.

When the nurses finally leave you alone, giving you details of a few injuries— like your injured— well, burned eyelid that honestly stung (it came from the fire aspect of your quirk) you would’ve expected to be alone in your hospital room for the rest of your time there but Bakugou stayed.

“You’re going to tell me why you jumped in front of me?”

You were expecting to be questioned by him, after all— what you did didn’t exactly shield him, since he was also pierced. You didn’t expect the interrogation to be happening this soon

“Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to fucking know.” And he suddenly changes his mind, just like that.

You would’ve said impulse as an answer, but you doubt that he would’ve taken that seriously. And besides, you were kind of glad he changed midway that he didn’t want your answer. Your voice feels parched, despite chugging down a glass of water earlier.

“Did you check up on Deku?” You cringe when you hear cracks in your voice, and the dryness is unbearable to your throat, but he nods. “Idiot’s knocked out cold.”

He doesn’t mention the fact that you were one of the last few people that were still rendered unconscious.

“Your throat sounds like the sahara desert. Do me a favor and drink up.”

You blink owlishly at the glass of water that was set on the mini table, and when you drink up— it actually does something to relieve (temporarily) the dryness.

It was a consequence of your quirk after all, using your quirk too much would cause your body to feel sore, and everywhere to feel dry, and he knew that.

Bakugou was acting uncharacteristically, and you just don’t know why. Maybe it’s not so uncharacteristic of him, since he’s been less of an asshole as of recently, but you know that he would probably deviate from the question if you asked, so the both of you sat in silence.

—

It’s the next day, the same as yesterday— except it looked like dawn when you woke up. Bakugou also appeared at the side of your bed once again, almost as if he was there for quite some time.

“Nice to see you too,” You think to yourself, and you’re glad you didn’t actually say that out loud. You try to stand up straight, but Bakugou’s quick to push your back against the pillows.

“Don’t sit up, that’s idiotic.”

“Right, sorry. How did you get here? Isn’t it too early?” The parched throat came back. Though the ‘magical’ baku-water helped, it’s effects were only temporarily, sadly.

“You call 7am early?” Right, because for him— 7am isn’t that early, you even remember seeing him up at 6 sometimes.

“Actually, wait.” You blink, trying to recall what day it was, and what month it was. You recalled it being spring but.. was it March? or was it April already?

“What.. day is it today?”

It was almost like he was hesitant to say, “..April 20.”

“What the— April 20?” You’re appalled, because the last time you remembered, it wasn’t anywhere near April 20, but maybe it’s your 5 day unconsciousness to be blamed. “Isn’t it your birthday?”

“Shut up,” He mumbles, and he shifts around the room in search of something, but it’s too dim to be able to tell.

“Medicine. The nurses said you should take it now.”

You don’t reply.

“It’s for your Sahara desert throat. The other things are for your fucked up eye and injuries.”

That seems to be enough to convince you to take the medicine, and despite wanting to run away screaming from the bitterness, you take the medicine— not wanting to be met with any consequences

“Why are you spending your birthday here?”

“Do idiots like you ask that many questions?” He shoots back, and you’re unfazed by the fact that he just called you an idiot. You wouldn’t blame him.

“No but.. you seem fine.”

“A few days ago I was not, but now I am because I took medicine.” He walks over to untwist a few medicine caps, it appears to be for your eye.

“So, Does my eye look fine?” You bat your eyelashes just to mess with him, and he flicks your forehead with an ointment cap “No.”

“Sorry, sorry,” You laugh, choosing to completely ignore the sudden sharp pain when you laugh.

He bends down to reach eyelevel, “Can you see?”

“Sorta.” Your eye has this thin blur filter to it, that can’t be good— can it? Going blind in one eye, and having to wear an eye patch.

It was almost on cue, because Bakugou says “You’ll be rocking the pirate look if you don’t take your medicine,” Instead of handing the medicine for you to apply, he quickly applies a decent amount around your eyes— not giving you a warning whatsoever.

You wince slightly, but you’re glad it’s over. But why is he playing nurse with you? And why was he brushing off the fact that it’s literally his birthday.

—

Through out the entire day, Bakugou continued to act as if he had some responsibility over you. From helping you put on your medicine, to just monitoring you with eyes of a hawk. The fact that he chose to ignore all your protests was just a part of him.

His behavior was also very.. interesting. It would swing from being his usual self, to being this eerily quiet and calm Bakugou. You would’ve guessed that you were having a fever dream, if it weren’t for the fact that he wore his usual scowl on his face.

What remained consistent, despite it all— was that he stayed. He ate lunch in your room. He only left when the doctors and nurses asked him too, but that was only temporary. He stayed with you the entire day, even when the clock stroke 5pm.

But it’s quite literally his birthday? Why would he spend it in a hospital room with some extra? Or idiot? Let alone, why would he take care of said idiot/extra on his birthday? You don’t know because he refuses to tell you on why he spent it here.

“Did you at least get some cake or something?” You ask for the umpteenth time, Bakugou’s paced back and forth for some medicine bottles and bottles of water, and you could tell that he was scowling, despite the fact that he was facing the other direction, “Why the hell would I want cake? You’ve been asking weird shit all day.”

“Because it’s your birthday? Seriously— have you been brainwashed into thinking that it’s not your birthday?”

“What— fuck no. I haven’t been brainwashed.” He turns over to you, “I know today is my birthday.”

“Okay, so you know. Why aren’t you celebrating then? Did people forget? Or am I finally going insane?”

Bakugou chooses to stay silent. He stands up, and walks over to you— everytime he moves closer, you could feel your heart pound, luckily not at a dangerous rate.

“Birthday, birthday, birthday” He grumbles, quiet, but loud enough for you to hear. “That’s all you’ve been talking about. As if like you weren’t the one in the hospital bed as we speak.��

“Okay, is it wrong to remember your birthday?”

“Shut up, I didn’t say that.” He gets closer once again, almost to the point that your faces weren’t that far away.

“You’ve just been so concerned about my damn birthday, that you haven’t even taken a good look at yourself,” He gestures at you, by looking you up and down

You finally take observation of all of the gauzes, the IV tubes, and bandages, his words forcing you to look at what was reality.

“I don’t know why you did what you did, jumping in front of me like some kind of heroic bastard, it’s dumb. For all I know, I should be screaming at you, and wishing you the worst for that.” He clenches his fist when he recalls, the scene replaying in his head

“But what I am saying is that, you can give me a gift if you’re so fucking concerned about my birthday. It’s the least you can do.” His statement is solid enough for you to take him seriously. You wouldn’t have if he was scowling, but it’s quite.. different. An expression you’ve seen all day, but seeing it up close is a different story.

“And that would be..?” You gulp, anticipation bubbles

And just like that, he presses his lips against yours, the warmth of his lips sending shocks of warmth all around your body— the impact was abrupt, but the kiss as a whole was surprisingly gentle

Yet, it was also similar to his quirk, it sparked up spurs of need and sent goosebumps all over your body.

You place a hand on his shoulder, the tubes around your arms making it too difficult to wrap your arms around him as you deepened the kiss, Bakugou’s touch is cautious when he lays his hand on a spot that was the least affected, aware of your injuries. Pushing the small of your back with his hand quite gently, he kisses you like it’ll be the very last— even though you both know it won’t be.

When you both pull back, you’re taken aback— unable to think of coherent words, and a proper response.

But this damn bastard, he smirks at you knowing that he just sent shocks and explosions of intense feelings all around your body, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Wait, that’s unfair!”

“What?”

“I had no idea you even liked me!”

“For the fucking longest time I did, why the hell would I even be in some extras room, if I didn’t care about them?!” He tries not to yell too loudly but, the tone of his voice gets raised

You blink, “And you preferred playing nurse with your crush this entire time, instead of spending it properly like well.. everyone else?”

“Who the hell said— Fucking hell, do I have to kiss you again for you to understand?”

“Enlighten me,” Your mouth quirks up into a smile, which ultimately causes his cheeks to be set ablaze.

“Playing fucking nurse with you isn’t horrible. It’s one way to spend my birthday, even when you give me shit about it” His brows press together, trying to drown out his flustered expressions with a scowl, “There’ll be more birthdays to come, so why would I be ‘wasting’ it here? There, that’s it. You happy now?”

Silence.

“..More than happy. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your thing for playing nur—”

“Don’t you fucking finish that thought,” He says stern. “I’m going to get the nurses to check on you, and then— I’ll go home and come back again, tomorrow.”

He storms off, and when the blond is sure that he’s not in your line of vision anymore— he slumps against the wall

“Fucking hell, they’re driving me crazy.” He mumbles, recalling what he had pulled off earlier.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

454 notes · View notes

i-am-infinite · 4 years ago

Text

Guilt (Part 1): The Rescue

(Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!Fem!Reader)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Slight Chpt 12 and 13 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

Description: Moff Gideon has found someone else to run his experiments on and word gets back to Din. Will he take his son far away and try and find somewhere safe? Or will the guilt of an innocent being put in his son’s place eat away at him? (No Y/N or ___ used)

Word Count: Slightly over 4K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and needles. Broken glass. Fainting. Blood loss. Canon type violence. Possible bad writing (first fic pls go easy on me). If I’m missing anything please let me know, I’ve never done one of these before.

A/N: This is my first fanfic I’ve written so it might be really bad but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head so here it is. I also made up a planet/system and don’t know if star wars has alarm clocks but i wrote it in anyway. I also wrote this in Word first and then realized I couldn’t copy it over so I tried my best to type it over in here.

Normal. That is what was used to describe your life. Nothing out of the ordinary. Life wasn’t boring per se, but it definitely wasn’t compelling enough for your tastes. Studying to be a healer help keep it somewhat interesting but not enough.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Crust littered eyes creak open as your face unsticks from the textbook scattered across the desk. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Your stiff neck cracks as you finally sit up. Fell asleep studying again. You loved learning about healing, you really did. But the long nights and barely sleeping was enough to make your head explode. Looking over at the clock with bright red numbers blinking at you. 8:15.

8:15! I’m late! You think as you force yourself awake. No not again! Being a student means you need to do hands on hours down at the nearest medcenter. All the late night studying also means that you oversleep most days. Grabbing your work bag filled with a change of clothes, in preparation of these events, you run out the door.

Your feet hit the wet cobble stones as it echos through your little part of the city. Vendors lining up the street ready to start their days. Passing the shop you went to yesterday, your mind too preoccupied to notice that it’s empty today. You know that theres is a faster route to the medcenter, but is it a path you really want to take today? Dark and windy path that you can barely see five feet in front of you on mornings like this. Too foggy and muggy for your liking. You’d rather stick to the main road where there’s people, where if anything were to happen, people would see, they would know. Regardless, it shaves fifteen minutes off your commute. You loathe having to be late for another shift. Making the sharp turn in between tow booths, you pace quickens to get through as quickly as you can. While not having much visibility, you swear you can see a pair of eyes in the dark. Has to just be my imagination, you convince yourself, I just need to keep going. It’ll be fine.

Footsteps echo behind you. Hands grab your shoulders. A scream rises in your throat, but no sound comes out. Everything goes dark when you feel something hit the side of your head.

Sigh. “Grogu get back in your seat.” The little baby waddles down off the controls and into his father’s lap. “Not what I meant,” Din grumbles with a smile hidden under his helmet. He grabs Grogu by his little robe and places him in the seat to his right and tells him to buckle up as a holo comes through from Greef Karga.

“Mando, we’ve just got word that Moff Gideon might have been seen in the Braic system. It looks like they found a substitute for the baby for the time being. I would use this time to go find a hide-out and lay low. He could still come back for the little one. Be well,”

Din goes to start the ship and find coordinates to stay out of trouble for a while when he hears the baby whine. Looking back at his adoptive child, all Din can see is Grogu, then a nameless kid, lying unconscious on a metal table, trapped underneath a contraption. Din starts breathing heavy and feeling sick that he ever gave his son up to those Imps. All he can hear is the beeping of the machine he’s hooked up to. Anger boiling back to the surface as he hears himself yell at the doctor all over again in his memories. No, he tells himself, He’s here with me. He’s fine. He’s safe. He shakes himself out of it and goes to fly the Razor Crest off planet.

Before he even gets off the planet, all Din can think about is that innocent person in his son’s place. They were going to kill Grogu, just for his blood for their experiments. Din can’t bring the kid anywhere near those people, he can’t risk losing his family, not when both of them have formed such attachments to each other. But he can’t stop thinking of this person who is in the that position now. He should’ve made sure Gideon was dead. Because of that now more people are going to get hurt.

Without thinking he turns on his holo already asking, “Where is he taking them?”

Feeling groggy with heavy eyes, you are able to open them just a bit to a blinding light. Reluctantly closing them again, you lift your arm to rub your eyes, but only they don’t move. What? The rest of your senses start coming back and you can feel the cool metal against your back, the same metal wrapped around your wrists and your ankles attached to the table. Finally bracing the light and opening your eyes, lifting your head slightly off the table and oh no the room is spinning now. There is an IV in your arm drawing your blood out into some odd machine, explaining the dizziness. Second time in two days you’ve had to deal with your own blood.

Walking through the shops on your one day off, you pick up a flower hair pin. The glasswork is so intricate and entrancing, you can’t help but turn it over and over in your hands. A pearl bead sitting in the center of iridescent gray and white petals. Placing it back in its place, your had scrapes against another glass design that is not yet finished, slashing open your palm. “Oh, dear let me help you with that,” the lady running the stand says. She looks you with her white hair barely covering her forehead. Tattoos liter her arms. A design peaks your interest as you swear you know but can’t quite place.

“It’s fine, I can take care of it myself,” you state already inspecting your hand. No shards in it so thats good.

“Oh no I insist. It happened at my booth, let me help clean it,” she declares taking your hand in her own. It feels like she squeezes the wound causing you to wince in pain slightly. Knowing she should just be cleaning it and wrapping it, you’re a little confused. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to tend to these sort of things, not wanted to embarrass her at her stand, you keep quiet. She finally gets a clean rag to help blot away at the blood on your hand. You didn’t think anything of it at the time, but it appears she has put it in a bag to the side.

“I don’t have any gauze to help wrap it up,” the stand lady says.

“Oh, don’t worry, I have plenty of my own,” you mention, “It will be fine until I make it back to my place.” Smiling you walk away. Without looking, you can feel her move the piece you cut your hand on into the bag. Must just be because it’s a dangerous piece, you think, not knowing there’s still some of your blood on it too.

Closing your eyes again, you try to wonder why that is so significant to you right now. It was a harmless thing in passing, so why is it at the forefront of your mind? You are strapped to a table and all you can think about is that little cut you got the day prior. If your head didn’t feel like it was a spinner top right now, you would have laughed. Opening your eyes again you see men all in white armor and helmets guarding the door to your room, while a man in a white coat is working on the machine where your IV is attached. I thought the empire was dead. The same symbol that keeps going through your mind is the same one sewn into the man’s white coat. Your breathing gets shallower as you feel the panic rise in your chest. I’m never getting out of here, you realize as your vision becomes black once again.

You’re losing a lot of blood. You know that. You can feel it when noise wakes you up and your eyelids feel like lead. All the noise is muffled, as if you’re underwater. Frankly it feels like you are. It would be so easy to let the waves of darkness just wash over you right now, to let the water take you under. No, you can’t give up the fight and drown into unconsciousness just yet. You force yourself to stay awake.

Barely getting your eyes open, bright red lights flood your vision. You imagine you’re still in bed, or at least asleep at your desk, with the alarm clock blaring, not here with blaster fire. Wait, blaster fire? You attempt to turn your head to the side to look, or to dodge, you aren’t to sure in your current state. The fast action causes you to feel like you’re spinning, or it might be the room, either way your eyes can’t focus on what is going on. Closing your eyes again to make it stop, you hear voices surrounding you. They sound so far away at the moment but finally, after what feels like ages, one voice sounds clearer.

“Please help us. Help us get out of here. Her m-counts aren’t nearly as high as the child’s. They’re demanding more blood. She’s already lost 2 liters, I don’t know how much longer she can last.”

Child? They wanted to do this to a child? You’d choke down a sob if you could just thinking of that poor baby. What did he even say about what-counts? What the hell are those? All these questions are making your head spin more and more. Taking most of your energy to open your eyes, you’re met with a chrome stormtrooper trying to unbind you. Wait no, not a stormtrooper. You’ve heard stories about him and his people. What were they called? For the life of you, you can’t remember right now.

“You’re going to need help getting her out of here,” you realize that the man in the whit coat was the one who spoke before and is now pleading with the metal man, “Please Mandalorian take me with you and I’ll help you get her out of here.”

That’s it. He’s a Mandalorian. He gets your wrists free as the doctor takes the IV out. Pushing off the table to sit up, the world starts spinning again. You don’t even realize you’re about to hit the table again until the Mandalorian grabs your shoulders to keep you semi-upright. You hear some sort of static come from his helmet. “Fine.” he grumbles, “help me get her out of this thing.”

With a flip of a switch, the rest of your body is free from restraints. Eager to get out of there, you swing your legs over the edge of the table, hands finding the arms of the Mandalorian with his hands still on your shoulders. Nauseous and woozy, you try to use the cold metal of his pauldron to ground yourself, to get the room to stop spinning. He can see you start to sway and wraps his arms around your waist as he lowers you from the table. Your feet hit the floor and black dots start to cloud your vision. Blood pounding in your ears trying to tell you to stop and lie back down. Muffled voices come from beside you again as you feel another arm wrap around you from the other side. Your feet dragging against the floor as both men on either side of you go towards the door.

You feel the heavily armored man to your left let go. Eyes that are still fuzzy and unfocused sort of see him peak out the door with his blaster drawn. He leaves the room and all that can be heard is the pew pew pew of blaster fire. Vision start to come back the tiniest bit, you can see him standing in the door way waving his hand as to say Come on.

The three of you hurry as fast as you can down the corridor to get to an exit. Lots of twists and turns, just for you all to come up at a dead end. So much for rescuing, you think to yourself as the doctor still holding you up, leans you up against a pillar as the two of them survey the situation. More of the Mandalorian assessing the situation and the doctor just frantically pacing back and forth.

Sitting down now that the adrenaline of being kidnapped and “rescued” die down, you feel your breathing getting shallower and harder to breath. Eyelids getting heavy again. You just want to lay down and go to sleep, hoping that will fix things. Starting your descent from your upright position to close your eyes, two hands grab your shoulders and jerk you up. It takes a second to realize this modulated voice was talking you you. “Hey, you got to stay with me now,” he pleads, one hand going to the side of your face. Pain spreads across your features due to being struck there earlier, a bruise starting to form in its place. Pulling his hand away like seeing the your face contorted burned him, he continues, “I’m going to get you out of here, you just have to stay awake.” You open your mouth to speak, but your throat feels like it’s filled with sand from Tattooine, so you just weakly nod your head yes. “Okay good,” the shiny man says after letting out a deep breath.

Still holding your shoulders, he helps you stand up and tells the doctor to take you and go further down the hall. Taking something small and circular out of his belt and placing it on the far wall, he speed walks back toward you two. It starts blinking red as his arms come and cage both of you in. Peeking over his shoulder, you see the wall disappear. Well explode, but one second ago it was there and now it’s not. When the explosion first rings in your ears, you reflexively reach out for the Mandalorian’s arm and feel him tense under your touch.

When he deems it safe to move again, letting go of his arm, he hops over the rubble to the outside world, blaster drawn. Looking out you think it looks like a desert, but one you’ve never seen before. You have no idea where you are, even what planet you are on. You eyes go to where the chrome man is stalking towards. It seems he found two speeder bikes that the troopers use, sans the troopers. Your feet hit the gravel and you realize you aren’t wearing shoes anymore. How long was I out? You begin to question when you see a stormtrooper take aim at your rescuer. Right when he pulls the trigger, you reach your hand out and scream, “NO!”

You could’ve sworn it was going to hit him. It should’ve hit him. But at the last second it bent and went in another direction. You knew stormtroopers were bad shots, but nothing like that has ever happened. The Mandalorian whips around at your scream and shoots the trooper down. He goes back to what he originally planned to do, but not without turning to you. You see his chest plate heave up and down a few times before turning back around. After a beat, the only sound you can hear is the Mandalorian starting up the speeders and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The doctor helps guide you to the bikes and as you’re about to get on behind him, the Mandalorian picks you up bridal style and sits on his own respective bike. You make a noise of discontent at the sudden action and are then seated in front of him, yet again caged in by his arms with your legs draped over one of his. You can hear him breathing through the modulator as he states, “Just in case you pass out again. Can’t have you falling off the back of the bike.” You go to adjust how you are sitting when he takes off.

Gasping in shock, you hug your arms around his neck with you head in his cowl as you take panicked breaths. His hand touches your back as you hear him shout over the noise of the engines, “Put your legs around me, you’re slipping off.” He holds your waist as you sling your right leg around and hook it with your left one behind his back. Not the position you thought you’d end up in as a blush creeps up on your face, but neither the less here you are. His hand lets go of your waist and back to the handlebars as he steers.

Suddenly getting the feeling like you’re being followed, you say into his neck cowl, “Go left!” You don’t know why, but you just get a gut feeling to go that way. He follows your lead, not without a brief hesitation. The doctor follows on his speeder in the same direction. Finally looking up you see two stormtroopers in the distance. I wish their speeders would just stop or something, you plead with yourself and you think back to what happened with the blaster. Testing the waters, you unhook one of your hands from Mando’s neck and hold it out and... nothing. Okay focus, you close your eyes and picture their speeders stopping, or malfunctioning, or anything at this point.

The sound of a crash comes ringing into your ears. Opening your eyes, you can see the troopers flip over their handlebars as if their engines just died. You slightly chuckle to yourself as your eyelids feel heavy again. You try to get them to stay open, but sleep just feels so much better at the moment. And with that, you’re out like a light.

Din feels you go limp against him. His arm once again going to grab you by your waist to keep you in place. He wills his speeder to go faster, to get back to the Razor Crest sooner as he’s panicking thinking he somehow made the situation worse. He exposed you on the bike by having you sit like this. Your arms, legs, and head were all exposed to possible blaster fire. Have you been hit? He heard a crash but couldn’t look back without moving you more, risking leaving you more unprotected. His blame for himself spirals as his grip on you grows tighter. He can’t explain why he’s so distraught over a stranger, but still every time he blinks, he swears he sees back on that table. The next time he swears he sees his son on that very table again. First he gave the kid up to those people, now he didn’t finish Gideon off and let you, an innocent stranger who he is now clutching onto for dear life, get in the crossfire. Too many people have gotten hurt because of this. Because of him. He needs to make it right.

Finally Din and Dr. Pershing arrive at the Razor Crest where Din is already lowering the hatch and carrying you in. Kicking some crates together, he gently lowers you down onto this makeshift bed. He uses his thermal setting to see your body temperature, to see how you are recovering from the blood loss. He isn’t thrilled to see it still low, you were getting your energy back slowly before, along with more body heat, bit not enough to Din’s liking. Turning his helmet to Pershing, the doctor says, “She’s going to need more blood.” Din, already standing ready to run out and get some, not even knowing where or how to do that, is stopped by Pershing telling him that he’ll go get it, that it would look less suspicious. Agreeing, Din sits by your side while using his comm-link to tell Greef that he could bring Grogu back to the ship. How Din always finds someone to babysit still surprises him.

You wake up with a start. Eyes not yet adjusted to the lights overhead. Looking down you can see an IV in your arm again. Now towards the side, you can see the same doctor from before asleep up against a wall. Please tell me it wasn’t a dream, tears well up in your eyes as you think you’ve made the whole thing up to cope. It wasn’t until you felt your hand come to wipe away your watery eyes that you realized it just might not be a dream. The IV isn’t taking blood this time, it’s giving it.

Finally looking around, you realize you’re on a ship that feels like it’s moving. Confused by this, you try and sit up. Not nearly as dizzy as before, you slowly swing your legs off the wooden crates you’re lying on. Noticing your still barefoot as a chill gets sent up to your spine by the cold metal floor, you grab your IV bag off what appears to be just a hook poorly attached to the ceiling. You venture around the small area of the ship, noticing there isn’t a lot besides these boxes and what appears to be two storage type of units. You don’t even tempt to look in, too intrusive. You do however see a ladder going higher up on the ship. Taking the IV out and ripping a piece of your shirt off to wrap around your arm for pressure, so you can use both hands to climb, you start your ascent up.

Once you finally reach the top, you hear cooing? Didn’t that doctor say something about a child earlier? Looking forward into the cockpit, you see your savior flying while looking to his right at one of the co-pilot chairs. Clearing your throat to get his attention, two little eyes peer at you from the seat. A bright smile appears on this little green things face and you can’t help but stifle a laugh because its ears are the size of his body.

Distracted by this cute baby, you don’t notice the way the Mandalorian swivels his chair to face you. Finally looking at the man who saved you today, your breath hitches. You don’t know how to thank him for what he did, so you sort of just stand and stare for a second. He stands up and lightly grabs your arm with your homemade bandage on it. Tilting his helmet to the side you hear static coming from it. Did he just sigh at you? “You were supposed to keep it in your arm,” he finally states, with a tinge of annoyance.

Eyes not wanting to meet the T of his visor, you direct your gaze to the ground. “ I jus- I-,” you stammer, not able to find the right words. “Thank you.” It comes out more hushed than you’d like, but he still hears you. He just gives you a slight nod before releasing his arm and heading back to his seat. All your muscles turn to stone as you stand there not knowing if you should leave or not, until he cocks his head towards the seat to his left. On shaky legs you find your way to the seat. Before even sitting down fully, the little green child is already trying to get into your lap. Giggling to yourself you let him up onto your lap.

Once you do the strangest thing happens. You can feel what he’s thinking, his emotions, his past. How he was trained with the special abilities, much like the ones you just displayed before. How he was scared and in hiding until the man sitting in front of you found him. How he thinks of him as a father, his dad. Your chest tightens at that one. Still confused as to why the same people who wanted this child, Grogu, for his powers, also wanted you, you pull him to your chest to comfort you both. You finally speak up again and ask, “Did they want me because I might have the same abilities as this one?” You meant it to sound strong, but it just came out sounding weak.

Without looking at you, the Mandalorian replies shortly after a pause, “Yes.” You swore you can see his grip tighten on the ships steering as he says that. Turning to the two of you finally, he says in the sincerest voice you’ve heard out of him, “They wont get to either of you again. I can promise you that.” Your chest swells at this statement and Grogu looks up at you with a smile as if he felt the way your heart fluttered. You wish you were the one wearing the helmet right now because you can feel your cheeks heat up. To ease the situation in the best way you can, awkwardly, you clear your throat before asking, “So where are we headed now?”

Swiveling back in his chair to hit a few buttons, you’re confused not knowing what they are supposed to do until he pulls up a map and points a place out. He tells you that he’s going to drop off Dr. Pershing at one of the squiggles you see and then try and figure it out from there. “So, I guess thats where I get off too?” You meant it to come out more as a statement than a question, but after what you just went through, you’d rather not be left to fend for youself.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally utters after a while. “ But they’re not going to stop coming after you. Either of you. It might be safer for you to stay here with me, us.” The last part comes out so quiet, it’s almost as if he didn’t want you to hear, out of fear of your response.

Trying to not answer too quickly, you take a deep breath and finally say, “Yes. I’d like that a lot.” With a curt nod, he turns back around. Warmth fills your chest yet again at this stranger’s kindness. It’s just because I have the same abilities as his child, you try to convince yourself. But deep down you’re hoping it’s more than that. The child in your lap grips your fingers tightly and coos, as if he’s trying to tell you your hopes might not be too far off.

Oh, it’s going to be an interesting adventure with these two, you smile to yourself.

252 notes · View notes

iwadori · 4 years ago

Note

Hiiii can i request prompt 53 with tsukki? My annoying cousin u may know @chibiiichan(i cant tag her its a surprise) recommend ur account and well she never been right more than now I LIKE UR ACC TOO URM JUST TAG HER IN THE POST (bcs its actually her birthday next week monday so....the least i could do this bcs she likes tsukki and shes recently talk abt the iwazumi story of yours....lmao shes cringe but in the same time got mad n i was besides her hearing her whining like bruh 'its 1 am'...i know i should buy something for her but she got spoiled enough 💅...that mf-) thank you ✨

‘ALWAYS AND FOREVER’

TSUKISHIMA X READER

2K WORDS

GENRE: ANGST,FLUFF

TW: SLIGHT AMBIGIOUS MENTION OF SUICIDE/ASSISTED DEATH, AND DEATH, CURSING (IN MY A/N)

THIS IS FOR @chibiiichann Happy birthday, I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS (BECAUSE I HATE IT :D ) SOOOOO YEAH I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR BIRTHDAY.

NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL. EXPECT SLIGHT MISTAKES

You were dying. You knew it. Your husband, Kei, knew it. Even friends you haven’t spoken too since high school knew it.

So why did you all pretend that everything was okay?

5 year old Y/N:

You were running around your neighbourhood park chasing after butterflies, without a care in the world. As you were frollicing in the grass, you manage to trip over a rock tumbling to the ground scraping your knee making it bleed. Looking down at your slightly injured knee, your lip begins to quiver which eventually leads to wails of tears streaming down your face.

“you don’t have to cry you know?” said a slightly quiet voice towering over you. Above you was a boy, quite tall with a fat pair of glasses, golden eyes and a head full of blonde locks.

“Well when I get hurt, I cry” you say matter oh factly (is that the phrase?) rubbing your nose as you sniffle. He held out a hand to you, which you immediately took shooting upwards and brushing yourself off.

The boy, after looking at you wildly, turns around and walks back to the actual park. “Oi wait,” you call at the boy swiftly following him “aren’t you going to ask my name?”

“no.” he says simply, proceeding to walk ahead.

“well my names Y/N L/N pleasure to meet you,” you say jumping in front of him so he doesn’t move, waiting for him to tell you his name...which he doesn’t. “you don’t have to be so rude you know”

“I’m not being rude” he says stiffly “ it’s just my brother says not to speak to strangers” a smirk appears on his face to say ‘you can leave me alone now.’

As if on cue, his brother approaches the both of you given the boy a slap on the back making him cringe “Hey Kei, who’s the friend you’ve made here?”

“My name is Y/N L/N and I'm here to be KEI’s best friend!” you said putting the emphasis on the word Kei after just learning that was the blondes name.

Kei rolled his eyes and sighed saying ��nii-chan can we go home now” he folded his arms in annoyance.

“No Kei, you’ve got to get to know your new found friend Y/N-Chan right?” his brother said teasingly, knowing it was the last thing Kei wanted to do.

“Yes ofcourse!” you say with a toothy grin, dragging Kei along with you to his demise.

Until the sun went down, you spent the rest of your time with Kei getting to know eachother (well him getting to know you more, since you did all the speaking.) Regardless of his previous annoyance in getting to know you in the first place, Kei would be lying if he said he didn’t want to know you now.

As the sun was setting, Kei’s older brother (who’s name you learned was Akiteru) called him to tell him he had to go home because dinner was ready. Before he left, you grabbed his hand and wrapped your pinky finger around his saying “As long as we shall live, we will always look out for eachother as we are forever bestfriends, agreed?”

back to present -

In some odd way, this was Kei’s way of looking out for you. He knew what you had was uncurable and would weaken you even more as the days go by, so pretending like nothing was wrong seemed to be best in his eyes.

Everything you and Kei did was a game or some nostalgic act that you once did when you were children. It was sweet to say the least, seeing Kei all engrossed and determined to make you happy.

Your alarm rings snapping you out of you daydream, ‘it was time for medicine’ you thought with your face scowling at the thought. Immediately on time, as always, Kei comes In the room with all your medicine thats needed.

“Aren’t you my perfect little nurse Kei” you say teasingly giving him a wink, laughing as you see his face turn red.

“Do you have to do this every time y/n?” he asks rolling his eyes at your childish behaviour.

“Oh I'm just showing love to my best and favourite nurse” you continue laughing at your own words

“Im your only ‘nurse’” he deadpans giving you your medicine as you talk.

“Well that is more reason to make you the best nurse.” you say smiling.

Silence falls between you, and you stare down at your arm watching as your husband gives you the medicine making you frown. “Do we have to keep doing this?” you ask which is probably the 1000th time you’ve asked.

“Of course we do Y/N as I’ve said yesterday and the day before that and the day before that it-”

“But do we really?” you interrupt “I can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep doing this.”

“Do you doubt me Y/N, I can do this forever” he says “ I can take care of you forever”

“But I don’t wan-”

“I’m finished, I’m going to start on dinner” he gets up and leaves the room yelling “I’ll call you when it’s done.”

Sometimes you and Kei have these conversations. And all the time it ends the same way. You complain, he ignores and then you go and have dinner.

You can understand why he doesn’t want to have this conversation. Who would want to hear about their partners complaints about practically being alive. Kei was torn, ever since he met you all he wanted to was to keep you happy. But could he compromise his own happiness for it.

15 year old Y/N - flashback

“Kei Kei, aren’t you excited!” you yell smiling widley

“Excited for what?” he asks, amused by your enthusiasm “it’s just highschool.”

“Well it’s a new highschool! Karasuno high school, to be exact.”

“And that is still just a school.” he says

“Not just any! That’s the school nii-chan went too, and even tho he lie-”

“Let’s not talk about it Y/N” he murmurs “we should go now, don’t want to be late on our first date.”

Going to Karasuno was fun, at the start everyone was pleasant and nice. But after a week or two when you and Kei were still stuck to eachother like glue, people weren’t so pleasant. Kei was like a pop idol, being gorgeous and over 6ft at just the age of 15, caused alot of attention, especially when he was always around you.

At the start, the hate you got was bearable, it was the petty bitchy notes in your locker or just people blatanly talking badly about you infront of you. People didn’t do it when you weren’t around Kei, so when he had volleyball practice (which you were so excited that he joined the team) you were a big target for the bullies to come around.

Kei didn’t really know of the bullying that happened towards you, especially since he was mainly in practice or not around when it happened. But one day in practice he heard some of his teammates, kageyama and hinata who seemed to talking about a student in one of their classes that was always getting picked on by the other girls in the year.

“Yeah and I heard that Nana-san was planning on getting her and her friends to attack Y/N-san soon.” said Hinata

“Shrimpy, who are they planning on attacking?” Kei asks to make sure he just heard the ginger correctly.

“Oh this lovely person in our class their name is Y/N-san” he says, looking at Kei’s reaction he also asks “Why? Do you know them?”

Kei doesn’t respond, and immediately leaves the gym, ignoring Hinata’s and the other members of the teams yells of ‘Where are you going tsukishima.’ He didn’t care, he just had to get to you.

He searched all the classes, asking every student if he knew where you were. Someone directs him to the toilets, where he burst through the door to see the other girls in your year surrounding you and beating you up.

“What the fuck are you doing to them?” he yells startling the girls.

“T-T-Tsukishima-san" one girl says “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh fuck off” he says, with them still frozen in shock “I said go!”

“And don’t think I don’t know your names either” he calls after them.

He rushes towards your bruised body on the ground and cradles you gently, confused on what to really do. “Oi Kei,” you say weakly catching his attention “I would’ve won if you didn’t come to stop the fight.” you joke making him scoff.

“Whatever you say Y/N.”

After you heal up, Kei already told on the girls that beat you up getting them suspended, and you explain how they were treating you because of their infatuation of him. And how they only did it when he wasn’t around.

Once he learns this information, he decides to quite the volleyball team, to your surprise. But you demands on making him not quit were ignored, as he excused it by saying “I have to make sure you’re always alright remember, and if that means quitting some volleyball team then so be it.”

That was one out of the many times that Kei put his happiness before yours.

Flashback over.

When you first got diagnosed, Kei was immediately researching on it as it was a very rare condition. But sadly, he only found what the doctor already told you both. It was uncurable and your immune system and your body will weaken as the days go by.

Which it did, you were a shell of your past self. It was always shocking for Kei to see, especially with you only being 25. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be this way,’ but he never let you see his sadness.

Whenever you knew Kei was sad you always reminded him “Kei, I may be dying but please don’t cry over me” every time you said, there was a slight undertone of humour in your voice which always worked in boosting Kei’s spirit.

AN: IVE GOTTEN TO THE POINT WHERE I HATE THIS SOOO IM SORRY IN ADVANCE FOR THE SHITTING RUSHED ENDING IM GOING TO PROVIDE FOR YOU LOL.

The days passed and the years went by, and you and Kei were still alive and kicking it. Doing your daily routine of you making some joke, Kei giving you your medicine and then you eating dinner. You eventually stopped complaining, realizing and remembering your promise you gave to Kei at 5 years old in that park. “As long as we shall live, we will always look out for eachother as we are forever bestfriends, agreed?”

Of course you had your rough days, everybody did and it was even harder being sick with a terminal illness. But having Kei to guide you through the storm made It better for you.

However, Kei isnt a miracle worker. He couldn’t save you, noone could. And you both knew that. That didn’t mean it made it any easier when the medicine stopped working and your pain got too hard to bear. Kei couldn’t watch you do this anymore, “the choice is yours” he said with tears in his eyes.

So you knew what you had to do, you got in your bed pulling Kei with you, and letting him envelope you in a big hug as you both cried.

“I love you,” you say “You know that right?”

“Of course I know that, idiot” he replies “And I love you.”

“Always and forever?”

“Always and forever.”

AN: how did I END UP CRYING WHILST WRITING THIS WHEN IT MADE NO FUCKING SENSE, I WAS TRYING TO DO THIS COOL NOTEBOOK (I HAVENT EVEN WATCHED THE NOTEBOOK) ENDING WHERE ITS AMBIGIOUS AND SHIT AND I JUST GIVE UP OKAY? I APOLOGISE LOOOOOOL. I HOPE YOU ENJOY ATLEAST A SENTENCE OF THIS AT LEAST.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu scenarios #haikyu headcanons #haikyu #tsukishima kei #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima angst #tsukishima x reader

69 notes · View notes

petri808 · 3 years ago

Text

Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

“How are you holding up son, are you eating enough food? You need to keep up your strength.” Mitsuki Bakugou questioned through the phone when her son called to give her an update.

“Yeah, yeah, of course I am! And, um, thanks for the money you put in my account,” Bakugou mumbled his appreciation.

“It’s from us, Inko, and All Might— actually he’s been putting up the bulk of it. We’re all hoping you find Izuku soon, but until then we’ll make sure you have what you need, just bring him home.”

“I’m working on it. Bastard’s not making it easy, but at least the damn authorities haven’t picked up on the trail yet.” It was a good thing, because Bakugou didn’t need them scaring Midoriya further away.

“You’re like a dog with a bone when you put your mind to something, so I know you’ll find a way.”

“I can’t believe you just equated me to a dog!”

“Oh, bite your tongue boy! It’s an expression!”

“Yeah, yeah. I better go, the train’s here.” He could see it pulling into Kawaji station.

“Are you still not gonna tell us where you are?”

“Nope. He moves around a lot anyways. Just know we haven’t left Honshu.”

“Alright. Good luck son. I’ll pass on your update to Inko and All Might.”

This game of hide and seek was physically wearing on Bakugou, but there was nothing short of a full incapacitation that would keep him from searching. After the Ena incident, Midoriya’s tactics had changed somewhat. The man moved more frequently and, in a zigzag, whereas in the past it had been heading in a straight line towards Shizuoka to the southwest. But there was one thing Midoriya couldn’t hide— victims. It didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together.

There were still times victims were drained, but not all of them. Bakugou surmised in order to not leave them fully incapacitated like before, his friend wasn’t always waiting until he was hungry, or he hadn’t learned to control it yet. He probably fed almost nightly, picking drunkards who wouldn’t remember what happened, and even less likely to report the incident. But less reports made it harder to track, and less blood also forced Midoriya to drink more often. Bakugou hoped that with shorter times between attacks, the man would get sloppy and make a mistake.

There were a lot of small towns all over, including abandoned structures from older times. Plenty of places to hide, not to mention dense forests and the mountainous terrain of central Japan that a person could disappear in. When tracking a lack of victim reports grew frustrating, Bakugou started looking for other clues, and in one town, a perceptive police officer commented about thefts he’d been hearing about from the surrounding areas. Random stores or restaurants, even some homes reporting the theft of food, sometimes clothing, basically survival type supplies but no valuables, which are not the norm of a burglary. It was brilliant.

Bakugou had thanked the officer for the information and immediately began inquiring in towns and watching newspapers where they were having both types of problems. It took almost a month, including a couple of near misses, until Bakugou knew he was closing in.

Local newspapers were reporting about unusual happenings in the smaller towns. In Ieyama city, high up in the mountains north of Shizuoka, Bakugou spoke with a police officer and confirmed a rash of strange incidents reported. Three burglaries of just food, one bath house broken into after closing, and a couple of reported attacks where the victims had marks on their necks. So far, Izuku’s new behaviors included sticking around the same area for about a week before moving on. With these latest cases only 3 days old in total, Bakugou knew they were a fresh lead.

“Yesterday, right?”

“Yes, the last burglary was in the afternoon while the homeowner was at work.” Using a paper map, the police officer showed Bakugou the location of the most recent burglary as well as two others over the last couple of days. It was very telling. The three places were centered around a 4-block radius. “If you are looking for hiding spots, there is an abandoned factory in that area. I’ll give you the address.”

“Thanks. I doubt they’d stay so close to the attack grounds, but I’ll check it out.” He didn’t want any of them following him.

It was still daylight, but Bakugou didn’t want to waste any time and risk his friend moving again after dark, heading straight for the dilapidated warehouse. The place looked like it had been emptied for a longtime. There was a rusted, chain link fence around the property, many broken windows, and weeds growing over the structure. Bakugou crept up to one of the windows, and heard nothing, so he moved slowly, quietly around the exterior paying close attention to any sounds or movements inside. But he heard nothing to indicate anything was there, not even an animal. Maybe it was another dead end, or maybe Midoriya was just sleeping. Un-phased, he moved inside the two-story building to make absolutely sure.

It took a while to search cautiously through the darkness, watching his step so not to step on anything or make a noise. The vastly open bottom floor was almost completely empty aside from a few left behind junk. So, Bakugou moved to the second floor where offices once were. Of all the areas, the top floor would provide the warmest cover, as well as quicker access to the roof. Like a trained tactical soldier, he cleared room after room, moving down the hallway that separated the individual offices, and one by one, eliminating them from the search. Finally, Bakugou reached the last one and heard the soft breathing of a sleeping person. Well, that meant two options, it’s just a homeless person or he’d finally caught his friend off guard.

Bakugou peered cautiously around the door frame. It was dark, but just enough light from a small window allowed his eyes to adjust quickly on a form lying down on the floor. Next to the person was a backpack, empty food containers strewn around, and possibly other items from the burglaries. There was also a make-shift hearth of broken bricks and a metal bowl with dark residue inside. He could even smell the light scent of soot mixed with burnt wood. ‘Gotcha!’ He smirked as he pocketed his flashlight and pulled out a special pair of handcuffs used to dampen quirks. It didn’t completely shut down a person’s quirk, but it kept them from using its full power. He was ready for Midoriya this time.

‘Almost there…’ he crept forward in a crouched manner ready to pounce like a predator stalking its prey in careful movements since he no longer had the flashlight out to see by. ‘Damn minefield,’ Bakugou grumbled as he navigated around the strewn mess of stuff the sleeping man had around him. ‘Almost there—'

*Crunch*

A piece of glass shattered below his boot, the sounds reverberating off the silent cement walls. “Shit!” Bakugou dove forward when Midoriya immediately popped up and tried to dash away. “Not this time nerd!”

“Waaahhhcchan!” Midoriya screamed as he was tackled to the floor. The two men fought, vying for footing, but the blonde kept them on the ground. Bakugou grabbed for and slapped one end of the handcuffs onto one of Midoriya’s wrists. “Nooo!” The man screamed.

“Not this time Deku! You ain’t getting away!”

Weakened by the cuff, Bakugou poured all his strength into jerking the disheveled man, flipping him onto his stomach, and tweaking his arm behind him into a wrist lock for leverage.

Midoriya screamed again from the pain, but nevertheless fought with all he had. Unfortunately, the cuffs were doing their job. “Please, Kacchan! Don’t do this!”

“Tough shit!” Bakugou snapped back and attached the other cuff to his own wrist. The effects would hamper them both, but “I dare you, nerd, you can’t beat me in a contemporary fight.” He was confident of such, having always been the physically stronger of the two regardless of quirk. “I’m taking you home!”

Midoriya wriggled, and tugged, but it was of no use. His friend had planted his feet, dropped his weight, and refused to budge. He didn’t want to risk exhausting himself and triggering a full-blown thirst like last time, so he stopped struggling.

After a few seconds, Bakugou got off the man and turned him over so he could sit up. Midoriya nursed his arm and rubbed at his wrist to soothe the pain. “Of course, I want to go home,” he sighed. “But it’s too dangerous Kacchan, why can’t you understand that?”

“Eri’s getting better every day, one day she’ll be able to control her quirk and fix you.”

“That’s not good enough. What are you gonna do, lock me up hoping she can fix me?! You saw what happened! Just like we eat food every day, I need blood, how are you gonna deal with that?!”

“Fine,” Bakugou shrugged, “we’ll hook you up to an IV and feed you blood when you need it.”

“No,” Midoriya started tugging again as tears flowed down his cheeks. “Please,” he begged, “this is too embarrassing, don’t you understand! I’ll never be able to be a hero again, my reputation will be ruined once everyone finds out! Hero society will look bad! It’s better I stay away!”

Frustrated with having his wrist yanked, Bakugou whipped his friend around and put him in a carotid choke hold. “Well, I’m not fucking leaving,” he spat, “so, we need to come up with a solution. Now stop fucking fighting me and get it through your head, the reality is I’m not going anywhere.”

Midoriya clawed at Bakugou’s arm trying to pull it away from his neck, but the man had it cinched in tight. If he kept struggling, he was bound to pass out. Exhausted, he finally relented and turned into a dead weight, sobbing quietly. “Why are you doing this, Kacchan… why?”

“Because a friend once told me I need to save to win, and right now you need to be saved for me to win.”

“Right? Win, I get it,” Midoriya narrowed his eyes along with tone. “This is an ego thing? You’ll take me back to show how you’re still better than me?” His heart didn’t believe those words, but as a coping mechanism, it did.

Bakugou let go of the man and shoved him so hard Midoriya face planted on the floor, stretching the handcuff chain to its limit. “I ought’a punch your lights out for saying that! I’m trying to win my friend back you asshole! You think I’d spend all this time chasing you if I didn’t care?!”

“Kacchan…” The man sighed and slowly propped himself back up. “There’s nowhere safe for me to go.”

Bakugou ignored the man and looked at his watch, noting the sun would have fully set by now. It might best to stay another night while he came up with a plan. “Tch, I’ll figure something out. In the meantime, behave or I will just knock you unconscious.”

“Fine, I won’t fight. But I do need to feed tonight.” Midoriya lifted his arm to flash the cuff. “Guess you’ll have to help me.”

“Why? You feeling the urge?” Midoriya nodded yes. “How can you tell?”

Midoriya thought about the answer for a minute before responding. “It’s like feeling dehydrated, maybe, at least in the beginning, but then it starts to get painful if I don’t feed it. I guess think of it like if you don’t eat for so long your stomach hurts— that’s what it’s like.”

“Sounds like it sucks.”

Midoriya snorted. “Understatement. It takes control of my mind by that point, almost as if it’s a survival instinct to protect itself.”

“Well, mister know it all. You ever heard of this kind of quirk before?”

“No,” Midoriya shook his head.

“Do the vestiges have anything to say about all this?”

Again, Midoriya shook his head.

Bakugou groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter for the current situation.” He looked up again fixing a stare at his friend. “So, what do you do to get the blood?”

#bakudeku #bkdk #bakudeku au #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction #vampire quirk #katsudeku #ktdk #ch 7 #bloody passion #eventual smut

15 notes · View notes

hitsuackerman · 4 years ago

Text

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.17

a/n: aye. please read the authors note at the end :)

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @awings @simpformiya @sayakaaaaaa @colorseeingchick @demursv1ogs @chrisrue15 @beanst0ck @parttime-simp @kit-kat428 @ntimacy @something-that-idk (i have no idea why i can’t tag some of you :( huhu )

links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 18

The last thing you saw, before being eaten by whatever Deku projected, were Akaashi’s wide opened eyes. After that, it was nothing but darkness. If it weren’t for Bakugo gripping tightly onto your uniform, you swore you would have experienced a heart attack despite such a young age.

Yet, the sensation of opening your eyes to bland white walls and beeping machines was foreign.

“(y/n)? Darling?” A familiar voice caught your attention. “Are you alright?”

Attempting to sit up, you were assisted with a pair of warm hands. Looking at the owner, your breath hitched upon seeing the face you had been trying to communicate many months back. Scanning the room, you accounted your parents, all your classmates, Bakugo, and Deku. The latter two being assisted by two nurses.

“(y/n)...? Drink this.” Shoto said as he handed a glass of water. Holding the glass to your mouth, he watched as you gulped down the liquid.

“Wh-why am I here?” You muttered. Looking at Bakugo and Deku, seeking answers from them would be useless. Both boys were still groggy and coming to their senses. Only to be met with silence, your eyes tried to meet whoever would dare answer your question. “Why isn’t anyone answering me?”

With the heart monitor picking up your increasing pulse, Shoto carefully placed his arm around your shoulder. Instincts came in as you immediately held on to his hand for support.

“Calm down.” He whispered. “If you want to cry then it’s alright. Giving yourself more stress isn’t good for you.”

Knowing he was right, you leaned on his arm and stared at your palm. Activating your quirk, a small gasp escaped your lips when you felt its power once more. The usual effort of having to use it seemingly vanished. With the glow brighter than ever, you quickly clenched your fist and let out a sigh.

“Shoto?”

“What is it? Are you in pain?” He leaned in closer and held your hand.

“I don’t wanna be here.” It was barely audible but he heard it enough.

“(y/n)-chan?” It wasn’t new for you to hear people calling you by that name but it felt different. Used to hearing Bokuto or even Konoha, your lips twitched upon recalling that you were not in the same world as them. Glancing at the source, Recover Girl had prepared a syringe with some sort of glowing liquid. “This’ll help calm your nerves and prevent your quirk from going haywire.”

Extending your arm, you barely winced as the needle pierced your skin.

“Would you like some privacy?” Recovery Girl asked. Though she knew that there was no need to question, it was only out of respect towards the visitors. Once she received a nod of confirmation, she began to shoo the people out of the room. Save for Shoto, Bakugo, and Deku. “Now that they’re out of the way, how’re you feeling?”

“I feel…” How did you feel? It was bad enough that you were forcibly taken back to where you belonged. If she was talking about your quirk then you were definitely sure how you felt. However, if she meant about the gaping hole developing in your heart then it was something you’d rather not dive into. “I’m not really sure how I feel.”

“Would you like to know why you came back here?”

“If it doesn’t bother you, then yes please.”

“Initially, you were supposed to be back after 4 days. At least that’s what we had initially agreed on.” She began. “But, the machine carrying Bakugo and Midoriya over to your location malfunctioned. Instead of your quirk going haywire, it was Midoriya’s that did. However, it would be better for you to take into consideration.”

“That what?”

“Midoriya and Bakugo were supposedly, in theory at least, to be transported and thereby encapsulated to those tanks over there.” Using her syringe cane, she pointed to the rather large mechanism. “That IV hose on your chest targets your arteries. Because of the nature of your quirk, it was a gamble on our part to see if that was the core of your power.”

“This medical talk is only confusing me.” You let go of Shoto’s hand and massaged your temple. “What is the point of all that?”

“It means that everything that happened, everything you felt and experienced, was nothing but a product of your mind’s unconscious effort to create a paradise.”

“P-pardon?”

“Because we were using your quirk as a means of bringing you back, it was expected that once the both of things were good to go, they would become as little as atoms and be enclosed in those capsules. Once they were stabilized, they would then take a small trip inside that IV hose connected to your chest. Merging them with your quirk, it would open the path to your neocortex and thalamus.”

“I wasn’t asking about the procedure.” You were more than aware you sounded rude but that was beyond you. “Did you say everything was a product of my i-imagination?”

“The effort of saving you could have gone two ways. The hypothesis was that if these two boys shrunk and turned into the size of atoms, then the possibility of another universe was very high. Yet they never did. Their bodies were not affected yet the green light indicated they had safely traversed to where they needed to be.”

“So... “ Feeling your fingers grow numb, you held on to your blanket and relayed all the events that happened. From having to adjust and get to know your surroundings, learning more about whatever life you had before you woke up in that version of Tokyo, to growing closer with the people there, and to eventually finding solace in the skilled hands of a setter… was nothing but a product of your imagination. “None of it was real?”

With no answer coming from the small nurse, you let out a silent cry towards Bakugo and Deku.

“You guys were there right? You saw how each person had their own train of thought? How big that area was?” Blinking the stinging sensation away, you felt tears rolling down your cheek. The heart monitor gradually beeping faster.

“I get that you’re panicking but what Recovery Girl stated, we were informed about it.” Deku explained. “In all honesty, Kacchan and I were putting it into consideration that something was off and that all of that was real. But the more we thought about it, the more it dawned to us that nothing really made sense.”

“Think about it, extra. You told us you’d be reaching 8 months there. I bet your mother there doesn’t even have a damn clue as to who you really are. Don’t even think about foul mouthing me cause I spend a handful of my time debating whether or not that's true or not.”

“Maybe it was a side effect of that villain’s quirk.” Shoto finally spoke up. He had a ton of questions but he knew it would all be left unanswered. “It happened right after, did it not? Perhaps it wasn’t water but something else and that the records were wrong.”

“We rechecked the criminal’s records and can confirm that his quirk was just water.” Recovery Girl added. Standing up, she fixed her coat and walked closer to you. “I know your thoughts are rampant and in a mess but don’t strain yourself. You just woke up and are still in an unstable position. Let me know if you want some Temazepam. Sleep would help.”

Watching her leave, you stared at the large window.

“Akaashi Keiji. Bokuto Kotarou. Konoha. Fukurodani Gakuen. Other Mother. Asami. Akiko.” You began to roll call each person you knew. At least the very important ones.

“Are those names?” Shoto asked softly.

“Yeah.”

“I have a lot of questions but I know you deserve to rest.” He carefully placed his index finger on your cheek to make you stare at him. Seeing how pale and spaced out you were, he motioned for you to scoot over and give him space. Giving him enough room to lay down, you allowed him to pull you into his arms. “I’m all ears if you want to vent it out.”

“I…” Making yourself comfortable, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck. The warmth his body gave was as comforting as ever. Closing your eyes, you began to absentmindedly play with his shirt. “Am I going crazy, Shoto? Everything felt real. There’s no way I’m capable of creating something that vast in my head.”

“Were those the names of the people you encountered?”

“Yeah. A few of them. Shoto?”

“Hm?”

“What did my mom and dad do?”

“Well…” Blinking his thoughts he wasn’t sure whether he should share it or not. “They were planning to get you back forcefully after 3 days. Whether Bakugo or Midoriya were fine with it or not.”

“Hm… I guess nothing’s changed. Truth be told I was kinda expecting something like this to happen.” Wrapping your arm around his body, you allowed your mind to wander what was happening on the other side. Did they remember you? Now that you weren’t there, did the you from the pictures emerge?

“Don’t overthink. Nothing good comes from that.” Turning to face you, he began to pat the back of your head. Despite the countless times he’s done that gesture, he had to admit he was still stiff as a board when it came to affectionate cuddles. “Go to sleep. I’ll see what I can do to help when you wake up.”

“I’m sorry for bringing more drama into your life.” You chuckled as you savored the safety Todoroki Shoto offered. “You have more than enough on your plate.”

“I don’t mind. Just don’t go on by thinking you don’t belong here.” Resting his lips on the crown of your head, he took a moment and blinked his thought process. The slight increase of his heartbeat was a bit off. Thinking it was due to the coffee he had a few hours ago, he shook his head and closed his eyes. “I’ll always be here. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know.”

“I know~”

You weren’t sure how many hours you slept but it still hadn’t sunken in that you woke up next to a sleeping Todoroki. Still in the nurse’s office, you sat up and examined your body. It was only now how you saw the amount of tubes and hoses that pierced your rather weak torso.

Looking across your bed, the machine that had transported Bakugo and Deku stood out like a sore thumb. You could tell it wasn’t the handy work of any of the support students. Staring at the capsules, your eyes followed the connected hose till your vision rested on your chest. It did occur to you that perhaps your heart was the center of your quirk, you just never took it seriously.

“How ironic.” You commented.

Feeling the bed shifting, you glanced over your shoulder and admired how fast asleep your friend was. Remembering that BakuDeku were still in the room, the hospital curtain prevented you from searching for them. Recovery Girl must have given you privacy when you two fell asleep.

Focusing on your palms, you activated your quirk. It truly felt amazing to know your powers were back to the way they were. Yet, being used to not having to rely on it was a whole different story. It may have been 2 months on this side of the world but it would probably be much easier to be relying on your quirk than not.

Slowly laying back down, you rested on your side and stared at the sleeping Shoto. Fixing his bangs, an image of Akaashi sleeping flashed in your mind. Compared to Shoto’s soft features, Akaashi was gifted with rather sharp ones.

What was he doing now? Were his thoughts or memories wiped clean? The last words you said before waking up was his name to add to your growing list of problems.

“Don’t cry.” Drowned in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized that Shoto had woken up. Meeting his eyes, there was nothing but sadness and sincerity.

Wiping the tears with his sleeve, he kept his right palm open. Using his quirk, he began to form little snowflakes.

“You’ve gotten better~” You sniffled. A small smile resting on your tear stained face. If there was one thing you two kept a secret, it was how Shoto couldn’t create detailed snowflakes. On a good day, he could form a few lumps of soft snow but this time, he had managed to create intricate patterns large enough for the eyes to see.

“Found some spare time to practice. It took a while but I realized that I had to incorporate a bit of heat into the mix. It’s pretty, is it not?”

“It is.”

“I won’t ask why you stopped trying to communicate with us here.” He began. “Bakugo and Midoriya managed to send a message about what was happening to them. I was honestly relieved that you were doing fine. But it annoyed how I couldn’t do anything.”

“You did what you could, Tododorky~” You poked his cheek. “Just give me a few days and I’ll answer your questions alright?”

“Alright.”

- - - - -

a/n:

I’m back :D

I posted much later than anticipated and I’m really sorry to keep all of you waiting :( My schedule was just so jam packed and I just couldn’t insert the time to write. If I did, I only managed to squeeze in a few sentences before I gave up due to stress and hatred of whatever the fuck is happening to the company I’m working in -_-

I’ve been feeling quite low these past few days and it’s really making me question whether or not the stories I make are worth reading :( I’m still tired as it is but it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t try to make things better than they are :]

that being said, the next upload date is a bit blurry but I will do my very best to upload back to my original schedule! :)

i hope all of you enjoy your day and this chapter! :) it ain’t much but i tried T.T

#akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi haikyuu #haikyuu akaashi #haikyuu x reader #bnha x haikyuu

39 notes · View notes

sailorbellewrites · 4 years ago

Text

Fools Rush In... X

characters — yoongi x reader (ft. members of bts and other original characters)

summary — min yoongi, music executive and perpetual bachelor, marries a las vegas stripper he’s only known for six months. chaos ensues.

inspiration — fools rush in (1997 rom-com starring salma hayek and matthew perry)

information — a drabble series loosely based on the 1997 movie fools rush in. drabbles not posted in any linear order and written as a creative writing outlet.

warnings — mentions of sex work; age-difference; light sugar daddy themes; smut; light angst (specifically in parts V & VI).

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI

X — photograph (ft. namjoon & taehyung)

Yoongi fucked up.

See, he never really thought of himself as a jealous person. He couldn’t be bothered to confront his ex-wife on her cheating, nor did he do anything about the men who fawned over his ex-girlfriend after her ballet performances. He was far more worried about his music career, his business ventures, and his future than he was about the other men trying to bed the women he was attached to. Hell, he hardly even thought of himself as attached to those women; but you changed that. You make the flames of jealousy engulf his heart in a way he was never prepared for and he hates himself for it.

He knows that he should just trust you more; knows that when you meet Kim Taehyung and lean into the art curator with wide eyes, you are only doing so to be polite. You are not actually attracted to the younger man, you don’t actually find his demeanor charming, and you don’t actually believe that his custom painted Birth of Venus Doc Martens are the coolest shoes you have ever seen—you are just being nice, in spite of what your words and actions portray.

Or at least, that is how Yoongi has chosen to rationalize the scene in his mind so he doesn’t go insane on the gallery floor. He almost lost it completely when you walked away with Taehyung to go view a mixed media piece more closely, but a quick reminder of all the business associates around him (former, present, and future) quickly set him straight again.

“This is hilarious,” Namjoon comments casually, slipping a glass of champagne into Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi says nothing, eyes still solely trained on the way your perfectly manicured fingers wrap around Taehyung’s bicep as you laugh at something he says. Now that it is front and center, Yoongi has never been more thankful for your insistence that he buy you a ring. “I didn’t know our Taehyung was so funny.”

“Be quiet,” Yoongi snaps back quickly, because nothing that has ever come out of Taehyung’s mouth has been that funny.

“You are the one that said she needed more frien—”

“Not men,” Yoongi cuts his friend off, “and not Kim Taehyung.”

“Sounds sexist.”

“So be it.”

“I never knew you to be a jealous person.”

“It’s Kim Taehyung.”

“And?”

“You know how he is.”

“Wow, you really are jealous.”

Yoongi can only offer up a grunt. It was hard enough for him to accept your friendship with notorious flirt Park Jimin—the Wednesday afternoon lunches still bothering him more than they should, in spite of the continuously observed innocence of them. At least Jimin was mostly harmless; the same could not be said for Taehyung. The artist’s penchant for sleeping with married women was a well known fact in their social circle. The fact that you weren’t openly disgusted by his antics only caused Yoongi more discomfort. How could you not see that he was disingenuous?

“Do you want me to send Hana in there to stop it?” Namjoon asks, but he just shakes his head. You were still uncomfortable with Namjoon’s wife and her interference would only make things worse.

Suddenly, you turn your head and point to Yoongi with a bright smile, waving quickly when you make eye contact with him. Taehyung watches the small interaction with a smirk on his face, leaning in to whisper something in your ear that has you readily agreeing.

“Here comes trouble,” Namjoon murmurs quietly, putting on a delighted face as you and Taehyung begin to make your way over. Yoongi couldn’t be bothered to fake pleasantries like Namjoon, though he did feel a small wave of calm wash over him as you thread your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder and whispering a small “hi” in his ear.

“Well hello again, old friends,” Taehyung starts, deep voice the very definition of cool. “I hope you don’t mind me intruding on your conversation.”

“Not at all,” Namjoon responds for them both.

“I’m actually over here to ask you a question,” he says, staring at Yoongi. You let out a small laugh in his ear, unintentionally setting off warning signals that whatever Taehyung was about to say was not going to be good.

“Let’s hear it,” Yoongi states dryly.

“Well I personally think your lovely wife would be a fantastic addition to the project I’m currently working on, but she seems to think I need to run it by you firs—”

“Correction,” You cut him off, though in a tone that is much more gentle than Yoongi thinks Taehyung should be afforded. “I told him that you would have to approve of it and that I didn’t think you would. He thinks you can be convinced.”

Yoongi shifts to look at you more clearly, a single eyebrow raising in question. The last time you properly asked him for permission to do anything was when he first gave you his American credit card; you hesitantly called him while you were at work, standing outside of the club if the background noise was anything to go by. “The straps on my favorite pair of pleasers broke… can I use your card to buy a new pair—”

“Buy whatever you want,” he responded.

“They can get kind of expensive, though.”

“Baby, I don’t even know what pleasers are. I gave you that card for a reason. Pay your rent, buy some lunch, buy the whole club if you want to.”

“I don’t want the club, I want shoes,” you had said with a laugh.

“Just shoes? Hell, buy 5 pairs. Don’t ask my permission for silly shit.” So you took that statement as law, never asking his permission for anything again—until now.

“I think we can all appreciate the female form,” Taehyung said with a slight smirk, his eyes raking up and down your body just subtly enough that Yoongi would appear crazy for commenting on it. “My new project aims to highlight the beauty of the natural female form against the destructive forces of our world—floods, wildfires, pollution, and the like.”

“Interesting,” Namjoon remarks quietly, tone even enough to appear as though he has no dog in this fight. However, they all know there is a reason Taehyung isn’t asking Namjoon’s wife to appear in such a project. “But based on our good friend’s hesitancy, there seems to be a catch. I can’t let my friends enter into bad contracts. What exactly would she be doing?” Taehyung’s smile is full blown now, eyes lighting up as he begins to describe his idea in detail; and while it takes a good three minutes for him to get through the entire concept, Yoongi only hears three things clearly: pole dancing, nude, and fire.

“Absolutely not,” Yoongi almost barks out, finding it hard to control himself at the thought of Taehyung seeing you completely nude. It didn’t matter to him that more men than he could count had seen you naked countless times before; those men weren’t Taehyung. He would rather die than let Taehyung anywhere near you nude. He barely liked him near you clothed.

“If it’s the fire you’re worried about, I promise I would keep her absolutely safe. I would never damage such beautiful art.” His words make Yoongi want to vomit. You and Namjoon laugh.

“No offense to your… art,” Yoongi states through gritted teeth. “But, I married her so that she wouldn’t dance for anyone else.” The statement wasn’t entirely untrue; while Yoongi didn’t have too much of a negative opinion on your dancing, you knew marrying him meant you had to stop. Therefore, you were confident in knowing exactly how he would react to such a request.

“Oh, well that’s unfortunate,” Taehyung murmurs specifically to you, a light frown on his face. “I was really looking forward to spending time with you on this project. I guess it’s just not in the cards for us at this moment. Perhaps another time?”

“Mm, perhaps.” You answer, a gentle smile on your face.

“Perfect. Oh, my darling I see some old friends I must say hello to. If you would excuse me,” Taehyung states with a quick bow to you before walking away.

You wait until he is out of earshot to mutter darkly, “What a creep.” Namjoon laughs out loud at your words, patting Yoongi on the back in a joyous manner.

“You have a good one.” Namjoon states. “Do you know how much he was freaking out over here?”

“I could see him.” You say, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek, causing him to grunt. “You know, you make a really funny face when you’re jealous. It’s kind of hilarious.”

“Stay away from Kim Taehyung,” he finds himself ordering.

You lean your head onto his shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m all yours.”

#bts scenarios #bts drabbles #suga scenarios #suga drabbles #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabbles #min yoongi scenarios #min yoongi drabbles #min yoongi #suga #AU: Fools Rush In #sailor belle writes #taehyung drabbles #namjoon drabbles

27 notes · View notes

pogaytosalad · 3 years ago

Text

Heres a wip of a sequel.

Dmviolence, by jade

Hello, if youre hearing this, it probably means im dead. Either that, or im alive and just got tired of keeping this hidden. You might remember my voice from a previous recording about a takeover in sector ⬽:➻, in which id helped prevent total annihilation of the sector. At the time i was unnamed, however now you may call me Kalton. After the takeover i resigned and moved to a job at a dmv. This planet was, for some reason, in one of the most tactically advantageous locations in the galaxy. And for some reason the higher ups dedicated the whole damn planet to dmvs. Dont ask why. Now, onto the story.

I woke up, and i put on my emerald green contact lenses. Just like any other day. I put on a basic white t-shirt and a leather bomber jacket along with a pair of jean shorts. If you cant tell by now, im gay.

I live in a small apartment. By small apartment i mean a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen all crammed into 2 rooms. I hopped out the bedroom window onto my motorcycle. It was a diamond white motorcycle with deep red stripes along the sides and the handlebars. My pride and joy. I put on my jet black helmet and took off towards my job at the, you guessed it, dmv.

Chapter 2

I pulled up in the parking lot and took off my helmet, my blue hair a total rats nest. The doors were push doors, yet i somehow ALWAYS pulled first. I entered the dmv and went to my station. A few hours passed by and no one had come in yet, which was unusual. So naturally i decided to sit down on the floor, put in my earbuds, and enjoyed some heavy metal. A few more hours passed by, and usually by now i wouldve been yelled at by my boss. This struck me as odd so i stood up. I really wish i hadnt stood up. The place had been completely destroyed. There were drop pods crashed in through the roof and they all had the ERGON logo on them. Ergon was a multi trillion dollar pencil manufacturing company with its own military. They had previously tried to take over sector ⬽:➻ when i had been working there. I was not looking forwards to what was about to happen.

Quickly, i ducked back onto the floor before anyone saw me. There were 4 riot soldiers holding this building. This was gonna be fun. The riot soldiers are your stereotypical riot gear and police baton soldiers. But these guys had laser batons and the riot gear gave them heightened strength and speed. They also had some, dare I say, shitty energy pistols. I crawled over to one of the soldiers who wasnt being watched and broke their neck. Carefully I took the baton and the pistol. Slowly crawled my way back to my station and checked the shot count in the pistol. I had 6 shots, just enough to take care of the remaining three soldiers. I stood up quickly and shot each soldier twice in the head. First shot to open the riot helmet, second shot to kill. I vaulted over the counter and grabbed the three pistols. These things were so stupid. You couldnt even remove the clips. Once you ran out of shots, the pistol was useless. Nonetheless, i didnt have any choice. I had a laser baton and 18 total shots in 3 pistols.

Upon leaving the building, my motorcycle was one of the few things to survive. It had alot of scratches and damage, but it still worked. The helmet was shattered however. I mounted the motorcycle and took off towards the next closest dmv. Maybe id find some better gear there.

Chapter 3

Pulling up next to the second dmv i immediately noticed 3 things. 1: there was blood everywhere. 2: there were 25 soldiers here. And 3: they all had energy weapons. The reason these things are relevant is because energy weapons dont cause bloodshed. This was the result of something else. Something new i hadnt dealt with yet.

I drove up and ran over 5 of the soldiers. This was probably an incredibly bad idea, seeing as i had 18 shots, enough for 9 kills, and there were 20 soldiers left. Every single soldier turned to me and i, being the absolute genius that i am, welded the front of one of the pistols shut with the laser baton, shot it off, and threw it into thei crowd of soldiers. It exploded, releasing a shockwave of energy and disabling the soldiers. I then used the baton to cut through the riot gear and kill the soldiers. I felt like a badass. That is until a mechanical looking wolf jumped at me and started trying to rip my face off.

The wolf was a frostwolf, except it had been placed into a mechanical frame and its teeth and claws had been replaced with lasers. I tried to bash it off of me with the baton but it just bit it in two. This gave me just enough time to grab an energy pistol and shoot the wolf. It kept trying to kill me amd i wasted a whole clip on it until suddenly, the dog started to levitate in the air and got thrown aside into a wall. I got up and was instantly frozen in place. Thats when.. she walked up.

Chapter 4

The she i am reffering to is ebony. A goth/punk wannabe with light blue tear shaped eyes and black hair with purple streaks. Shes a bitch whos mind got too powerful and now she can move things without touching them. Shes been chasing me for months. Not in a murderous way. Shes just obsessed with me. Ive tried to tell her im gay but she wont listen. And now im at her mercy.

She walked up to me and kissed me on the cheek. I hated it. She looked as if she was contemplating whether or not to free me when a pod came down from the sky and crushed her. Thank god. But i honestly wouldve rathered suffered at her hand than deal with what i had to deal with next...

Out of the pod came the warden. The goddamn warden from sector ⬽:➻. Last id seen him hed been in the same situation as ebony. Crushed to death under a pod. But this time, instead of being on my side, he was here to kill me. He was huge. Like seriously huge. He was at least 8 feet tall and shaped like gaston. Whos gaston? Nobody knows these days. But its basically a way to say "extremely buff and wide". Back to the story. The warden wasnt looking very good, considering the rotten skin, obviously quickly patched together face, and muscles hanging loose out of his skin. His rotting ruined body was held together by an exoskeleton of chromium-tungsten alloy. Nothing i had was gonna cut through that. I was gonna have to get creative here..

The warden had 2 weapons, both of them were his fists. Huge gauntlets that were each about the size of a cow. Definitely bigger than his previous set. They were a golden green metal i couldnt identify. But i didnt want to get hit with one to try and find out. I ran. I ran as fast i could run into the dmv and hid. I could hear the wardens footsteps. It was as if a small earthquake happened each time he took a step.

I peeked over the desk i was hiding behind and saw him punch through the 2 desks opposite to me. It took no effort and i couldve sworn i saw him smile. Obviously i didnt. Cause he didnt have a mouth anymore. But if he did, he definitely wouldve smiled. I took a shot to get his attention and ran off towards the wall. The warden was definitely faster than i expected.

Luckily i managed to dodge the blow by a centimeter. The metal smelled of decaying flesh and popcorn. The wardens blow punched a huge hole in the wall. I hope you see where im going with this.

I ran off to another wall and we repeated this same process a number of times until the building was barely still up. I ran out the doors and threw the baton at the last of the supports, cutting through it and causing the building to collapse in on the warden. He wasnt getting out of that. I decided to search the rubble to see if i could find anything worth taking. I found a new baton, a flame rifle and a few more energy pistols.

The flame rifle was a very interesting design. The sides were painted jet black with flame decals scattered about. You could feel the heat on the inside and it made the gun warm to the touch. Comfortable to hold. Other than that though, it looked like an old fashioned 8.59mm sniper rifle. It had 4 shots remaining, so id have to use it sparingly.

I grabbed some scrap materials out of the rubble to make a holster for it and put it on my back.

The energy pistols just dangled from a keychain. The baton was simply turned off and placed through a hole in the back pockets of my shorts. I ran to my motorcycle and drove off, i needed to find out more. I had questions, and i had a sneaking suspicion that i knew where to find the answers.

I drove off again, i was dirty and there was blood on me and my bike. I probably looked like a serial killer. But i knew that if anyone was still alive, itd be jayden. They were.. well. They were a vampire. They lived in a swampland area and wore sparkly rainbow shirts and a huge sunhat. The sunhat allowed them to go outside in the sun, and they only drank coconut water. They also had a crazy amount of weaponry and used to work at ergon, before being fired for stealing weaponry. By the way, if you havent noticed by now, im using they/them to refer to jayden. Jayden doesnt have a gender. Jayden.. is kind of my crush. It probably has something to do with the fact that theyre the only person on this planet who talks to me. Other than ebony.. but ebony is... not my type i guess. Anyways, back to jayden. Jayden was on the roof of their swamp shack drinking coconut water out of a wine glass. I yelled up at them and they fell off the roof onto my back. I guess i cushioned their fall. Jayden immediately said "What do you need dear" without waiting for me to stand up, and shattered the wine glass. I informed them of the situation and asked the questions i had. Things like "what are the ergon soldiers defences like on their ships" and "how did they reanimate the warden" they had answers.

Jayden told me about the new security measures that had been put in place since id last been on an ergon ship. There was now a code for each teleportation pod and the gaurds had doubled. As for the warden, it turns out jayden was actually the first test run in reanimation sciences, and couldnt answer me because they had been unconcious in a lab when the warden was reanimated. That explained the vampire undead thing. Jayden invited me into the shack where they pulled a nail out of the floorboards and it turned into a ramp to the basement. Down in the basement? Thats where jayden kept their weapons they stole. And boy oh boy were there some interesting ones.

One that immediately caught my attention was the big rocket launcher. It had 3 barrels and each was a different colour, indicating a different effect. One was red, one was yellow, and one was green. The red barrel fired a normal explosive rocket, the yellow barrel fired an electromagnetic pulse rocket, and the green barrel fired an acidic explosive. And the launcher shrunk down to the size of an energy pistol when a button was pressed. It gathered up dirt and dust and garbage around it from the back to quickly convert into ammo but the only downside is that it would be difficult to use more than once in an area.

Jayden picked out an old shotgun. At first i didnt understand why, but then they loaded the clip. The clip was a huge drum that loaded in the bottom of the barrel. The drum was see through and inside you could see sawblades lined up side by side. When they pumped the shotgun a blade got lifted into a slot between the 2 shotgun barrels and started glowing red. When the trigger was pulled, the blade spun at high speeds and fired out of the slot, spinning along the ground like a wheel. It could cut through anything a baton could cut through and seemed to almost follow its target. The gun itself looked like an DP-12, except behind the pump, a large clear drum full of sawblades was in place. The blade sat between the barrels in place of the iron sights and got heated up by an electrical circut.

I also took a laser sword instead of my baton, it was just like the one that [3825968] had, except this one was about an inch longer. The final weapon i took was an acid thrower. It was basically just a watergun with acid in it. Ive always been partial to acidic weapons. If youve heard my other story, youd know why..

Jayden also took a submachine gun that fired freezing rounds. The rounds were essentially glorified waterballoons with liquid nitrogen in them. Though the rounds were bullet sized, enough shots from it would certainly freeze you in place. The freeze gun was about the size of the average human head, and was painted navy blue with blue saphire stripes placed along it. We both left the shack, me with my sword and jayden with a wine glass. We were ready to kick ass and put a stop to this.

We left and immediately both got flung into some trees. Guess who it was. It was ebony. Her body had been found and reanimated. I was starting to see a pattern. And now we had to fight the telekinetic who could kill us with a wave of her hand.

She was levitating. Her eyes were glowing red and her hair was floating in the air. She had a smile of someone about to rip your arms off and beat you with them. I tried to take a shot at her but my hand got knocked aside by an invisible force. So i tried the next best thing. Seduction. Fake seduction. Hopefully the whole dying and coming back from the dead thing didnt make her stop being weirdly obsessed with me.

While i faked surrender and complimented ebony and attempted to seduce her, jayden took aim of their ice gun and shot a burst at ebonys right arm. The arm froze in place and shattered. Hopefully that would lower the strength of her telekinetic abilities. It did. But only by about half. Which meant jayden got thrown into the air as i tried to discreetly unholster my acid gun. It wasnt discreet enough and the gun was knocked from my hand.

The gun flew forwards and the impact of hitting the ground set it off for a second, just enough to spray an acidic burn through her arm. Incapacitating her. Jayden ended up sneaking up behind her and impaling her through the skull with the shattered end of their wine glass. Finally ebony was dead for good.

The acid gun was busted, so we had to leave it behind. We got onto my motorcycle and took off towards my apartment building. We would need food if we were going to be traveling. An apartment complex would probably be full of foods, and alot of dead people who wouldnt care if we took some stuff.

#writing #scifi #fantasy violence

1 note · View note

geewithluv · 5 years ago

Text

ESOTERIC [two]

ESOTERIC: intended for or likely to be understood by only a small number of people with a specialized knowledge or interest.

The ins and outs of the prominent gang, Bangtan, can seem esoteric to the general population that is most affected by their actions.

Ｓｙｎｏｐｓｉｓ： ❝ Jimin is going to take over Bangtan after Hitman falls ill. Not feeling confident that Jimin is ready, Hitman pulls in the pacifistic daughter of a (now deceased) close associate. Kit hasn’t been around Bangtan for years, but now she’s forced to in order to help the remaining members of her family. ❞

Ｐａｉｒｉｎｇ：Jimin x Female OC (ft. the rest of BTS, Bang PD, members of Seventeen & BlackPink)

Ｇｅｎｒｅ：mafia!au, some fluff & some angst

Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ： cursing, death from illness, mentions of death by gun violence, anxiety attack

ＷｏｒｄＣｏｕｎｔ：4k

ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ [part one]

Kit woke up later than she would have preferred. As much as she tried to keep her sleep schedule consistent no matter when she was working, her body always seemed to betray her wishes for a stable sleep cycle. With a yawn, she stumbled into her kitchen, turning the TV on as she passed it. “I could’ve sworn I bought more tea.” Kit grumbled to herself as she glared at the empty glass jar that should contain packets of teabags. But not a single packet sat in that jar, not even the tea she had disliked but kept around for when she had seemingly forgotten her addiction-esque need for the beverage.

“Late last night popular restaurant, Ossu Seiromushi, went up in flames and the local fire department is still trying to contain the situation. The cause is currently unknown. Please be sure to avoid 4th street during your morning commute as it will be blocked off while firefighters attempt to control the blaze.”

Kit hated the morning news anchors voice but this time she let herself drown in the soundwaves coming from her television. She rubbed any remaining sleep from her eyes to look at the video playing and the headline written in the bold black text at the bottom of the screen. “Holy shit.” She whispered as she realized she wasn’t dreaming. The restaurant is burning to the ground. Bangtan’s restaurant. Who knew what else was in there besides food and very expensive cutlery?

“There’s at least a 5 grand in cash currently taking its final form as a pile of ashes on the damn floor! That’s not even mentioning all the other shit that’s gone because of this! I don’t know if I should hope everything in there is completely burned beyond recognition because the last thing we need is a federal investigation.” Jimin paced around the spacious office in the Bangtan estate. It’s not even 7:30 A.M. and they’re already being reminded that they’re sustained by crime. Taehyung holds the firm belief that it’s much more of a 10 A.M. reminder.

“Who the hell set Ossu Seiromushi on fire?” Yoongi was hardly awake, trying not to completely slump over in the cushioned armchair.

Namjoon speaks up. “No one knows if it was even set on fire or if it just--”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” Jimin is quick to cut him off. “We all know a fully up-to-code and functional restaurant doesn’t just start randomly burning to the ground at 2 A.M..” The shrill sound of his cell phone ringing makes Jimin groan as he presses the green button. “What is it?”

“I know it’s 7 in the morning, but would it kill you to sound a little more pleasant?” Kit’s voice came through the other line as Jimin sits down in the leather chair behind the large custom wooden desk. “What the hell is going on at the restaurant?” Kit continued realizing Jimin wasn’t going to answer her remark.

“You tell me. Seokjin, Jungkook, and Hoseok are there now waiting for an answer.” Jimin glides his hand across the sleek surface as Yoongi, Taehyung, and Namjoon watch him intently. “You’re only a few blocks over aren’t you? You didn’t hear or see anything?”

“A few blocks is pretty far, Jimin.” Kit scoffed. “And I didn’t because I was sound asleep at 2 A.M.. Some of us have actual jobs that require us to have a schedule and--”

“Save your 8 to 10 hours and circadian rhythm rant. I’m coming over.” Jimin stood up, making the three other men jump up as Jimin yanked open a desk drawer, grabbing a few things and shoving them in various pockets.

“You absolutely are not! What makes you think that you can just come over whenever you feel like it?” Kit huffed, Jimin smirked imagining her practically stomping around her apartment trying to put things away and ‘clean up’ for him despite her apartment being cleaner than any private residence he had ever been to.

“The fact that you’re a few blocks away from where I need to be right now, the fact that I won’t take no for an answer and the overwhelming fact that you only pretend to be annoyed when I invite myself over.” Jimin grabbed his car keys as he left the office. “You guys stay here, wait for the others to give word. If anything happens, call me. ASAP.” Jimin pointed at the three men who were silently hoping he stayed a little longer so they could hear more of his conversation with Kit. How often did he go over to see her anyway? Nevertheless, the slam of the front door shutting, meant they weren’t going to get any more information.

“Think they’re fucking?” Yoongi crossed his arms before slumping back in the armchair, he runs his fingers through bleach blonde strands of hair falling into his heavy eyes.

“Kit? Having casual sex? Didn’t think you were a comedian.” Taehyung laughed.

“Maybe it’s not so casual.” Namjoon suggested with a shrug, sitting across from Yoongi.

“You think Jimin’s going to commit to one pussy?” Yoongi moved one of his rings around his finger, a pathetic attempt to stay distracted from sleep calling his name.

“Maybe, he’s gotta mature if he’s going to run this thing.” Namjoon was correct but no one would admit that it would eventually become time for Jimin to really commit to leading, and that meant he needed to think more about everything he did. Every decision could be life or death for over a dozen people.

No one wanted to think about that.

“You’re obviously sleep deprived.” Taehyung snickered.

Kit and Jimin stand in her bedroom looking out the window. They were able to see smoke rising just off in the distance.

“How much do you think you guys lost?” She asked after a few minutes of standing in silence.

“We. You’re in this thing too, even if you refuse to say it aloud.” He glanced over at her quickly before he cleared his throat. “In dollars, we’ve lost 10 grand at the very least. Probably much more. A new shipment just came in.”

“Is Jin okay? I know he really loved it. Front for deals or not. It was still a working restaurant.” Jimin nearly winced, she was too nice. He worried about it being a downfall. He also winced as he realized that he had not even thought to ask Jin how he felt.

“He’ll get over it. He can’t afford to dwell. None of us can. We found out who did it, we make them pay, we move on.” He stated simply. Kit turned on her heel to face him. “Don’t look at me like that.” Jimin sighed.

“Like what? Like I don’t want anyone to get hurt?” Her dark eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t look at me like you think you can stop me from doing what I have to do. Don’t look at me like you think I’m better than this.”

“You are better than this, though. You don’t have to hurt anyone.”

“How can you think the world is so simple, kitten?” Jimin turned to face her. “You’re so…” he trailed off, thinking for a moment as a hundred words to describe her flood his brain and threaten to pour out his mouth, “optimistic.”

“Maybe you’re just a pessimist.”

A flicker of a smile as he looks into her eyes. “Maybe.” He let out a deep breath. “I don’t know how the hell you’re going to handle this shit. This is light work.”

“I can handle a whole lot more than you’d think.” Kit looked at the ground, her hair falling into her face. There’s an implication that doesn’t get to be addressed as the ding of Jimin’s phone fills the otherwise silent room.

“I need to get back, you coming?”

“You know I don’t like--” Kit cuts herself off, something in my mind tells her to go against the usual. “Yeah. I’ll come.” She said. Jimin raised an eyebrow in surprise as she grabbed a pair of shoes.

Kit finds the meetings to be more than boring. They’re worse than the ones at the hospital when the protocol changes. So, instead, she finds something else to do. Usually opting to clean up around the large home since the guys won’t do it themselves and had apparently had a recent bad experience with a cleaning crew. So they’ve settled for hardly cleaning.

She hummed softly to herself as she passed the master bedroom, well, almost passed it. She had become used to passing it and hearing the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the IV drips.

Nothing.

Complete and utter silence as she walked by except for her own mindless humming. She felt a sinking feeling, the same one that made her stop working the ICU and Trauma floors at the hospital. The feeling of knowing that it’s over. She knows, she knows before she actually knows, before she opened the door and stood in the room and looked at the heart monitor that had been unplugged by the man who wanted to spend his final moments in silence. She couldn’t blame him, who would want to die having to hear their heart slow to a stop.

She knew he was dead before she saw all these things. She had known it was coming. Everyone knew it was coming. She didn’t even like the man all that much. She had blamed him for years for the way her life had played out. But she still found herself on the floor and a scream leaving her body because it’s the only sound she could make before her face became drenched in wet sadness.

“Kit! Kit!” Her name is being called throughout the house as 7 men fear for the girl’s safety only to realize that she might be the safest she’s ever been. On the ground gasping for air as she sobs. Namjoon is the first one in the room before he calls out to the others. He knows there’s nothing to be done so he moves to Kit, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her up and out of the room as 6 other people run in.

“He’s dead!” She shrieked, thrashing around in the tall man’s arms as he takes her into the front of the house, nearly tossing her onto the sofa.

Jungkook and Hoseok don’t even enter the room, opting to stay in the doorway. They stared at the bed where the man who had controlled their entire lives, now lay lifeless.

Jungkook had never known a life that didn’t consist of being reprimanded and ordered around by Hitman Bang. Even in his final days, Jungkook still felt like the kid who nearly fell over the first time he shot a gun, not prepared for the recoil. Hitman had laughed before telling him he’d get used to it, stabilizing him, and making him shoot again.

Hoseok was well aware this time was coming, but it didn’t sink in until now that there wasn’t another option. And now it’s here, he’s too late to prepare for a reaction, so his body stills.

Yoongi chewed on his inner cheek, standing near the foot of the bed. “Fuck.” He mutters to himself, he’s pretty sure this is the first time he’s ever seen someone dead that wasn’t murdered or otherwise injured. And somehow, it hurt so much more knowing his own body did this to him. His body decided to kill him. The ultimate betrayal.

Taehyung leaves the room, pushing past Hoseok and Jungkook and walking until he gets to the living room. He pretended he wanted to help calm Kit down. But he really just couldn’t bear being in the room without vomiting.

Jimin and Jin stand on the side of the bed. Jimin starts casually dumping pill bottles and wrappings from needles filled with morphine into a nearby trash can. Jin tries to talk to him but Jimin quickly cuts him off. “It’s over. He’s dead. Now you can either help me clean this shit up or you can go call the morgue. One or the other. I’m in charge now.”

Jin decides to call the morgue, coming to the conclusion that Jimin needed that bit of time to himself. And honestly, Jin needed some distraction and a second to breathe fresh air.

Jimin takes Kit back to her house before anyone even shows up to remove the body. He claims it’s just so Kit doesn’t have to be there and watch. But it’s for his sake too, because he spends the rest of the day lying in her bed, holding her. Only moving to answer a few texts. “You can go home, Jimin.” She had told him more than a couple of times, only getting a hum of ‘I’m fine’ or some excuse in response. She doesn’t want him to leave, she finds resting her head on his chest with his arm around her to be more than comfortable, but she wants to keep enforcing the fact that he’s there because he wants to be in her bed cuddling her, not because he feels that he needs to be. So they held each other in her bed for hours, the television nearly muted. Only interrupted by two phone calls telling Kit that her mother was approved for transfer to the better hospital in the city and that her brother had a bed reserved for him in a rehab facility in Arizona.

Bang Sihyuk was a lot of things, but he was a man of his word.

“Go to sleep, kitten.” Jimin whispered just before 10 p.m., slowly rubbing her back. They had nearly finished a full season of Grey’s Anatomy.

“You need to sleep too.” She told him.

“I can handle myself.” Kit shifted her body, somehow moving even closer to him, resting a leg over his.

“It’s okay to be sad, you know? It’s normal to be upset. It’s not good for your mind to pretend you’re okay when you’re not.” She said softly, tracing the ink of his tattoo with her finger. He doesn’t respond, not sure what to say. She wasn’t really expecting a response anyway. “Goodnight, Jimin.” She presses a kiss to his shoulder.

“You don’t have to take me to work.” Kit said with a huff as she climbed into the passenger seat of Jimin’s car.

“You keep mentioning how long the walk from the hospital to the garage is. No telling who might be out there waiting for a pretty little thing like you to come walking all alone.” He started the car and drives out of the complex’s parking lot.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to leave so fast! The super already came to scold me, saying you’re gonna ruin the pavement.” Kit scolded. The pavement has been in dire need of repair but no one wanted to pay for it so the superintendent decided that suing would be the best way to collect money.

“I didn’t get a nice car and sit with Yoongi for a month to customize it so I could drive the speed limit.”

“You’re so annoying sometimes.” Kit rolled her eyes as Jimin laughed, resting a hand on her thigh. “I work a 12 today, are you gonna be able to get me?”

“Course I am, kitten. What do ya take me for?”

“A very busy man? Especially at 9 o’clock on a Friday night.”

“If you’re implying what I think you are, you’re wrong.” He slides his hand further up her leg before wrapping it back around the steering wheel. She doesn’t push further but has a soft smile on her face for the rest of the ride.

“Took you long enough, my god, thought some psycho patient got ahold of you.” Jimin turned the key as Kit starts buckling up.

“Sorry,” she whined, “you would not believe the shift I had. All to end with some 15-year-old telling me they went into cardiac arrest and I’m too stupid to figure it out.”

“Let me guess, she consulted doctor google?” He raised an eyebrow as he started driving.

“Isn’t it always?” Kit sighed as she leaned back in the seat. “What have you been doing?”

“Cleaning up the restaurant.” He stated, a curious hum leaves Kit’s body. “Well, hiring other people to do it and watching over them.”

“Did the police finally say it was arson?”

“Nope, they didn’t say anything. Made sure they didn’t.”

“Well, don’t you think the police should investigate?” Kit turned her body as much as she could to face him.

“Are you-- my god, you’re still so innocent.” Jimin kept his focus on the road, fearing what he’d do if he saw that innocent look in her brown eyes.

“I just don’t get it. If you can pay them to say it wasn’t arson, just pay them not to arrest you all.”

“It’s not that simple, babygirl.” Jimin sighed, thanking God that his phone happened to ding and end the conversation. “Shit, shit, shit.” He muttered reading the text.

“What is it? Jimin!” Kit nearly screamed as Jimin made a very illegal U-turn.

“These dumb fucks! I can’t leave them alone for an hour!” He slams his hand down on the edge of the wheel. He pulls into a dark street, stopping short of what seemed to be a warehouse.

“Where are we?” She looked around, unable to even figure out what street they were on.

“Just…” He huffed as he opened the door. “Just stay in the car.” He got out without another word, slamming the door shut, leaving Kit in a state somewhere between confusion and frustration and on the border of a panic attack as she sees him run around the corner of the building. She started hearing some yelling but she couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. She wanted to get out, be a little nosy, help in some way. But Jimin’s words rang in her head and the look on his face as he got the text, it was better to do as he said. This was confirmed when a loud pop hurt her ears. Then another, a couple of seconds later another pop. Her body stiffened and her eyes widened. She feared the worst. She wasn’t sure if Jimin was the cause of the gunshots or the recipient. She didn’t even know who else was there.

“Get in the fucking car!” A voice yells, managing to be so loud the soundwaves penetrate the car and she hears it clearly. She sees Jimin, Jin, and Jungkook run towards the car, she lets out a breath when she realizes they’re all fine, but she soon is filled with worry again as the guys scramble into the car. Jimin doesn’t say anything as he speeds out.

“What happened to you all?” Kit looks toward a panting Jin and Jungkook, realizing Jimin wasn’t going to say answer even if he could unlock his jaw for long enough to talk.

“Those dumbasses from Seventeen.” Jin groans. “They had a couple girls with them, didn’t even know they had girls in their gang!”

“I cannot believe you two almost got killed trying to get laid!” Jimin yelled and Kit thought she might not ever be able to hear properly again.

“Well not all of us can bang the only girl in our circle.” Jungkook attempted to defend himself. Kit stumbles over words for a moment before Jimin shoots him a glare in the rear-view mirror.

“I’m going to assume you said that out of agony and aren’t in a state to know better.” He growled. “Say that shit again and see if I don’t feed you back to Seungcheol.” For once, Kit is thankful for Jimin’s temper.

Kit is sat in the living room of the estate as the guys talk, knees up to her chest. Jimin is pacing, she wished he would pick another habit because it only made her more anxious.

“Maybe they’ll change their name to Sixteen.” Hoseok tried to lighten the situation with a joke.

“Fifteen.” Jin laughed.

“Nah, I heard Mingyu made it out. Probably wishes he didn’t.” Hoseok nudged Namjoon next to him as he laughed. But Namjoon isn’t listening. His attention was focused solely on Kit, he watched her expression change as the guys talked.

“Breathe, Kit.” Namjoon stood up, making his way toward the girl.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin stopped in his tracks, looking between Namjoon and Kit. Kit doesn’t speak, her chest raises and lowers rapidly.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Namjoon spoke calmly, knowing that if he worried it would only make her worse. He lowered to his knees in front of her. “Kit, Kit, look at me.” She grabbed hold on Namjoon’s hands as she looked into his eyes, anxiety clear on her face as her body shook with her breaths.

“Why is she having a panic attack?” Jimin rubbed his hands over his face. And why didn’t I notice before? He thought to himself.

“Is it because we talked about murdering the guys from Seventeen?” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows.

“Of course it’s because we mentioned how we killed someone, you idiot.” Taehyung snapped, making Kit sob loudly. Namjoon starts speaking softly to her.

“Everyone needs to leave right now.” Namjoon’s smooth voice replaces the murmurs.

“You don’t get to make the orders around here.” Jimin responded before glancing back over at Kit, her brown skin turning red as cries leave her mouth. Her hands moved to clench the fabric of her shirt. “Everyone out.” He nearly whispered. For a moment he’s not sure if anyone even heard him. But they soon start leaving. Namjoon gives a small smile to the leader as he follows behind them.

“You’re gonna be okay, everyone panicked a little at first.” Namjoon sat down beside Kit when the door closed. She didn’t respond, so he continued. “My girlfriend freaked out the first time I ever mentioned it.” He chuckled a little remembering that day. “I forget sometimes that my life isn’t normal.”

“You have a girlfriend?” Kit mumbled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. Namjoon nodded, a big smile on his face that helped calm her.

“Yeah, I do. That’s usually why I’m not here. I’d much rather spend my time reading in her living room than taking orders from Jimin.” He said, getting a soft giggle from Kit.

“He’s a little bossy sometimes.” She said, looking up at him. Her body was still shaking a little, her breathing not quite steady but she seemed to be calming.

“He is, he means well though. You don’t have to keep doing this, staying here and helping out. Jimin’s got it covered. Hitman just wasn’t sure he could.” Namjoon explained. He was sure it wasn’t her first panic attack steeming from the gang and it probably wouldn’t be her last.

“I’m not sure he really does have it covered.” Kit sniffled, Namjoon raised his eyebrows, motioning her to explain. “The amount of times I’ve talked to him about his concerns over a situation means he’s not sure. I’ve calmed him down way too many times. He won’t even admit that he’s worried, he doesn’t want anyone to know. But I know.”

“Well… then... I’m glad you’re helping.” Namjoon was a little shocked. He, for once, wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Maybe I could link you up with my girl. You guys could talk about how dumb we all are.” He placed a hand on her shoulder as Kit nodded giving him a smile before she wrapped her arms around him.

“Thanks, Joonie.” He pulled her closer into him, the nickname warmed his heart in a way he couldn’t explain. He hadn’t heard it in a while, not since Kit left Bangtan years ago. It was a stark contrast from the harsh yell of ‘Namjoon’ he had become used to.

“Anytime.” He whispered.

End of Part Two. I’m going to try and get this up once a week by the way! Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think?

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts reaction #bts scenario #btswriterscollective #bangtanhq #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagine #my writing

4 notes · View notes

wherethewindtakesher · 5 years ago

Note

actually all qs cuz I wanna get to know u :) boink!

OF COURSE BOINK ANON!

I will be excluding the ones Ive done (:

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Wine glasses/water bottles c:

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? Bubblegum! im not really a big fan of cotton candy tbh.

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? for some reason, soda from plastic cups hit different 😞

7. earbuds or headphones? headphones in the winter, earbuds in the summer.

9. favorite smell in the summer? the smell of my oncoming de- the smell of flowers blooming.

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? it depends, some mornings I skip breakfast all together, others i’ll have a light snack, or I just have some cereal or make an egg.

12. name of your favorite playlist? ‘Recently added’

13. lanyard or key ring? landyard so I can find my keys easily. I still lose it tho-

14. favorite non-chocolate candy? spicy or sour candies are dope a f.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment? The first book I read that I actually enjoyed was twilight.

16. most comfortable position to sit in? with my legs w I d e open because I cant sit properly.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? my tan/floral converses.

18. ideal weather? cloudy, cold, and raining 😌.

19. sleeping position? on my stomach, leg raised to my abdomen while the other is in the open air, and hands underneath my pillow. the BEST.

21. obsession from childhood? picking my scabs-

22. role model? my mom and sisters.

24. favorite crystal? garnet. It’s also my birthstone! I have it as a gem for my class ring.

25. first song you remember hearing? “bidi bidi mom mom” by selena quintanilla.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather? if it’s not scorching hot, go on walks.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather? snuggle up in a blanket and watch movies.

28. five songs to describe you? ‘humble’ kendrick lamar, ‘cry baby’ melanie martinez, ‘stupid’ ashnikko, ‘paparazzi’ lady gaga, ‘or nah’ ty dollar $ign.

29. best way to bond with you? send me M E M E S-

30. places that you find sacred? my bed.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? ripped jeans, boots, a crop top, and a jacket.

33. most used phrase in your phone? fuck.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? that empire carpet wash commercial.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? DAT BOI.

37. suitcase or duffel bag? duffel bag.

38. lemonade or tea? how about both of them combined 😉.

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? I hate pie 🙊

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? someone brought a gun and it fell out of their backpack during 2nd period.

41. last person you texted? @caws5749

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? pants pockets. BUT THE DEEP ONES NOT THOSE SMALL FUCKING ONES.

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? hoodies or a bomber jacket.

44. favorite scent for soap? Lavender.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? superhero!

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? naked-

47. favorite type of cheese? queso fresco.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? mango.

49. what saying or quote do you live by? “im a bad bitch you cant kill me”

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? anytime my friends and I joke around.

51. current stresses? school, personal issues, and my NEW JOB THATS RIGHT YALL YO GIRL EMPLOYED.

52. favorite font? calibri.

53. what is the current state of your hands? kinda rough but smooth.

54. what did you learn from your first job? that people fucking suck.

55. favorite fairy tale? little red riding hood.

56. favorite tradition? eating tamales during christmas time.

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? that im not perfect, my flaws are just as beautiful as my perfections, and that im just ug-

58. four talents you’re proud of having? im not talented aT ALL. uh...

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? ‘let’s fuck ‘em up’

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? sasuke from naruto or mey-rin from kuroshitsuji.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? “see you in a minute”

62. seven characters you relate to? natasha, cristina yang, dexter, ford, thor, scott lang, and tony.

63. five songs that would play in your club? ‘bodak yellow’, ‘man of the year’, ‘rockstar’, ‘bickenhead’, ‘slumber party’.

64. favorite website from your childhood? I forgot the name but it was that educational site with the orange robot and human.

65. any permanent scars? my entire body is riddled in scars no joke.

66. favorite flower(s)? hibiscus and roses.

67. good luck charms? my dog’s name tag.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? onions-

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? that cracking your joints won't give you arthritis.

70. left or right handed? im mixed handed but I do the majority of stuff with my right.

71. least favorite pattern? plaid.

72. worst subject? MATH FJSKSJKFSJS I HATE IT.

73. favorite weird flavor combo? have yall tried chocolate milk with chicken nuggets-

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? 8-9 because I tend to fight back and not admit there is something wrong going on 😬.

75. when did you lose your first tooth? 2nd grade I believe.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? for some reason my love of tater tots has come back.

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? uh cacti?

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? coffee from a gas station cus im not trying to die-

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? oh man, I look like shit in both of them. School id.

80. earth tones or jewel tones? earth tones!

81. fireflies or lightning bugs? ive never seen either 😔.

82. pc or console? i’ve own consoles for most of my life.

83. writing or drawing? writing. I cant draw very well.

84. podcasts or talk radio? podcasts! I listen to ‘last podcast on the left’.

84. barbie or polly pocket? barbies! did anyone make their barbies have sex or was it just me-?

85. fairy tales or mythology? mythology. yall don't know this but I have fallen into the greek mythology rabbit hole-

86. cookies or cupcakes? I fuck heavy with cupcakes TILL THIS DAY.

87. your greatest fear? to see those I love die.

88. your greatest wish? to be happy.

89. who would you put before everyone else? myself.

90. luckiest mistake? guessing on a question and getting it right 😎.

91. boxes or bags? i’ll go with boxes. it makes everything easier to stack and organize.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? fairy lights are so pretty.

93. nicknames? clown by @caws5749, bottom by @domromanoff, and variations of my real name.

94. favorite season? fall/winter TIMEEEEE.

95. favorite app on your phone? mario kart. if anyone wants to be friends give me your friend code-

96. desktop background? it’s black with a colorful smoke cloud exploding.

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized? mine and my oldest sister’s because she has had that same number since I was in the WOMB.

98. favorite historical era? I would say the WWII era since ive studied more about it than any other era.

UPDATE; this would've been done last night but my screen decided to just crash and not save anything I had done and my girl sent my ass to bed so I couldn't finish it but here ya go boink!

3 notes · View notes

doctor-spencer-ried · 5 years ago

Text

Just a Crush (IV)

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

Hanahaki Disease AU

Summary: You end up making a great discovery that pushes the case forward. Or at least, you think it will.

Warning: blood, illness

Masterlist ~ Part 4 (Word count: 1671)

A/N: My knowledge of behavioral analysis is limited to this show and my Forensic class, so there may be holes and incorrect analysis.

~~~

Sleep will help. You’ll get some sleep and then wake up ready to work. No problem. That’s all you need. It’s just a cough after all.

It’s not. You were wrong, so wrong.

You hands shake as you wipe at your lips, your chin, your cheeks. It doesn’t help, just smears the crimson across your pale skin. With labored breath, you look down towards the hotel sink. Blood drips down the white porcelain. Your blood. It pools in the basin.

Among the blood lies something that makes fear tingle through your heart. A single, delicate white rose petal. Its pure color is stained with that goresome crimson.

It was never supposed to happen to you. You've heard of the cases. It’s not rare, but also not common. You barely know anything about it, but you know it’s bad. Fatal.

It’s called Hanahaki Disease.

You shakily step out of the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Your entire body aches, your mind struggling to wrap around what is happening. Your legs give out from under you once you reach the bed. With a groan, you drag yourself to the middle of the mattress and curl up, arms wrapping around your stomach.

Anxiety overcomes you as your thoughts run rampant. What if you get fired? They could force you to leave the BAU until you get the issue under control. How do you even do that? You remember there’s some kind of surgery to cure it, but the repercussions were lengthy. You hadn’t bothered to read them.

You rub your eyes harshly, trying to banish the thoughts. You would rather focus on the cause.

Hanahaki disease, an illness caused by unrequited love.

You can’t brush it aside as a tiny crush now it seems. You almost want to laugh at the bitter fate life has planned for you. You pushed it aside every time, always dismissed the emotions that swelled in your heart at the sight of him.

Now you have to face it. It’s useless denying it.

You’re in love with Doctor Spencer Reid.

And he doesn’t love you back.

---

It’s the next day when the team comes to visit you. You cleaned the bathroom, getting rid of the evidence of your sickness, and did some research on it late into the night. A poor choice really, considering it made the dark circles under your eyes more prominent. Your really getting sick of the concerned looks they earn you, though.

“Why didn’t you go to the hospital, (l/n)?” Hotch asks from the foot of your bed, looking ticked, but yet again, that’s how he always looks.

“Because I’m fine,” you insist for the billionth time, blatantly lying through your teeth, “It was just all the fumes and stuff.”

“You had a panic attack, (y/n).” Forget you Morgan.

“Forgive me if the scene was a bit graphic for my tired mind,” you bite out sarcastically.

“I’m taking you off the case until you’re better.”

“What? No!” You protest, shooting up in your bed, “I’m the one who started the profile and research on this case! I’m not dropping it because of a little cough!”

You know you shouldn’t question him, but even the heat of Hotch’s glare can’t make you back down. There’s no way on earth you're letting him take you off the case.

“(Y/n), just listen to him, you need to get better,” Emily tries to reason with you.

“No,” you’re stubbornness flares up, “We’re close to getting this guy, I can feel it!” Your turn to Hotch, “I swear I’m feeling fine! Whatever was bugging me is gone, it won’t get in the way of work again. Please Hotch, I’ll take a sick break when we finish or something.”

Your begging seems to work because Hotch lets out an exasperated sigh. A small grin of victory forms on your lips.

“Fine.” He budges. “But you need to take the rest of today off and recover. You can come back tomorrow.”

“Thank you!” You resist the urge to fist pump the air.

Hotch shakes his head with a fond smile, “Come on, let’s go and let her rest.”

As they’re about to leave you call out for Emily to wait a moment. Something has been nagging at you the past few minutes, like an itch of awareness that scratches at your lungs.

“Where’s Spencer?” You had noticed as soon as they entered that the young doctor was absent.

She raises an eyebrow at you, lips pursed before she replies, “He’s talking to the first victims’ parents. He thought it might be possible that the unsub has a connection to his first victims.”

You nod your head. Of course Spencer would think of that. The first victims may have been old friends of his and they could have been his stressor.

“He and J.J. went there an hour or so before we came here.”

He’s with JJ? Something bitter rises in your throat as you lean back against the headboard. Of course he would be. He’s always around her. Of course he chose to go do that instead of visit you.

“Thanks Em, see you tomorrow.” Your words come off distant, but she seems to get that you want to be alone now.

After wishing you a good day, she leaves. The room falls into silence.

You sigh and close your eyes. The other day you thought you had a moment. You felt so close to him and you thought he may have, for just a smidge of a moment, felt the same. But you guess not. He'll never see you like that. He’ll only ever see you as a little girl, a little sister, who cannot take care of herself and needs constant protection.

It takes a moment to realize that a tear has made its way down your cheek. You wipe at it hastily.

Blinking away the remaining moisture in your eyes, you make up your mind that you need to get out of this small room. You need fresh air to clear the fog from your lungs. Forget resting. You need to breathe and this room is suffocating.

After grabbing your bag, you quickly make your way down the stairs and out of the hotel. You barely register where you are going, too focused on the crisp evening wind that hits you. It helps erase the thoughts that plagued you moments before. Your feet lead you down the sidewalk aimlessly, which doesn’t concern you in the least. Sometimes it’s nice to just walk without a destination in mind.

---

You take a moment to stare at the building in front of you. Why would you come here of all places? What part of your subconscious thought it would be funny to lead you here?

The greenery from the third set of murders stands in front of you, shimmering glass and all. It sits almost peacefully among the trees and brush. You know there is nothing peaceful about it though. Days ago it was filled with screams and cries of agony and fear.

With a deep breath, you take the remaining steps to the smashed door. You might as well take another look since your here. Hotch is going to kill you, but you really can’t seem to care at this point.

You open the door and slip inside.

The light is softer here, filtered through the green panes of glass that make up the cylindrical building. You bask in the warmth of the room for a moment before you begin walking between the isles. Each is filled with flowers, exploding from the pots and filling the room with color.

You used to love flowers. Their grace and beauty always enamored you as a child. You remember how you used to prance around with a flower crown on your head and a giant smile plastered on your face. It seems cruel that that part of you could be stripped away by this sickness.

Your steps slow when you reach the back room. It’s only a small moment of hesitation though. You step in, holding you breath as your eyes flicker to the blood stained floor. Flashes of the lastest scene flicker through your head. You force them away. You need to keep a clear mind if you’re going to look for something new. Last time you were razor focused on the chairs, the door, the drag marks. You didn’t bother to look around the rest of the room and perhaps the police made the same mistake. There has to be something else here.

The room seems simple, organized. The unsub probably didn’t touch anything if he didn’t find it necessary. In fact, he seems to have kept the chairs as far away from the wall of young flowers as he could. Strange.

You run a finger along a wilting petal of one of the flowers. The other plants all seem healthy, as if they've been watered, likely by the granddaughter, but these are dying. She probably can’t stand coming back here.

You shake your head. Not pertinent to the case.

Your eyes lazily trace over all the shelves to look for something, anything you could have missed before. It seems hopeless. Everything is absolutely normal. That is, until your eyes trail along the bottom shelf and catch a glimpse of something...different.

You immediately drop to your knees, hands shuffling to shove the small pots aside. It’s buried between them near the back of the shelf, but impossible to miss if you look.

A single, white tulip with wilting petals rests on the wooden shelf. Your fingers tremble as you pick it up and bring it closer to your face.

Blood.

Speckles and splotches of blood coat the pure petals of the flower. You lean back on your feet, excitement rushing through you.

Finally! You finally have a piece of evidence that can lead you to the unsub! It all makes sense now, why he killed them.

The grin on your face slowly fades the more you think about it.

He has hanahaki disease. Just like you.

He’s suffering. Just like you.

He’s devolving because he’s dying.

….Just like you.

Part 5

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #x reader #reader #reader insert #hanahaki #hanahaki disease #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan

16 notes · View notes

doctortreklock · 6 years ago

Text

I’ve Been a Fool and I Have Been Blind - February 20, 2019

Part of my Resolution19. Read it on AO3.

Prompt: Phil goes on five dates...and marries the man of his dreams (summary of x - title x)

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Words: 3665

"You need to get out more," Nick informed him flatly.

Phil scowled. A little. With a twitch of his right eyebrow. "Just because I leave the office before 8 once or twice a quarter does not mean I have time to date," he told his best friend flatly.

Nick blinked his eye once, attempting to make it look casual, but Phil knew he was surprised. "When was the last time you got laid, Cheese?"

Phil's entire face scowled this time. "None of your damn business, Marcus."

Fury whistled. "A while then."

Phil huffed out a breath and settled back into the chair across from the Director's desk. "I need a drink," he admitted, loosening the knot of his tie an imperceptible amount. He paused, then loosened it several inches more.

Nick frowned in concern and pulled a bottle of scotch and a pair of glasses out of the bottom right drawer of his desk. He poured them both a finger, then - when Phil's eyebrow glared balefully at him - added two more to the senior agent's glass. He slid it across the desk towards Phil. "You need a date," he countered.

Phil snorted and snatched the glass from the edge of the desk before draining half of it in one go and sighing deeply as he relaxed further into the recesses of the chair. "And where do you suppose I go about finding one of those?" he asked. His tone was flippant and casual, but he kept his gaze fixed on the amber liquid he swirled in the glass.

Nick retreated back into his own chair and sipped his scotch before humming in consideration. "You could go somewhere new and see who you find there," he offered.

Phil's mouth twisted. "And where am I going to find the time to go to new places?" he snapped. "Barton and I have a mission in Chile tomorrow."

Fury smiled enigmatically. "I'm sure you'll think of something," he drawled.

The "new places" thing Nick had come up with had absolutely not worked.

Phil had ventured to a new coffee shop the next morning and had doggedly attempted to "see who he found there." What he'd found were co-eds, failed screenwriters, and a hoard of busy businesspeople, none of whom gave more than a passing glance to a balding, middle-aged man in a suit.

There had been one woman there who had given him the half-interested once-over that had defined his social life to date. His dating history skewed male, but he had dated one or two women before (he considered himself a solid Kinsey 5), so that wasn't necessarily a deal-breaker. He had smiled and she had blinked, then returned it. He had flirted and she had responded and he had asked if she wanted to get a drink sometime. She had looked at him appraisingly and had agreed and they had set a time for drinks three days later. Phil had made his excuses and hurried back to HQ so he could get on a plane to South America.

Evac had been scheduled for thirty-six hours after they arrived in Chile. Phil's drinks date with Susan had been scheduled for seventy-four hours after they arrived in Chile.

Thirty-nine hours after they arrived in Chile, Phil successfully rescued himself and his bleeding sniper from the clutches of the local cartel. Forty-three hours after they arrived in Chile, they finally made it to the secondary evac point. At fifty-seven hours, Clint was safely ensconced in medical. At fifty-eight hours, Phil settled himself, his work tablet, and his book next to his agent's bedside for the long-haul. At fifty-nine hours, Phil started enumerating to his unconscious agent all the reasons why a, Phil had never been to South America, and b, why Phil would never go to South America again, complete with addendum c, why Clint would never be allowed to return to South America on his watch. At sixty-one hours, Clint woke up from his medically drugged sleep and shot a sleepy smile at his handler before falling unconscious again. At sixty-five hours, Clint woke up again and told Phil that he needed to go lay down before he fell down and get some honest-to-god sleep. At sixty-six hours, Phil flopped down on the couch in his office and fell instantly asleep.

Seventy-eight hours after they arrived in Chile, Phil blinked himself awake, yawned drowsily, checked the time on his phone, groaned in realization, and gave up on the whole date as a bad idea.

But now that Nick had gotten the idea of dating stuck in his head again, Phil found it was remarkably difficult to shake loose. Every time he thought about it, though, it got more and more terrifying.

"Do you know how many people there are in New York?" Phil demanded. "How are you supposed to find someone it might work out with from a pool of 8.6 million? And that's just limiting it to one city! There is a literal world of possibilities."

Jasper ignored him and poked around in his cheesy fries for the one with the most bacon on it.

"I'm serious," Phil told him, kicking him lightly under the table. "Jasper."

His friend sighed and abandoned his quest. "Phil, most of the people in New York are too old, too young, seriously taken, or not attracted to your gender," he explained flatly. "Your eligible dating pool is much smaller than you think."

Phil groaned and buried his face in his hands. Jasper selected the nearest fry with at least two pieces of bacon on it. With the rate Phil was going, they would all be cold before he got a chance to finish if he persisted in sorting through them.

Before his friend could have the uncharacteristic meltdown that Jasper could see brewing (and that would subsequently ruin his chances for even semi-warm fries), he tossed out a suggestion. "Try finding someone you have something in common with and start there."

"Maybe," Phil said, his voice muffled by his hands. Jasper shrugged and ate another fry.

His name was Marco, and he owned a complete run of 1975-78 "Captain America's Howling Commandos" kids magazines, complete with tear-out trading cards.

They had met once briefly at a convention in '07 and had frequented the same forums for a decade. Phil had first noticed Marco when he had written a long, well-annotated post about Peggy Carter's role in the formation of modern intelligence agencies and had cited three of Phil's own posts on the subject. One comment led to another and the two had kept up an amicable, if casual, relationship since. It wasn't more than a half-dozen conversations a year about collectibles that popped up on the market and the rudeness of some of the new Cap fans, but it was some form of human interaction outside of work.

Phil had carefully considered Jasper's words, and had brought up the idea of coffee with Marco. The other man had seemed open to the idea, so the conversation had proceeded to planning. Marco consistently had time Tuesday mornings and Thursday evenings, but Phil was usually on the practice range with Clint Tuesday mornings and they usually watched new episodes of Dog Cops Thursday nights. Marco had some time next week, but Strike Team Delta was going to be in Pakistan. Phil could have an evening two weeks after that, but Marco had a work conference.

After two months of conflicting schedules and last-minute cancellations, they quietly and mutually agreed that it was best to just ignore the whole thing.

Melinda had no patience for any of Phil's whining today.

She rarely had patience for complaints from anyone except, on occasion, her boyfriend, but dear gods in heaven Phil Coulson was not usually this irritating.

After the fourth time she put him flat on the mat in fifteen minutes, she gave up on any hope of a good workout today.

"Try dating someone with a schedule as weird as yours," she snapped as she stalked out of the room, leaving Phil wincing on the mat behind her.

Chris was an FBI agent.

Phil's work was focused on international threats, with the occasional homegrown mad scientist. The FBI's jurisdiction was strictly domestic, which meant there wasn't much chance of conflict there. Between their schedules, the pair had only been on three dates in five months, but Phil still thought it was going well. Chris knew how to handle a firearm and one of their dates had been at a gun range, where Phil had shown off his aim with a sniper rifle and his date had shot increasingly tighter clusters of bullet holes into paper targets.

Chris was just beginning to break in a new promotion when Phil got called in to take care of an 084 in South Dakota. Chris had the same instructions and Phil didn't hesitate to go toe-to-toe with his datemate and ruthlessly exclude them and their team from the site with nothing more than a coolly raised eyebrow and a smug smirk.

Phil didn't hear from Chris again after that.

"Well," Maria said thoughtfully, sipping her coffee. "I think I know where you went wrong there."

"Please tell me," Phil said, staring morosely at his coffee mug. "I thought it was going well."

Maria snorted at that. "C'mon, Phil. Just because it hadn't been a train wreck didn't mean it was going well."

"I was having fun. I thought they were having fun." The coffee was still vaguely steaming. Phil wondered how hot it was.

She shook her head and pursed her lips at him. "How many dates did the two of you even go on?"

"Three," he said defiantly. It was more consecutive dates than he'd had with anyone since college. "One dinner, one movie, and one trip to a gun range."

"A gun range," she echoed.

"Yeah. Clint was showing me the--"

"I'm going to stop you right there," she interrupted him. "Did Chris actually want to go shooting?"

Phil frowned. "They weren't opposed to the idea."

She sighed. "Phil...maybe you need to be looking a little closer to home."

Now he was just confused. "Where? Like Manhattan?"

"Like SHIELD," she said pointedly.

Phil considered the idea. "Maybe. I'm pretty sure inter-agency cooperation is a myth, anyway."

He sipped his coffee. It was cold.

Phil carefully considered Maria's advice.

The problem with dating inside of SHIELD was that he was a senior agent with level 7 security clearance. There were perhaps a dozen people he could date without there being any potential for conflicts of interest or coercion. Noah Petersen was the head of SHIELD's financial division, overseeing budgeting, HR, and office management.

He was also gay.

It was late on a Friday when he knocked on Petersen's office door.

Petersen took one look at him and said "You better be here about next quarter's projected budgetary deficit, Coulson."

"Actually," Phil started smoothly, "I'm here to ask you to dinner."

"No," he said flatly, then went back to reading through the open file on his desk again.

Phil blinked. "May I ask why not?"

Petersen looked at Phil, sighed heavily, and rubbed the bridge of his nose before waving Phil in. "Let me explain something to you, Coulson. I have worked too hard to get where I am to play second fiddle to anyone. I won't date someone who's hung up on someone else, and trust me," he leveled a knowing look at Phil over his glasses, "you don't actually want me anyway."

"Chris and I weren't--"

But Petersen was waving off his excuse. "I'm not talking about you screwing so-and-so at the FBI," he said.

Phil was lost. "Then I have no idea what you're talking about."

Petersen just looked at him with pity. "You really don't, do you. You poor bastard." He shook his head and pushed his glasses back up his nose. "Unfortunately for you, I really don’t have time for this. Now if you'll excuse me, I have the next eighteen months of SHIELD's budget to completely overhaul. Again."

As Phil neared the door, Petersen glanced at him again. "Call if you magically find 3.8 billion dollars."

Phil just nodded and left.

Phil was still very confused when he arrived back at his own office.

When he unlocked his door, he found Natasha standing in the middle of his office next to his desk, her arms casually crossed. "That didn't go well," she told him, as if he didn't already know that.

Phil didn't bother asking how she knew what had happened in Petersen's office. She always knew. Though usually when she turned up in his office with obscure knowledge that could only have been gathered by eavesdropping in ventilation ducts, she had Clint in tow. The archer was nowhere to be seen now. Phil frowned slightly at that. He hadn't seen Clint in a while, actually.

"I am aware of that," he told her tersely as he walked around her to sit at his desk, beginning to mentally sort through the files he could take home for the weekend's entertainment.

She didn't reply and he looked up to find her appraising him with one manicured eyebrow slightly raised.

"What?" he asked her defensively.

She put her palms flat on the edge of his desk and leaned down so her face was six inches from her own. She stared coolly at him. He stared blankly back at her.

"Maybe you should try looking closer to home," she told him pointedly, pushing herself vertical again and turning to slink out that door.

"Maria already suggested that," he told her quickly.

Natasha looked back with a sly smile. "Hence Noah Petersen, I take it." She tilted her head, then turned to look him fully in the eye. "Find someone who knows you, Phil. Someone who makes you laugh and knows you inside and out, all the good parts and bad."

Her eyebrows seemed to be trying to communicate some idea to him, but he had absolutely no clue what it could be. He felt like Natasha's meaning was going so far over his head she might as well be having a conversation with the ceiling, but then he usually felt like that when talking to her.

She was searching his face for something, and she must have found it, because she smiled her enigmatic Black Widow smile and vanished through the door.

Clint and Jasper were having a late dinner in the caf when Phil found them. He'd spent half an hour staring at the narrow strip of wall above his door and wracking his brains for what Natasha's eyebrows had been trying to tell him. He thought he might have some semblance of an idea.

"Hey, Phil," Clint brightened when he saw him, putting his fork down on his near-empty dessert plate.

"Hey, Clint," Phil replied warmly. "Hey, Jas." He took a seat next to Clint, their shoulders bumping companionably. "What are you guys up to?"

"Barton's telling me about Brussels."

Phil smiled at the memory. "With or without the lemur?"

"Without," Clint said. "We'd be here til next week if I included the lemur."

Phil hummed in agreement, then turned his attention to why he was here. "Jasper, would you--"

"Not a problem," he said cheerfully, standing up with his tray. "I'll be out of your hair in a jiffy."

Phil frowned blankly at him. "Why would I want you to do that? I wanted to ask if you'd consider going on a date with me."

Next to him, Clint froze in the stillness that only a sniper can reach.

Jasper gaped at him. "If I would-- Okay, even if Melinda wouldn't kill me, the answer's still probably not."

Phil squinted at him in confusion. "Melinda?"

"Yes," Jasper said slowly. "Melinda May, my girlfriend."

"When did you start dating Melinda?" Clint rasped next to him in a poor facsimile of his usual energy.

"Seven months ago," Jasper said, but Phil wasn't paying attention. He was looking at Clint in concern, noting the paleness of his face.

"Are you alright, Clint?" he asked in an undertone.

Clint nodded. "I'm fine," he said quietly.

"Phil." Jasper eyed him shrewdly. "Why did you ask me out?"

"I--" Phil reluctantly allowed his attention to be drawn away from Clint. "Everyone's been giving me dating advice. Natasha just told me to find someone who knows me well, and you've been one of my closest friends since Academy."

He could almost see Jasper internally rolling his eyes and letting out a huge sigh. As it was, the other agent closed his eyes for a brief moment before zeroing in on Phil. "Let me tell you something, Phil Coulson," Jasper began, slamming his tray back down on the table and looming in Phil's direction, an unconscious mimicry of Natasha's pose less than an hour before. "You are an idiot."

At this point, Phil was convinced he had absolutely no evidence to the contrary.

"You are," Jasper continued, "without a doubt the most stupid man I have ever had the pleasure to watch sabotage his own love life."

Phil thought that might be going a little far.

"Finding someone to date isn't actually that hard. All you do is look at the people you know. Find someone who knows you so well, they can pick up on your signals from three-quarters of a mile away in the rain."

"Jasper," Clint said softly.

Jasper ignored him. "Find someone who makes you laugh so hard you start chuckling over live comms."

"Jasper," Clint warned louder.

Phil watched Jasper with wide eyes, his brain kicking into high gear as he tried to parse what his friend was telling him.

"Find someone who can do one little thing and make you so happy the junior agents get nervous."

"Please," Clint said.

Phil thought about perfectly completed files in his inbox after every mission, no matter how bad it had been. He thought about waking in medical to a friendly face every time he was injured. He thought about spending the whole day whistling and sending baby agents fleeing before him when Clint first called him "Sir."

"Find someone who you love spending time with so much that they fill up all the blank spots in your calendar before you even noticed they were there."

Phil thought about lessons with sniper rifles and nights watching Dog Cops. He thought about lazy afternoons in his office talking about everything and nothing. He thought about downtime on missions spent wandering foreign cities and staring at cloudless night skies.

"I can't--" Clint broke off.

"Find someone who's so beautiful that when you look at them, you feel like you're staring at the sun."

"Jas," Clint tried again.

Phil thought about strong hands with knobby knuckles and long graceful fingers. He thought about lean athleticism better suited to gymnastics than brawling, but brilliant at both. He thought about the poetry of an archery shot that never missed.

"Find someone who trusts you enough to give you the most painful parts of themselves."

Phil thought about stories of lion tamers and elephants. About orphans and foster homes. About the way seeing a child's face through a sniper scope can change a life forever.

"Don't," Clint told Jasper, almost pleading.

Jasper wasn't swayed. He stared at Phil. "Find someone who cares enough to let you go."

Phil thought about flying to Chile and telling Clint he was thinking about dating again. He thought about never finding Clint when he wanted dating advice. He thought about all the people he'd tried to connect with and how none of them worked out and how Clint seemed to be a common factor in all of them.

"Please," Clint breathed. Phil wasn't sure who he was talking to anymore.

"Find someone who loves you exactly as you are, idiot and all."

"Oh," Phil whispered in sudden, breathtaking realization, and thought about love.

He thought about grey-hazel-blue-green eyes and fresh cups of coffee on his desk. He thought about blood on the floor of a cartel's cell and the subsequent blood that had stained his hands. He thought about trusting an archer enough to feel fletching on his cheek from a half-mile shot.

He thought about three years of tracking and six months of training and seven years of working together. He thought about "trust me" and fifteen hours of silence and a Russian assassin brought in from the cold. He thought about the possibility of someone else asking before he did and the immediate, fierce jealousy that bubbled up.

In short, Phil thought about Clint.

The sniper next to him was still and quiet. Not the heartbreaking stillness of before, right after Phil had asked Jasper out - oh Jasper was right, Phil was such an idiot - but an inward quiet with hunched shoulders and a dipped head, his hands loose in his lap.

He was still breathtaking.

Phil's hands were trembling, but he reached one out and gently touched Clint's arm. The muscles twitched under his fingers, but Clint didn't pull way. Phil slowly trailed his fingers down Clint's arm until he reached his hand. He carefully slipped his fingers across Clint's palm, holding his hand. The archer's hand tightened quickly around his own and Phil could feel Clint take in a deep, shuttering breath.

He squeezed Clint's fingers a little tighter, and Clint leaned into his shoulder.

"Clint." Phil's mouth was dry. "Clint, will you--"

"Yes," Clint rasped.

"My work here is done," Jasper said, brushing his hands off. His loud voice was a jarring contrast to the thin, fragile moment that had built between them. "Ciao!" He picked up his tray again and sauntered away from the table, one hand raised in a jaunty farewell.

Neither man watched him go, both focused on the ball of warmth in the pit of their stomach and the feel of a hand in their own.

#Resolution19 #marvel #mcu #phlint #clint/coulson #c/c #oblivious!Phil #okay #so it doesn't quite match the prompt #but i'm tired and sick and i wrote this Saturday and i'm not writing another one #you can't make me #so this is the prompt that sort-of inspired it #so i'm going to count it #5 and 1 #Amanda writes things

7 notes · View notes

carry-on-my-wayward-imagines · 6 years ago

Text

Hope

Anonymous said: So I saw this quote today and I was wondering if you could do a Dean/reader oneshot based off it? “You don’t know you’ve fallen for someone until after it happens.”

Anonymous said: Hi! First off, I’m addicted to your writing, it’s so good! I was wondering if you could do one where the reader confesses her love to Dean and he doesn’t feel the same way, but after a few weeks/months he starts to fall for her? Whether or not the reader takes him at the end is up to you :) Thank you so much! <3

@-sidetracked- said: Can we make this like, a dean story please where like dean is in love with the reader and he isn’t supposed to be so he tried to forget like all the memories and stuff but she still comes around for Sam and cas and Charlie so he can’t and it’s really hard for him

A/N: It’s been so long...so long, but finally it’s here. Hope y’all like it.

Word count: 2,352

Pairing: Dean x reader.

Warnings: a bit of drinking.

“Let Go” series: Part I, II, III, IV, V

Theme song: Someone New - Hozier

“Let Go” Series Spotify Playlist

Your name: submit What is this?

--------

You paced nervously, looking down at your outfit. It was a simple black dress with long sleeves, a washed-out denim jacket, and a pair of comfortable tennis shoes. After all, you weren’t doing anything fancy, just a walk around the park and dinner at a nearby place after that. And even though you knew the sports bar wouldn’t be high class, you couldn’t help but feel underdressed. Or maybe overdressed? It was too complicated.

It had taken you so long to get this date, you couldn’t ruin it. You smiled to yourself reassuringly, grabbing your small bag and glancing at your outfit once again before walking out of your room.

Dean could always tell who was walking into the room by their footsteps. Sam was quiet despite his size, Cas awkward at times, but you were confident. He heard you before he saw you, noting the spring in your step as you walked into the Bunker’s library. He glanced up from his book, breath instantly taken away. You looked gorgeous.

“What do you think?” you asked, glancing at him and then at Sam, who also looked up at you. “It’s my first time dressing up in a while.”

“You look great, as always,” Dean smiled, grabbing the keys that had been tossed on the table and standing up. “Ready go?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, fighting your heart as it jumped happily with Dean’s compliment.

“Have fun,” Sam called out as you walked away with his brother. He was happy for you.

You watched your shadow along the walls and floors of the Bunker silently, comfortably walking with a humming Dean toward the Impala. He opened up the door for you, as always, before settling in on the driver’s seat and bringing his baby to life.

“Thanks for driving me tonight,” you mentioned as you buckled your seatbelt. “Soo-jin and I were aching to get a spa day. She doesn’t know what I do, but it wasn’t hard for her to see that I could use it.”

“No problem, Y/N. I promise I’ll fix up your car soon enough, too.”

You suddenly remembered the last time Dean fixed your car, wearing jeans and black t-shirt that hugged his arms in all the right places, and the grease stains that somehow got everywhere. It was a good memory, but not something you needed at the moment.

You watched the bright sky illuminating the empty fields and occasional houses on the countryside, feeling the Impala rumble under you. Spring was slowly turning into summer, and the once-green grass of Kansas began to slumber off, giving up to a yellow color under the intense heat all around you. You thanked Mother Nature for her grace today, keep it a cool 80 degrees. Maybe it wasn’t a true coolness, but it would be as good as it got at 5 P.M. for a long time.

More houses began to appear after a while, and you trusted Dean’s current mixtape to keep your nerves down. But the scent of his cologne and shampoo didn’t do any good. You stole glances at him every now and then, but he remained focused on the road. Of course, he noticed your head turning, but kept it to himself for later. Despite your nonchalant acting around him, he had hope.

Those thoughts soon evaporated as he listened to you give him directions around town, streets winding up confusingly as you arrived to a nearby town. You saw the name of the sports bar pop up on your map, close by the salon. You got there rather quickly, considering the traffic on the streets, and with nerves pooling in your stomach as Dean parked in front of the salon. The guilt began sinking into you.

It shouldn’t have mattered, of course, that you were going on a date. It had been months since Dean’s accident, and although you were not a bit over him, you still knew that he would be awkward about the subject of you dating. As any brother would, you thought. He’d always been weird when you mentioned any guys, it was something that he and Sam didn’t want details of, and quite honestly, you never really had many details to share. How could anyone give you better memories than Dean, even if he was nothing more than a friend?

But Neal seemed nice, at least you got that from the phone call and texts you’d shared. You still couldn’t remember the night at the bar at all, just seeing him and giggling together with Soo-jin, but everything else was faded, like looking through the end of a glass bottle. Drinks and laughter mixed together, small touches and the smell of alcohol close to your nostrils. And Dean. There was always Dean, even if you ended up not hanging out with him that much.

It shouldn’t have mattered, but it did. Because Dean had been your best friend before, and now, as he looked at you with a smile, you could feel your heart tear a bit. You couldn’t lie to him, he’d be able to tell. All of those midnight conversations, your rides shared on the Impala, and pies cooked at the break of dawn had brought you closer to him than anyone else, even if your interactions were limited now. He could read you better than anyone.

“Thanks for the ride,” you forced yourself to say, looking down as you fixed your outfit, hoping he wouldn’t notice your stress. You had to convince him that you were simply going into the salon. “I’m having dinner with Soo-jin so I’ll just take a cab after, that sound okay?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he said. Your heart fluttered. “Call me if you need me to pick you up, though. I’m here for anything.”

You found yourself wishing that was true in different ways. With a last smile and a quick goodbye, you got out of the car, waving at him and reassuring him you carried something silver and some holy water.

A deep breath later, you found yourself walking past the salon, locating the park just a street away. It was small, but nice. There was a fountain at the center, happy streams of water jumping and dancing around in it. The trees swayed with a cool breeze, but even then you began to question your outfit under the sun. You sat on the concrete of the fountain, looking at your phone and re-reading the text messages to make sure you were in the right place.

“Y/N,” you suddenly heard your name being called out.

He was just as your tipsy memory remembered; tanned flawless skin, charming smile, and toned arms. He was dressed more casually now, but even the khaki shorts and Columbia University shirt looked impressive. He held a black leash in his hand, which travelled all the way down to a cheerful labrador.

“Neal,” you smiled, standing up. His dog, Creek, circled around you, tail playfully wagging as you rubbed the top of his head. “I didn’t imagine your puppy would be so freaking adorable.”

“He’s definitely not a puppy,” Neal laughed.

“All dogs are puppies,” you challenged, teasingly glaring at him. Dean might’ve said the same thing. Kneeling down, you let Creek give you a couple kisses while you kept on petting him. “Aren’t you, cutie pie? Little pumpkin of adorableness?”

“I knew he’d be a good wingman,” Neal joked, offering his hand to help you up. “Trust me, he gets spoiled at home. If we don’t walk him then he’ll be troublesome later.”

You reluctantly stood up, accepting his hand. It was less calloused than your own, but firm. However, it also felt nothing like Dean’s, and his touch didn’t make you feel the same sparks as Dean’s. Trying to push that to the back of your head, you followed his pace with Creek, making small conversation as you went.

He was a lawyer, but went around the state taking cases, so he wasn’t home much. Creek was two years old, and as his name hinted, he had been found in a creek in one of the cities Neal travelled to once. His favorite toys were the squeaky kind, and he was trained to do many things, including playing dead. You found yourself asking a lot of questions about Creek.

“I had a dog growing up,” you explained as an apology, “but after that I just...sort of wound up moving a lot and never had the chance the get another pupper.”

“I get it. It was hard at first to get him used to moving around with me, but now he does a lot better,” Neal said, scratching Creek’s back as he walked. “So, Y/N, what do you do that makes you travel, too?”

“Umm,” you muttered, panicking. You hadn’t thought about this, of course he would ask. “I work in nursing, just traveling when I feel like I’m needed. It’s not more than a couple weeks at a time though.”

You weren’t completely lying, you tried to reason. You did act as a nurse for Sam and Dean; you just didn’t have to mention that it was after hunting down ghost or vampires or whatever else you found. But Neal bought it, nodding and mentioning he had thought about that while he was in school.

After a couple laps around the park, you hinted at dinner, knowing your dress wouldn’t be dry for much longer under the unavoidable rays of the sun. Thankfully the bar provided some water for Creek, and you got a seat by the window so you could keep an eye on him as you ate. The wings and lemonade kept you happy, intently listening to Neal as he spoke about his most recent case. And soon enough, the lemonade turned into a fruity drink or two, maybe a couple shots when you challenged him to it.

It was still before 8 when you left the bar, needing to take Creek home, and you heading in the same direction. You carried a water bottle with you as you walked outside with Neal. He lived a couple streets away, and you offered to walk along with him as you sobered up.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Neal asked for the third time as you approached his house. It was a one-story, with a spacious front yard (and you guessed back yard, too).

“You’re a lawyer, smart guy,” you laughed, following him to the front porch. “Even if we’re only a little tipsy, I live 40 minutes away and I’d rather not risk it.”

He threw his hands up, taking a set of keys out of his pocket and opening the door. Creek immediately rushed in, pacing around and then settling on his bed. You smiled at Neal as he walked in after you, closing the door behind him. He poured you another glass of water while you borrowed his phone and got an Uber, his smile never losing its charm.

When you stepped outside again, a driver waiting for you in the front, you couldn’t help but pet Creek one more time before hesitantly saying goodnight to Neal.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing your wrist before you left. Still no sparks. “I really enjoyed tonight.”

“I did, too,” you replied. At least that wasn’t a lie.

“I’m gonna be out of town for a while next Monday, but we could do lunch or something before I leave,” he suggested. You nodded along, and before you could really take in what was happening, Neal was leaning down.

I’m sorry, Dean, was the last thought on your mind as your closed your eyes and stood on your toes to meet him.

----

“Well, at least now I know that you’re alive,” Dean’s angry voice reached your ears.

You locked the Bunker’s door behind you, ignoring the look you knew he was giving you from the bottom of the stairs.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to charge my phone beforehand,” you replied, sighing.

You got a good look at Dean when you came down. He had his arms crossed, a look of concern and annoyance etched into the crinkles of his face. Your heart still warmed at the brightness of his green eyes, but shame and guilt mixed in with the warmth.

“You couldn’t have borrowed someone else’s phone?”

“I didn’t think about it,” you muttered. You really hadn’t, at least not to call. “Dean, can you just stop this interrogation? I wanna go change and shower.”

Dean tried to hold back, but he couldn’t. For some reason, he had been nervous as he dropped you off. He could tell that you weren’t being completely truthful with him. He was aching to tell you how he felt about you, but knowing that you were keeping something from him made him mad. Especially when he had called and texted to make sure you were okay, but you never replied.

“Oh yeah, get that smell of alcohol off of you,” he said.

“What’s with you?” you narrowed your eyes. Your heart began to drum faster as you confronted Dean. “I’m not a teenager, you can’t tell me that I can’t drink alcohol on a night out.”

“I was worried about you, Y/N. I even doubt you were with Soo-jin,” he confessed. You tried to keep yourself calm, to not let him see more of your lies.

“Well you shouldn’t be,” you shrugged. “And you’re not my dad or my boyfriend, so why do you care?”

You knew why he cared, it was a stupid question to ask, but you didn’t him a chance to saying anything else as you marched past him. You knew he heard the shake in your voice as you said “boyfriend.” Of course, even a date and a kiss later, you were not one bit over him. Not one bit.

And as Dean watched you walk away, he realized the same thing. You were still not over him, as much as you pretended. He still had a chance.

Of course, he knew nothing of the texts you sent later that night.

tagged:

@blingernoah, @homework-is-the-real-killer, @revyjerry, @grace-for-sale, @tombraidertussi, @castiels-imprinted-angel, @justacinnamonroll, @justastarryeyedgirl, @popeyesqueen, @thecrazyenthusiast, @stephyvqz, @whoxian, @womanizerbucky, @i-wish-i-could-be-peter-pan, @gsbmpsxlkwy, @collinssie, @gabavaldman, @thefallenbibliophilequote, @itsjaybro16, @dxrylswalker, @swiggitysammy, @tardis-is-mine, @slightlyspicyyy, @nocsa, @sarahstinson, @bookwormpunk, @kathrynxox333, @lauriij666, @marinasmth, @britasaurhxc, @cookie-dough-lova, @miller1967winchester, @literal-stardust, @jerkbitchidjitassbutt, @supernatural-crazed890, @olivia3aivilo-blog, @deangirl7695, @sirenrayne, @sakura-storm-blog, @shut-your-face-and-get-in-the-car, @naturalbornsnickerdoodle @akshi8278 @justanotherdogperson

#Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester imagine #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #dean winchester one shot #dean imagine #dean one shot #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #one shot #dean fanfic #reader insert #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #angst #dean angst #supernatural fanfiction #dean fanfiction #LG

144 notes · View notes

magic-marvel · 6 years ago

Text

I Love to Hate You

Chapter 5

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Pairing: Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Reader

Summary: You don’t know what it is, but seeing him breathe makes you want to punch him in the throat.

Word Count: 2039

A/N: im crying??? its been so long??? im so sorry???

yall this update was originally like 5k words long or something like that so i split it into two chapters so its easier to keep track. im sorry for making yall wait so long i swear ive been working on it i just like had no motivation until last night to finish this.

WARNINGS: remember when i said i wasn’t gonna warn anymore and to take note of the previous warnings? yep.

It was 11:36 PM.

You awaited for the right moment, the perfect opportunity to execute your plan. There was no second chances, not even a plan B. This needed to go how you expected it to or it wouldn't work at all. So you waited.

11:38 PM.

You watched it fall in place, the pieces of a puzzle you already solved. You watched as Bruce left his lab for the night. He sent you a quick goodnight before going his way. He was the last to be in the common areas of the Tower, a few members were still awake in their respective rooms. But with Bruce now gone, you were able to exit the building without notice.

11:43 PM.

You walked into Peter's room, expecting him to be ready for the mission. He was asleep.

You grabbed his suit off the floor and slapped it against his bare back, he woke up with a scramble.

“Get up! We are going right now!”

Peter was groggy, visibly confused about the situation. But with sleepy eyes and tousled hair, he put his suit on. You waited in the same chair Bucky was sitting in this morning, the knife marks still etched as a chilling reminder to not get on his bad side. You were running your finger over the marks, feeling the indents when you heard Peter's suit shrink into place.

You looked up at him, finding he was without his mask. He looked over the floor with half lidded eyes, a trail of dried drool still on his cheek. His hair was an absolute mess, maybe the mask wouldn't be able to hold it down.

“There we go...” Peter bent down to reach under his bed. You watched as he stretched a hand, mindlessly reaching for his mask. But he grabbed it in no time, walking up to you while putting on the final piece of his suit.

“Bruce just left the lab, so we can go out the window now.” You spoke, already walking towards the glass pane separating you from the outside.

“The window? We can't just take the elevator?” Peter questioned.

You unlatched the lock, pushing open the thin piece of glass to the outside. You leaned forward, staring at the concrete street 12 floors below you. It wasn't the highest point, but it most definitely will do a lot more than tickle if you fell at this height.

“The cameras would catch us, my dad would be alerted. Since Bruce left to his room, we can go past the floor below us without him spotting us through the windows.”

You tugged at your sleeves, hoping they would fight off the bitter breeze that flowed through the window. It bit at your cheeks, causing a quick shiver to run along your body. You should have brought more layers.

“Okay, well hold tight then.”

You were leaning out the window when he spoke. You furrowed your brows, turning quickly once realization hit.

“Wait—what?”

Peter swooped you up with one arm, your body pressed tight against his while he climbed out the window

“WAIT, WAIT! I WASN'T READY—PETER!” You shouted before Peter took a dive out the window.

The air was sucked out of your lungs while you clung your arms around Peter's neck. You were rocketing towards the ground at a rate that you didn't think was possible, you felt your soul leave your body and trail back up to the room to watch its body splat on the sidewalk. Maybe your dad won't find out.

“Hang on!” Peter shouted over the rush of air, using his currently free hand to push under your thigh. He kept tugging until you finally got the idea, wrapping your legs around him like a baby koala.

It was in that instant, when you found a tight grip on him did you hear his webshooters go off. It tugged the both of you roughly into the opposite direction, had you not held so tightly you might have gotten a nasty hit of whiplash. It also helped that Peter held you securely in his arm, preventing you from even getting a wiggle out.

You clung to dear life, not for a second opening your eyes as you felt your body move through the air. Your ears popped, letting a rush of sound to flood in before you both took another dip towards the ground.

You had stopped screaming by now, nearly numb from the velocity and the rush of blood. Your muscles were locked in place, wrapping around Peter in hopes that you could melt into him for safety. He didn't seem to mind, at least he didn't make it obvious. So he continued swinging between buildings, not exactly sure where he was going but he was enjoying the trip while he still could.

12:04 AM.

Peter eventually let you down in an alley. Well, he intended to let you down.

“Hey, we're on solid ground.” You continued to hold on, face buried into his neck and eyes screwed shut. “...That means you can let go now.”

“No.” You uttered.

You held on, despite both of Peter's arms hanging by his side. You stayed snugged against him, your bottom slowly sliding down with the lack of support. You kept trying to adjust your grip, even wiggle your hips to get a better lock around Peter's waist. Nothing worked, and eventually your own strength failed you. You began to drop, but Peter managed to hold you up before then.

“C'mon, we dont have a lot of time. And I want to sleep.” Peter let go of you, making sure you could hold yourself up after that trip.

You let out a groan of frustration, staying close behind him before he would let you go do your 'mission'.

“Okay, so I'm thinking I'd check out the donut place and then just walk down the street a bit. I'll try and stall so maybe we can bait this guy out.” You poked your head out from behind Peter, checking your surroundings before stepping out yourself. You wobbled a bit, still trying to get used to solid ground. You hoped Peter hadn't noticed. He did.

“Got it, ma'am! I'll be on the rooftops!” Peter already began climbing up the side of a building when you called back to him.

“Call me 'ma'am' again and I'll shave your head in your sleep.”

“Roger that, ma'am.”

You threw your shoe at him, smacking him in the head before it fell back down to you. He continued crawling, giving his head a gentle rub. You hoped it hurt.

You slipped your shoe back on, now ready to walk the New York streets in an effort to catch whoever is behind the hack. Peter was to catch them, web them up and you would call your dad and Steve to take care of the rest. You thought it was a sound plan, something to prove to your father that you can be a valuable member of the team. Maybe even after this he would consider making you an avenger.

12:33 AM.

You walked down an empty street. Street lamps flickered above, giving a more lifeless feel to the empty sidewalk. Cars would drive by, the ones with tinted black windows made you weary. But they would drive away quickly, giving you a chance to breath again. This went on for some time while you walked. You took the long way to the donut shop, trying to extend your trip for as long as possible.

The old shop was a 24/7 vendor. You walked up to a window, someone sitting inside quickly got up to greet you.

“How may I help you?” The kind lady asked, her accent heavy with each word. You shifted on your feet, pouting your lips while staring up at the chalkboard menu behind her.

“May I have a half dozen box? Three glazed and the other three chocolate, please.” You responded to her in Spanish, hoping that it would be more comfortable in her own language. She gave you a wide smile as you spoke. The winkles in her warm features deepen as she watched you speak, even her eyes brightened with the sound of her mother tongue.

“Of course, honey. Would you like a drink too? It's cold out, my love. I could warm up a hot chocolate for you.” She asked.

Your own eyes lit up at the thought, you quickly nodded your head before speaking, “Yes! I would love that, thank you so much!”

She quickly packed a box with your donuts before sneaking away to grab a new mix of hot chocolate. You sat at a bench in front of the window and waited while she prepared your drink. The more you thought of it, the more you realized that she was right. It was practically freezing out, a hot chocolate would cure any shivers just by the mere thought.

And a box of donuts for you and Peter was a bonus, the late night snack should help you both stay alert for the rest of the mission.

The woman returned to the window, box and paper cup in hand. You gave her the money for both, but she tried waving off the extra amount for the hot chocolate.

You wouldn't take no for an answer, so you gave her the money for the hot chocolate and a generous tip. You left it in a clear box in the front, giving her a toothy smile and thanking her sincerely. She thanked you for coming, telling you to go home and warm up.

But you simply smiled at her, assuring you would. Choosing to simply lie rather than admit you weren't going home seemed simpler, it gave the kind woman a chance to soon forget you. You were another customer, a polite girl who made a quick stop for donuts and hot chocolate, nothing more.

You continued walking down the street, turning around random corners in hopes of luring someone out. You ate away at the donuts while taking tentative sips at the warm beverage, you didn't want to burn your tongue.

But soon, you became full, your drink felt cold. You were wandering aimlessly for some time, the box in your hand becoming an annoyance. So you sat down at a bus stop bench, pulling out your StarkPhone and quickly finding Peter's contact.

DIALING: LITTLE SHIT

…

The phone rang just twice before Peter picked up.

“What's up?” He answered. You shifted your phone against your cheek and settled the box down at your side.

“I got donuts for you. I ate all the glazed though, not gonna lie.” You replied, quickly popping the box open to inspect the chocolate donuts left over. You looked above you, trying to find the masked hero.

“Well, at least you saved me some.” Peter acknowledged. You found him climbing down a wall across the street. He kept his distance, not trying to associate himself with you for the moment. You both agreed that if he was seen with you now, that might scare off the culprit.

You got up from the bench, throwing your cold cup into a trash bin and leaving the box on the bench. “Alright, I'm gonna make another trip around the block. If nothing happens then I guess we should call it a night.” You sighed, disappointed that nothing has happened so far. It was cold, you were tired, and these assholes still haven't showed up. What a bunch of jerks.

“Sure thing, I'll still be watching your back.” Peter assured.

“Thanks, Pete.” You replied sincerely. He hummed in response, accepting your gratitude without any tease or jokes. You appreciated it.

Soon you both hung up, you kept walking forward trying to make it back around to where you originally started. It was later into the night, more people actually came out. Not exactly the type of people you'd wanna hang out with, but they were people nonetheless.

At least you weren't alone out here anymore. But then again, that's not always a good thing.

Chapter 6

I Love to Hate You Taglist:

@1dforeverandalwaysfan @sugakookiessss @embrace-themagic @zseonlydavinci @marvelous-musicals @4-a-m @spideyshoe @chemiste @lolidubs @missaubreychase @dust-finatic @pinkfairyfluff @honeyicouldntthinkofaurl @1enchantedfantasy1 @meoodle @sugakookiessss @peachysuris @imarockstar45 @pansexual-and-a-geek @hedwigthelegend @didanyonesaybuckybarnes @blossomingstan @pitubea1910 @smileyhollander @deafeningnerdkitten @loricwizardbluetoastedcake @feelingsareharddd @hellsmischievousangel @agentsinstorybrooke @localizedtrashcan @thenerdyrebel @toastedside @stevieboyharrington @fosteringmermaids @donkeysblog @greekdemigodwannabe @black-glitter-blood @ritivos @lilaqueenquinn @sanniegirl1214 @huntermichelle @adorablyparker @maroongoon @bibegone @thumper-darling @alexlikescookies @seabassobrien @miguelstilinski24 @coolbonnieblr @lucislilangel @sickenlngdesire @magmas @srrymydood @ciellovesweets @hiddenaurora @abearindisguisecosplay @spideynblackcat @awspidey @carry-on-ms-believer @thefandomplace @hi-im-a-haley @littlemsrantsalot @bethanystan @ukulele-tea-and-ocean @bloodysleepy @sleeping-beau @itsellasinfinity @vampireloveandfun @jordmac @sundaewithacherryontop @pamplemousse-m @shortpplareclosertosatan @literallyjustnatalie @hawaiiantozier @tomsspideysenses @baconlover001 @alexisdemers03 @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @peter-prkers @radicalmeghan @ultradangerouspie @straya4lifemate @tonifrances297 @basicmarvelbitch @kawaii-girl-101 @dontstopxx

Permanent Taglist:

@rose-coloured-me @sunflower-anna @classiccollectionavenue @memyselfandmaddox @teeterparker @peachllobotomy @emaywhyayy @sander-fander-sides @dystosiims @well-this-is-just-awkward @purpstraw @its-obrosey-bitch @voidjillybean @drinkingteandfangirling @stevieboyharrington @jacquelinebeam @sam-maerell @sassmastermaria @scarlettsoldier @floodinginstars @mackenziesmarvelousgalaxy @infinitytoms @sterolinelover13 @loricwizardbluetoastedcake @unicorn-sparkles123 @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @queenofallslay @foursetsofcoursets @tomhollandsmouthfr0g @miraculouspaladins @fangirl--of-everything @plurisignificativoblog @potato-galaxy @popluckbih @awkwardnesshabitat @skelkitt @spiderdudeparker @determinedpines @mindset-jupiter @newsienewsie @alt-wildflower @0captain-marvel0 @buck-ets @ink-and-tea @stranger-marvel @who-the-buck-is-stucky @ironspideyboy @httpmcrvel @missaubreychase @johnmulaneyslut @lxstneverfound @classicmarvelavenue @daisyjeongguk @baby-hunny-bee @fucking-reddie @thumper-darling @vjrobine @w0nderr @fightmebub @ouatandsupernatural @disdainful-words @leggo-lass @supremetoaster @cynicallystiles @bluedogsatmusicians @vjrobine @marvelnerdxinfinity @losersunitetonight @intoxicatingloki @minyoongay-jungcock @for-my-mind @sorceressandy @thekidsofneibolt @junewisterias @nrx7 @francesdominique @not-sebastian-stan @yuukyuu-no-uta @saltoids @ailynalonso15

Peter Parker Taglist:

@me-a-hopeless-romantic @tomsspideysenses @planetquill @i-am-a-sinner-666 @meliketozier

347 notes · View notes

angry-mango · 6 years ago

Text

questions

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? mugs

2. chocolate bars or lollipops? lollipops

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? cotton candy

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you? smart, sweet, quiet

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? glass bottles, but if that’s not an option then soda cans

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? pastelpreppygoth

7. earbuds or headphones? headphones

8. movies or tv shows? tv shows

9. favorite smell in the summer? rain or vanilla

10. game you were best at in p.e.? tug of war

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? water real breakfast used to be like scrambled eggs w bread and orange juice

12. name of your favorite playlist? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

13. lanyard or key ring? i prefer key ring because it’s easier to put in a bag, but i love my lanyard

14. favorite non-chocolate candy? jolly ranchers or sweet tarts

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment? number the stars - lois lawry

16. most comfortable position to sit in? knees to chest

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? high slipons (i have no idea what they’re called tbh)

18. ideal weather? gentle rain

19. sleeping position? side or stomach

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? here (tumblr)

21. obsession from childhood? owls or cheetah print omfg

22. role model? nobody, trying to be myself

23. strange habits? biting everything

24. favorite crystal? lapis lazuli

25. first song you remember hearing? a thousand miles - vanessa carlton

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather? park or the falls (outdoor mall)

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather? literally anything outdoors, i want to enjoy it

28. five songs to describe you? ive got a dark alley, sleep, disloyal order of water buffaloes, wilson (expensive mistakes), i don’t care

29. best way to bond with you? include me in things, make an effort to talk to me, try your best to sympathize with my many moods

30. places that you find sacred? hands, neck, downthere

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? silk japanese-ish jacket, black jeans, boots

32. top five favorite vines? a potato flew around my room before u came, u not my dad, NO!!, pReTtY CooL!!, sharkeisha no

33. most used phrase in your phone? sksks

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? target, this ford one from christmas

35. average time you fall asleep? 1 am

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? doge

37. suitcase or duffel bag? suitcase

38. lemonade or tea? iced green tea - if not, then lemonade

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? lemon cake

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? my elementary went on lockdown once and we were trapped in the cafeteria and we heard the gunmans footsteps running on the roof, heard doors getting knocked down, couple gunshots but nobody got hurt

41. last person you texted? ollie

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? pants

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? hoodie, although i’ve always wanted a bomber or leather

44. favorite scent for soap? pomegranate

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? sci-fi

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? baggy shirt & leggings

47. favorite type of cheese? american

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? cherry 🍒

49. what saying or quote do you live by? it’s always been “nothing lasts forever” - you might change that

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? the randomest shit you can come up with

51. current stresses? losing someone

52. favorite font? i think it’s georgia

53. what is the current state of your hands? soft, cold, kinda wrinkly smfh

54. what did you learn from your first job? n/a

55. favorite fairy tale? i don’t know

56. favorite tradition? don’t have any traditions, other than cooking every thanksgiving

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? surviving, fasting, dieting when i was on my deathbed

58. four talents you’re proud of having? i’m great at video games, i can hold my breath for like a minute, i’m loyal (is that a talent), and i have good control for certain things

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? it be like that

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? the only anime i’ve ever seen is voltron

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? i don’t know ive seen too many

62. seven characters you relate to? ronald weasley thats it

63. five songs that would play in your club? pet cheetah, the (after) life of the party, planetary (go!), young volcanoes, clocks

64. favorite website from your childhood? coolmathgames

65. any permanent scars? i don’t know if they’re permanent but things that have been there a handful of years, yes - mosquito bites (i’m a terrible healer) some cuts, and a scratch on my foot

66. favorite flower(s)? carnations, snapdragons, lilies

67. good luck charms? tahitian bracelet, bee necklace

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? coconut

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? how to absolutely slay at video games

70. left or right handed? right

71. least favorite pattern? zig zag only cuz it’s hard to draw

72. worst subject? social studies

73. favorite weird flavor combo? does spicy doritos inside sandwiches count

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? twelve (12)

75. when did you lose your first tooth? i have no idea but i think i was 4

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? chips (specifically lays)

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? never grown any plants indoors :(( i’ve always had pets that could potentially eat them and overprotective parents

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? i don’t like sushi so i’ll go with coffee even though i’ve never had it from a gas station what’s the big deal

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? my school id, dear god my license pic is absolutely horrible

80. earth tones or jewel tones? dark jewels

81. fireflies or lightning bugs? aren’t they the same thing- unless u mean what do i call them, then fireflies

82. pc or console? console

83. writing or drawing? writing

84. podcasts or talk radio? neither

84. barbie or polly pocket? polly pocket

85. fairy tales or mythology? mythology

86. cookies or cupcakes? cookies

87. your greatest fear? tornadoes

88. your greatest wish? you

89. who would you put before everyone else? ollie

90. luckiest mistake? dropping out of school (it’s complicated, but i’ve thought about it and decided it was)