#[father's first name] [father's last name] be fucking normal for one second challenge (possible but he's a proud asshole so he won't do it)

[skrunksthatwunk]

pulled aside by my father to watch a homophobic k&p sketch and just had to sit there like 😬 and then when i explained it was homophobic he was like "i fear for your sense of humor". christ alive

#look idk anything about k&p maybe they've gotten better. not the point #it's the one where there's a pop duo singing a love song to a crowd of women and one of them keeps coming onto the other guy despite him #being obviously uncomfortable for like. two minutes. and then when the queer guy gets too into it and starts singing about the other #artist's bald head he backpedals and starts singing about being cartoonishly straight #thats the whole thing #the joke is 1. gay guy can't catch a hint and makes straight guy uncomfortable by hitting on him or expressing interest in him #(classic homophobic joke. probably don't need to explain that) #2. when everyone realizes what's going on gay guy stumbles back into the closet in an over the top way #and when i pointed out point 1 to my dad he was like 'i fear for your sense of humor' #im gonna shit bricks #[father's first name] [father's last name] be fucking normal for one second challenge (possible but he's a proud asshole so he won't do it) #i spent so long haha yeahing my problems with what they did away that now whenever i challenge them even slightly and see that they #will not reflect and will not change it's wild. i explained why this was homophobic (less clearly than here but still) and he was like. :/ #youre no fun. like ok i actually tried and it Is That Bad. sheeshhhh #the answer is probably to keep trying until they get it bc they think they like queer people but that's. a lot. #(they in this case = my parents. just switched into a broader rant without warning my b) #he rewound it when my mom came out and when it seemed like i was gonna leave too so like... idk what that was about but it feels very #'now that our gay kid's out of the room. cishet wife with a similar sense of humor to me do you think this is homophobic?' to me #and hey maybe that'll be productive and reflective but uh. historically speaking? probably not. #i feel like im not doing enough to make them less shitty or at leaat to stick up for me n my brothers so i gotta keep going and doing more #and theyre not the worst people ever really. so i should do my part so to speak. but man it fucking blows is all #they're so annoyingggg #also why does he talk like that who does that. i mean. i do. but it's bad when he does it #and they ARE capable of change. i had to argue for trans people existing years ago and now they act like that never happened #(granted i was arguing from a cis transmedicalist perspective back then but like. still. (i have grown since age 13 if you can believe it)) #so theyre pro trans in a superficial kinda way. which is something. i just wish they'd acknowledge that they were wrong literally ever #it's happened once that i can think of. twas my dad #theyre like emotional and ideological brick walls it's insane #ugh. god gives his most frustrating softcore bigoted parents to his swaggiest gay transsexuals i guess #man what a post to be making soon after the daig o one. what a coincidence that that post materialized with no influence from my life haha

[imkylotrash]

Playing Games

Pairing: Sky x reader

Requests: You’re known as a very powerful faerie and dating sky and known as the power couple of the school. Anonymous

and

You get in a fight and you make him jealous (hint to smut) Anonymous

A/N I changed Sky’s personality slightly to fit the request. I don’t really see him having this reaction but I liked it for the story. 

“Hey boyfriend,” you smile walking straight into his open arms. He hugs you tightly taking everything in. God, you’ve missed him. Your parents insisted that you spent the summer with them meaning you and Sky had only seen each other on facetime for the past two months.

“How was your summer?” he asks refusing to let go of you just yet. 

“It would’ve been better if it had included you,” you admit knowing he’s thinking the exact same thing. He’s spent the summer with Riven at Alfea and Silva putting them through a brutal training program so they would be ready for this term. 

“I bet Silva really enjoyed having you this summer though,” you reckon as you walk towards the gate to the school. 

“If he enjoyed putting us through that then the man is a sadist.” 

“You know what I mean,” you laugh knowing just how important these moments are for both Sky and Silva. You know Sky has always considered Silva his real father which also meant that he always worried about Silva. Being the head of the army wasn’t exactly a job that came with a lot of security so Sky never knew if he were saying goodbye for the last time. You’d spent a lot of nights staying up and waiting for Silva to return. Something you were happy to do if it helped Sky. 

“I know, I know,” Sky replies. When you enter school grounds you see the first couple of students start to whisper and point. It’s no secret that you and Sky are considered somewhat of a power couple around here despite your many attempts to stay under the radar. You’ve proven to be quite the powerful fairy drawing a lot of attention in itself but when you and Sky started dating, everyone wanted to know more. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this part,” you admit quietly not wanting anyone but Sky to hear you. Sky wants to be a normal couple as much as you do, but he’s accepted that that’s not a possibility with him practically being Silva’s son and you being one of the most powerful fairies this school has ever seen. He likes the attention from the girls a bit more than you’d prefer but you trust him wholeheartedly. 

“Just give ‘em a smile and keep walking,” he whispers practicing that tactic himself. You breathe out once you get inside not even realising that you’d been holding your breath. You know it comes with the territory but that doesn’t mean you have to love it. 

“Just imagine when we graduate and get to leave this place. We can go somewhere no one knows us.” It’s an alluring thought that helps keep you sane even if it’s only a comforting lie. Someone with your powers will never be able to be completely free from war and politics. Farah has already started giving you private lessons in diplomacy and the history of politics in the Otherworld. With power comes certain expectations. 

“I will hold onto that thought until you come find me for lunch,” you smile giving him a quick peck before heading to class. Except he doesn’t come find you for lunch and keeping your temper under control becomes quite a challenge when you discover why. 

“Who’s this?” you ask positioning yourself between Sky and the new girl. She has gorgeous red hair and a face that screams pretty but you refuse to be intimidated by her. 

“This is Bloom,” Sky informs you. It’s a conscious effort not to make a face when you hear her name. Maybe you feel slightly intimidated by her. 

“You forgot our lunch date,” you state and while everyone else who hears your voice won’t think anything of it, Sky knows you’re upset. 

“I’m sorry. I’m the one that kept him. I was just having trouble finding my way and he definitely didn’t offer any help.” Apparently, it’s an inside joke because they both laugh bringing your anger to a boiling point. You haven’t seen him all summer and on the first day back together he goes and flirt with the first years. He knows he’s in trouble as you walk away from Bloom. 

“Before you say anything, I was just being nice.” 

“Then why don’t you join her for lunch?” you say your voice dripping with sarcasm. He’s about to say something when you spot your chance for being completely immature and petty. 

“Alex, hey! Wait up. You want to go get some lunch?” He’s a specialist you started talking to last year and while he’s nothing but a friend you know it’ll annoy Sky. You both have a tendency to be jealous of each other making fights between the two of you downright horrible. 

“Sure,” he says not realising that he just became part of the argument. You feel bad for involving him but then you remember standing in the cafeteria waiting patiently for Sky while he was out flirting with a first year and every bit of guilt goes down the drain. 

“Alex, I mean this in the nicest way but get fucking lost.” He grabs your arm holding you in place and Alex immediately scatters. No specialist will go against Sky especially not when he’s looking like he just might punch a wall - or them. 

“Maybe you should get lost?” you say out of spite more than anything. You hate that you’re arguing on the first day back but it was humiliating to stand there waiting having everyone watch you. 

“I’m sorry I missed lunch, okay? It won’t happen again.” His eyes are begging for forgiveness and you want to end this fight so badly but something’s keeping you from doing so. 

“I was thinking about you all day. I was quite literally counting the seconds until lunch because I missed you. And all you could think about was some first year. That hurts, Sky.”

“I know. But it wasn’t like that. I spent my summer going crazy without you here.” He tentatively takes your hands hoping you won’t push him away. 

“It would’ve been nice to know that,” you mumble feeling your anger subside. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I take full responsibility for today. It won’t happen again,” he says bringing you in for a hug. It’s futile to fight him at this point, you’re not even angry anymore. 

“I wasn’t much better. I’m sorry about Alex,” you mumble face pressed against his chest. You feel him chuckle and you can’t help but laugh too by the absurdity of it all. 

“I probably scared that kid half to death.” You’re pretty sure Alex will never have the guts to speak to you again. The poor boy had no clue what he was getting into when he agreed to lunch. You promise yourself this is the first and last time someone else gets dragged into you and Sky’s argument. 

“Kiss me and then take me to lunch,” you say. He leans down kissing you with those plumb lips of his and you feel your knees go weak. Even though you drive each other crazy, he is the one for you. He’s the love of your life and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

#sky x reader #sky blurb #sky imagine #sky gif #sky #fate the winx saga #fate the winx club #fate winx club #winx saga #winx club #fate winx #fate #sky of eraklyon

[wiypt-writes]

Honey Haloed Weakness

A Bucky Barnes One Shot

Summary: Sometimes second chances come when you least expect them.

Warnings: Bad language, fluff, feels, some sad stuff…character death…mentions of smut but nothing explicit. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader. (Nicknamed Honey). Reader appearance bar eyes is deliberately not described. Moodboard is just for aesthetic purposes

Characters: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson

A/N: This was originally written for a writing challenge last year, and I meant to revamp/repost it for Bucky’s birthday a few days back but never did. Then the rumours of the title for the first ep of FATWS hit my feed and…well, it reminded me of this.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Main Masterlist

************

One bullet. One pull of the trigger. That was all it took. As you watched, the shot flew clean through the shoulder of one hostile, ricocheted off Sam’s shield and then hit a second straight in the hand causing him to drop the knife he had been slashing at Sam with. The three of you stooped, Falcon, The Winter Soldier and you, Silver Shadow. Shield, guns and sparking hands all lowered as you glanced around, the last noises of your fight dying in the air.

“Man did you just shoot two guys with one bullet?” Sam turned to Bucky, his tone laced with shock and awe. “Did it look cool?” Bucky quipped back, an air of nonchalance in his voice, despite the level of surprise he himself felt.  James Buchanan Barnes knew he was a good shot. But that…that was something else.

And something that had been down to chance more than anything. Even if he had tried to make that shot, there’s no way of predicting the trajectory of the bullet once it emerged from the guys shoulder or controlling the angle it exited at… 

Unless… He turned to look at you. Your hair, splattered with blood and gore from the battle, hung like curtains of scarlet drenched silk round your face, from behind which warm eyes glanced back at him. Your features remained passive, adorned with the same expression you had worn when he had first seen one another in your rundown apartment in Bucharest when Steve had come looking for him post the Vienna bombings. 

Sam turned away muttering something about retrieving the Intel they had come for off the hard drives in the main office, and once his back was turned, you caught Bucky’s eyes with your own and blinked as Bucky swallowed. After using your powers, your irises were always ringed with a bright gold, a honey halo. And, as Bucky allowed himself just a second to indulge in the warmth they exuded over him, one slipped onto a sly wink. And then he knew for certain.

“You did it.” He looked at you and you merely stared back remaining passive. He was right, you had. You’d controlled the shot, directing it exactly where it needed to go. And Bucky wasn’t sure whether he felt turned on or slightly emasculated. “Don’t worry.” You said gently as you made your way back to the jet. “I won’t tell Sam, on one condition?” “Yeah? What’s that?” Bucky asked, turning to look at you. “You ask me out for that drink Steve’s been telling me you want to take me for.” And with that you left him standing there, slack jawed as he watched you head up the ramp. **** “So, in a word, you’re still a punk.” Bucky finished recapping the tale later the next morning, leaning back in the comfy chair by the bed Steve lay in. The old man laughed and shook his head. “She’s a devil, I’ll give her that. Mind you, she always was good at playing the cards she was dealt.” A fond smile spread across Steve’s face at the thought of you, his other best friend, the girl he had pulled from that shitty HYDRA base in 2014 when they had been chasing the Sceptre. No one had any idea who you were, what you could do, where you had come from…and that included you. You hadn’t spoken for three days other than to thank him or Natasha for the food and clothes you were given, and Tony for his kindness. And then, on the fourth day, Steve found you in the kitchen at the base, trying to decide on what to make you for lunch, and he won you over with an expertly made grilled cheese. “What’s your name?” He asked softly as you sat chewing.

“I…I don’t know.” You shrugged, your eyes wide as you looked down at your plate.  Steve gently reached out, his hand taking yours softly as you looked at him, your eyes flashing that sparkling gold colour.

 "Honey, you’re safe now, you know that right?

“Honey…” You said wistfully, “I like that.” 

And so it stuck. Where your ability to manipulate metal came from, no one knew. A mutation? Maybe. Human enhancement experiment? Possibly. But it didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact you embraced the responsibility that came with that power. You wanted to help people and, as such, you agreed to stay with the Avengers and they were better for having Silver Shadow as their teammate, and Honey as their friend. Allowing himself another few moments of nostalgia, Steve eventually shook himself free of his memories and, with a sly look turned his head to face Bucky. “In my eyes it’s normally correct to buy a dame a drink before you bump uglies on an African Plain. Yeah, I know exactly what went down between you two that night in Wakanda.” Bucky blinked before he snorted, shaking his head. “Of course she told you…” When the dust settled after the show down in Leipzig, Bucky didn’t see you for almost a year until you came to Wakanda with Steve to be there when they brought him out of Stasis. You were different then, but so was Steve. A year on the run in the shadows had hardened you both. Those warm eyes still flashed gold, yet they carried a darkness that hadn’t been there before.

But they still exuded all the power and warmth of the sun. And Bucky was on fire.

“Can’t sleep either?” He asked as he emerged from the comfortable farmers hut he had been given to live in. You shrugged. “My mind gets a bit busy sometimes. I find the stars help.” He sat down beside you, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Ever wonder what it’s like just to be normal?” You sighed and he snorted, his head turning slowly to look at you as you gazed up at the sky. “What’s normal?” You laughed softly and looked at him, your eyes flashing in the moonlight, turning this time a deep amber speckled with brown. There was a moment, another blink and then your lips were crashing together, tongues fighting for dominance, hands grabbing at whatever they could reach. Under the moonlight, sultry cries and gentle whimpers were shared. Skin slid on skin, hands wandered and explored as together you reclaimed your grasp on humanity, what it was to feel something other than fear and death and anger. And then you had to leave and it was another twelve months since Bucky saw you again, this time on a battle field in Wakanda…with those creatures. Now your eyes were fierce and laced with a reddish gilt, as you tore metal armour limb from limb, wrenched weapons from hands, made sure shots hit their targets, your daggers flying and returning to your hands.

But there was no beating Thanos. 

“I can’t control his gauntlet.” Your voice was laced with the desperation you felt, broken as you realised your powers were of no use.

And then Bucky had been snapped.

“Those five years were long.” Steve shook Bucky from his reminiscing. “For all of us. Trying to forgive ourselves for our failure. And it was that inability to do so that saw us figure it out, a way to bring everyone back.”

Bucky looked down. He knew all about that. Seeking redemption, wiping your leger clean. “Don’t keep her waiting another five years.” Steve locked his eyes onto Bucky’s. A plea, a beg.

So he didn’t.

Later that night, Bucky asked you for that drink. And he dated you, bought you flowers, made love to you some nights, fucked you into the mattress on others. You ran missions side by side with Sam, walked and danced in the rain.

A diamond ring was bought, a yes was said

And one bright April day a year later, his honey haloed weakness became his wife.

***** “Where are my keys?” Bucky asked, frowning as he gently closed the drawer to the sideboard. “You know, Honey, I wish you’d stop moving my stuff.” No sooner had he finished, he felt a vibration in his pocket and a moment later he heard the keys in question jangling. He turned with a soft sigh to see them hovering about a foot away from him in the air. You stood at the other side of the room, hand raised lightly as you wriggled her fingers causing them to move higher as you arched an eyebrow. “You owe me an apology, Buckaroo.” “So what’s new?” He chuckled and you smiled as you shrugged on your jacket and walked towards him, whilst he checked you had everything your needed. Even for a simple trip down the road it seemed like you were prepping for a mission, but then again, maybe you were… You made your way out of the Brownstone into the glorious September sun, your hand curled around Bucky’s arm, nestling comfortably in the crook of his elbow, the shiny platinum and diamond of your rings sparkling as they caught the light. Bucky had a knack for steering and making sure everyone moved out of the way, which was why you were happy to let him take the lead. After a short walk, you reached your destination and made your way down the familiar narrow gravel path towards what you were aiming for. Your pace slowed a little here, it was always harder on gravel, you felt like you were sinking almost.

Together you stopped in front of a beautiful headstone made out of white marble upon which a simple inscription was etched in deep, gold writing.

‘Steven Grant Rogers. Much loved husband, father and friend.’ Below the wording sat Steve’s symbol. His shield, the star surrounded by rings, along with a simple phrase to remind everyone exactly who the stone commemorated. ‘Captain America is hope, he’s freedom, he’s just a kid from Brooklyn’ Bucky’s metal hand gently ran across the top of the headstone and you smiled softly at him, before a noise drew your attention back to exactly why you had come here today specifically. Smiling at one another, Bucky turned and gently lifted his four day old baby boy from sling around your chest as you watched, reaching up to smooth a finger down the baby’s soft, rosy cheek. Steve had been so excited when you had both told him you were pregnant. But you had all known deep down that Steve’s time was coming to an end. The serum wasn’t repairing what was happening to him anymore, and hadn’t been for a while. Steve had noticed its effects had been dwindling for almost thirty years by that point and he was ready to go, to be with Peggy who had left him some ten years previously. All of you had hoped he would live long enough to meet Baby Barnes, but things never do work out the way you want them to, and Steve had passed quietly surrounded by his friends and family some six weeks before your baby boy bad been born. Bucky had made a vow, a promise to himself that his son would understand exactly who his Uncle Stevie was. Not Captain America, but that little kid from Brooklyn who was always too dumb to run away from a fight. “Had to bring him to meet you one way or another.” Bucky said gently, looking from his son’s face to the stone with a soft smile before he crouched down in front of it. He took a moment, the words he was trying to form sticking in his throat as pure emotion washed over him. He felt grief, he felt loss, but also joy at the fact he was a new father and an overwhelming sense of gratitude and serenity that he had found his salvation, his second chance.

And it was draining to feel it all at once. You stepped forward, softly squeezing his shoulder before you crouched by his side, gently wiping the tears from your own face as Bucky finally found his voice again. “Yeah, it was a him, so I got to pick the name.” Besides him you chuckled. “I can still see your face, Stevie, when we told you about that deal. Girl I picked, boy he picked.” Watery blue eyes that still had that sparkle widened as Steve looked at you both, horror on his face as he shook his head on disbelief. “What? You can’t do that…I mean it needs to be a joint decision, no matter what the gender…surely?” In the end, Steve had been right. Whilst Bucky had suggested the first name for your little boy, he had struggled with a middle one and it had been you who had quietly suggested one as Bucky stood in the hospital room, gently rocking his new-born baby in his arms. Both of you had welled up with tears at the simplicity and the poignancy, and the utter love you both felt that your son would help keep the memory of your friend, your brother, your Captain, alive. “Punk,” Bucky gently shifted the baby in his arms so he was facing the stone. “Say hello to Steven Roger Barnes” His son. His beautiful son. A life created because two people fell in love. 

 Because James Buchanan Barnes had a Honey haloed weakness.

#honey haloed weakness #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #sam wilson

[doubleleoenergy]

The Chain

Listen to the wind blow, down comes the night. Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, passionate sex, LOTS of angst

Word Count: 2414

Author’s Notes: I wrote this for @buckyblues/@edenslibrary 4K Writing Challenge. The prompt I chose was the song The Chain by Fleetwood Mac, I absolutely LOVE Fleetwood Mac so this was a no brainer choice. I hope you all like it!

“Are you SCARED?” It’s a relatively normal question to ask after the events that have occurred over the past few days. They’d won, they’d really WON against Thanos, all forces joined together to retrieve the stones and make everything RIGHT. Of course, they hadn’t expected the victory to come at the expense of Tony Stark. He was a friend to them, a husband to Pepper and a father to Morgan. Tony was part of the many losses they’d endured from the moment Thanos snapped his fingers, and frankly, Steve was tired.

Tony’s funeral was set for the next morning followed by his MISSION to return all of the stones and Mjølnir to their EXACT spots in time. Steve was the first to offer up his services to return them, they’d already all lost so much and it just felt appropriate for him to bring them back. If anything went wrong, it was on him. And that was fine, he would lay down his life for the cause, just like Vision, Natasha, and Tony had done.

Steve was pulled from his thoughts by the delicate fingers wrapping around his chest from behind, the smell of her vanilla lavender perfume wafting through his nostrils. “Hm?” He asked, head turning over his shoulder to look at y/n.

“I said, are you scared? You know, for returning the stones.” Her voice was soft as she spoke, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Y/N HERSELF was nervous, but they were one mission away from the conclusion of the nightmare they’d been living over the past FIVE years. Although there’d be more missions to come, as always, she was looking forward to enjoying at least a few days of alone time relaxing with Steve.

Her question makes Steve shake his head, turning around where he sat to meet her gaze. “No, I’m not scared.” He was being honest, he wasn’t scared. More so, he was CURIOUS. He had learned that going back to return the stones would be quite simple, as long as he followed the same rules he had when they had originally retrieved them. However, there was one thought that crossed his mind about going back in time.

PEGGY. 

Peggy Carter had been stuck in his brain ever since he’d gone back in time with Tony and saw her, saw her in the FLESH. She was right there in front of him and he couldn’t do anything about it, given the mission at hand. Running into her would’ve changed EVERYTHING, but just seeing her for that brief moment in time made that familiar warmth for her grow in his chest. It was clear she still loved him when he’d seen the picture of himself on her desk, and of course, he still loved her. He always WOULD love her.

But then along came y/n and suddenly he had opened his heart to ANOTHER woman. They had met when he was running about his nomadic life, she was a pleasant surprise and a great ESCAPE for him. She’d been with him ever since, and he truly did LOVE her. And although he loved her, he still couldn’t get the scenario of returning the stones out of his head. What if he stayed in the 40’s with his first love Peggy Carter, living out the life he had once hoped they would have?

“Then what’s got you so deep in thought?” Her hands move to cup his face, moving him to look at her. “We don’t keep secrets, remember? You can tell me ANYTHING.” It was true, they refused to keep secrets between them; their relationship was built on communication and trust from the start.

Steve sighed, it’s not FAIR to keep his thoughts to himself, especially if it meant hurting her in the long run. He pulls her hands from his face, moving to hold them in his lap. His eyes stare at their hands together, unsure of how to start the conversation. “I’ve just been thinking about tomorrow, about returning the stones…” He pauses, furrowing his brows. “I told you that I saw Peggy when I went back with Tony to retrieve the tesseract. Of course I’m going to go back and return the stone to that point in time, and I can’t help but think about...WELL, about what life would’ve been like if I didn’t go into the ice. What would have happened if I made it back to her…”

Y/N’s heart is breaking at his words, she COMPLETELY understood how he felt about Peggy, and she had never minded when he spoke about her. It didn’t bother her of course because it was all related to the past, not related to the present or the FUTURE.

She’s distracting herself from crying by listening to the wind blow through the open window. She turns her head towards it, noticing how the night came down and enveloped the sky in the moon and stars. They sat in silence like this for a moment before she turned her attention back to him, letting go of his hands.

“I can’t believe you’d even THINK about that as a possibility.” She’s frustrated, getting up off the bed and running her hands through her hair. She didn’t LIKE this feeling, the feeling of being second best. She didn’t deserve to feel like that. “After all we’ve been through, after the YEARS of pain and suffering, after finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel...you want to throw all of this away...throw ME away.” Her voice is rising now but she can’t help it.

Steve doesn’t know how to respond, taking a few deep breaths to keep his composure. “I was just saying I was THINKING about it, nothing is set in stone.” Y/N can’t help but scoff at the words, her arms flailing as she speaks. “Nothing is set in STONE? I SHOULD be set in stone, this shouldn’t even be a discussion.” She hissed, fighting back tears once again. 

“I know, I KNOW okay? You asked me what I was thinking and I was being honest, as I have always been with you. There has always been a part of me that wondered what if with her, and then I met you and things have been INCREDIBLE, but the thoughts have never left” Steve admitted, a part of him wishing he hadn’t even been honest.

“This is it, Steve. Tomorrow is THE day you take those stones back so you’re going to have to make a decision.” She moves closer to the bed, arms crossed against her chest, her eyes locking on his blue hues as the tears that she had been keeping at bay start to fall down her cheeks. “If you don’t love me NOW, you will NEVER love me again.” She declared. “It’s me or Peggy. If you choose her I’m gone.”

Her tears pull him back to reality, what was he even THINKING? Was he really about to go back in time, return the stones, and go back to Peggy? What if what they had wasn’t enough to keep them together? He’d end up stuck in the past, unhappy with the decision he made, wishing he had chosen y/n instead.

“Babygirl…” The words are soft and she practically MELTS at his pet name for her. He stands up, pulling her into his chest, caressing her tousled hair. “I’m sorry...I DO love you, alright? I told you I wanted you forever and I do, I would NEVER break the chain.” The chain is how Steve liked to refer to their relationship, their BOND. ‘You and I are stronger than string, you’ve got me tied to you by a metal CHAIN babygirl..’ He had once said, back when they’d first gotten together in the nomad days.

Y/N slowly relaxes into his chest, the words loosening the pain she was feeling in her heart. “I love you SO much.” She leans up to press a kiss to his lips, rushed and sloppy and with EVERY bit of passion she had for him. Steve’s lips melt to her own, hands trailing down her back until they reach the bottom of her ass, tugging her up into his arms. Her hands are roaming through his hair, only breaking the kiss when they both have run out of AIR.

Steve wastes no time in tossing her gently against the bed, both of their hands clawing at buttons, zippers, and fabric until their clothes are thrown in a pile on the floor. “I love you too.” He whispers against her lips, fingers rubbing in circular motions against her clit. Y/N’s nails claw at Steve’s chiseled back, ARCHING her own as his lips place hot kisses to the skin of her collarbone.

Her nails rake down his sides until she reaches his cock, wrapping her hand around it and eliciting a GROAN of approval from Steve. “Need you, Steve...please.” She begged below him, hips rolling into his hand as he rubbed his fingers along her damp folds.

He nestles himself between her thighs, rubbing the tip of his cock against her wetness before pushing inch by inch inside. She’s so warm, so TIGHT around him, rolling his hips forward once more until he bottoms out. Y/N instinctively wraps her legs around him, pulling him as deep as she can, eyes closing in satisfaction. 

“You’re so WET babygirl...feel so good wrapped around my cock.” His hips move back and forth, pulling out until just the tip is inside her before plunging back in again. The rhythm is filled with passion, fucking into her like it was the LAST time he’d ever be able to do so.

“Fuck, Steve I’m gonna…” Her breath hitched as waves of pleasure rolled over her, Steve’s pace continuing as he fucked her through her orgasm. It isn’t much long after she had come undone before he does as well, pumping his seed deep inside, COATING her. They stay connected, taking several minutes to catch their breath before Steve pulls out, rolling over and tugging y/n into his side.

“That was incredible…” Steve mumbled, eyes closing. Y/N’s body calms against his side, her breathing heavy as sleep enveloped her. Steve rubbed his fingers up and down y/n’s back as she slept, the events of tomorrow continuing to play out in his mind until he also fell asleep.

Tony’s funeral had proceeded that morning without a hitch, everyone solemnly suffering as they shared stories of their former Avenger, their FRIEND. It happened to be a beautiful day out for the funeral, the sun shining brightly against the water. Tony wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Shortly after many of the attendees had filtered out, Steve changed out of his black suit and into the advanced tech suit he had worn the last time he went back in time with the Pym particles.

He stood with Bruce (half Hulked out) and Sam, watching the stones glisten as Bruce opened the clasp on the briefcase.

“Remember.” Bruce stated. “You have to return the stones to the EXACT moment you got ‘em or you’re gonna open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.”

“Don’t worry Bruce.” Steve replied, shutting the briefcase closed. “Clip all the branches.” Steve and Bruce talk briefly before Steve starts walking towards the time machine, Sam by his side.

“You know, if you want, I could come with you.” Sam is SERIOUS in his tone, Steve making eye contact with him. “You’re a good man, Sam. This one’s on me though.” Steve approaches Bucky next, a smile spreading across his face. “Don’t do anything stupid till I get back.” He orders, a matching smile spreading on Bucky’s own face. “How can I? You’re taking all the STUPID with you.” The two embrace for a moment before pulling away.

“Gonna miss you, buddy.” Bucky confessed, eyes twinging with sadness. Steve doesn’t want him to worry, turning his head before walking towards y/n. “It’s going to be okay, Buck.”

Steve’s hand comes up caress your cheek, gripping at your chin to pull you in for a kiss. It feels DIFFERENT from the rest, more FINAL. “I love you, y/n. I always will.” She furrows her brows at the comment, squeezing his bicep gently.

“I love you too, now go on, you’ve got some stones to return.”

Steve turns and walks up the stairs and into the time machine, holding the briefcase tightly in one hand with Mjølnir in the other. “How long is this gonna take?” Sam asks, turning to look at Bruce. “For him, as long as he needs. For us, five SECONDS. You ready, Cap?” Bruce inquired, resulting in a nod from Steve. “All right, we’ll meet you back here, okay?”

“You bet.” With that Steve closes his helmet, y/n letting go of a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Five seconds. It’ll just be five seconds and he’ll be BACK to her.

“Going quantum. Three...two...one…” With that Steve is snapped away, leaving everyone to look at the empty time machine. “And returning in five...four...three...two...one…” Bruce presses the button, a worried look on his face. He starts to play with a few buttons, y/n’s eyes widening with FEAR.

“Where is he?” Sam questioned, turning his head to Bruce. “I don’t know. He blew right by his time stamp. He should be here.”

“Bruce, get him the HELL back.” Y/N snarled, this could NOT be happening. What if he was stuck somewhere in time forever? As y/n, Sam, and Bruce converse Bucky notices something off in the distance, turning his voice to the attention of the group.

“Guys…” They all turn in Bucky’s direction, y/n walking over to him and searching for what he was looking at. Her eyes narrow in on someone sitting on a bench in the distance, a sigh of relief leaving her lips. She jogs towards the figure on the bench, a SMILE spreading on her face.

“Steve, I thought we lost you forever” Her voice trails off taking in the sight of him. Yes, it’s him, but he’s aged SIGNIFICANTLY. She looks over his outfit, noticing a thin band around his ring finger, THE ring finger.

“Y/N…” His voice is frail, turning to look at her, a sigh leaving his lips. “Y/N, I’m REALLY sorry.”

Hot tears start to stream down her face, her head shaking in disbelief. How could he? After last night, how could he do THIS?

“I can STILL hear you saying you would never break the CHAIN...”

Taglist: @turtoix

#buckyblues 4k challenge #buckyblues #edenslibary #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers #marvel fic #marvel

[apocalypseornaw]

Walk Away-3

After so long apart you finally agree to see Sam and tell him the truth

You groaned as you sat back against the wall hoping this newest wave of nausea would pass.. It was normal according to the obgyn Tasha had helped you get into. You had just entered into your second trimester and found out the gender of the baby at your last appointment. She was growing perfectly and doing a number on your insides in the process. You heard someone clear their throat and looked up to see Max leaned against the doorway leading into the bathroom with a cup of tea in his hand. He held it out to you with a smile “Ginger tea with honey and lemon” You thanked him as you took the cup and allowed yourself a small sip of the warm liquid. 

He walked a little further into the room before sitting down next to you his long legs stretched out in front of him “Donna Hanscum called again” you nodded before saying “That doesn’t really surprise me..has Jody and the girls started their rounds again?” he let out a sharp laugh “Not yet, it holds them off when they can talk with you but I had to tell Donna you weren’t here considering you don’t want Sam to know you’re currently starting to move past smuggling a basketball into smuggling a beach ball” “He doesn’t need to know” you mumbled but Max shook his head “He loves you Y/N. I don’t know what happened but he wouldn’t be trying this hard to get you to talk to him if he didn’t”

You leaned your head back against the wall then rolled your head over to look at Max “If and it’s a big if but if I was to agree to see him and Dean could you put a glamour on me?” his eyes went to your ever growing stomach “Oh you mean to hide the bump?” you nodded and he scratched his chin in thought then nodded “I think I can manage that with Alicia’s help. I’ll call Erik too, he's better at stuff along those lines” “Thanks Max and thank Erik for me too” he stood to go call Erik who was his boyfriend of a little over three years. You’d known him for a while but had gotten to know him better over the last few weeks considering his mom was your doctor. “When are you going to call Sam?” he asked from the door so you shrugged “When Jody calls I’ll tell her it’s fine to give Dean my new number then go from there” he nodded then walked out the room.

------

Sam was sitting at the table in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee and trying to ignore just how much the bunker itself seemed to miss your presence. How had he messed everything up this bad? How had Dean been able to see just how much pain you were in but he couldn’t? Christ he was an idiot. If he could do it over he would have never gone on that very first hunt where all of you met Lila.

She didn’t hold a candle to you. You were...hell you were a force of nature. Everyone who knew you was drawn to you. You were caring but strong, courageous but smart. You would dive in feet first to help someone you cared about and even strangers. He’d seen you go toe to toe with more than one demon just to save a life. You were a soft touch when needed but also was the first to make someone shake off any self doubt and get their fire back.

When Alex had needed help paying for college you’d found grants seemingly out of thin air. When Patience would get upset about her broken relationship with her father she’d call you. You were one of the few people Claire would take advice from without rolling her eyes.

As for the way you’d changed not only his life but Dean and Cas’ as well he didn’t have the words for. Dean never got a chance to withdraw into himself with you around because you’d be at his door slipping new cds under it or bribing him out with food and western movie marathons. Cas always seemed to brighten up when you walked into a room because you never let a day pass without reminding him just how important he was to what you called your family group.

When you’d come into Sam’s life you’d knocked him flat on his ass metaphorically speaking and literally speaking. He’d ended up catching a punch from you on accident. Dean had teased him that your right hook was what made him fall in love with you. Looking up to see a woman as beautiful as you were apologizing but calling him an idiot for getting in your way at the same time did help matters. From that day forward you were all he could think about. The day you finally moved into the bunker was the happiest day of his life. 

The dreams of a so-called normal life was behind him but with you a new normal started to form in his mind. He never felt more whole than when you were in his arms. Waking up to you curled against his chest or with his arm around your waist was the most peace he’d ever felt. He loved you more than he ever dreamed possible to love someone after losing Jess. He felt like such a failure because he had apparently not shown you that. When you started to talk with Donna, Jody and the girls at least he knew you were alive,healthy and indeed staying with the Banes twins. 

He knew they lived near a small town on the upper west coast but that was all he did know. He wanted nothing more than to track them down and beg for the chance to see you but for now at least knowing you were ok was the best compromise he was going to get. He sighed and looked down at his laptop. He had a few news websites up but his heart wasn’t in trying to find a case, his heart was wherever you were. He could hear Dean talking to someone in the library and thought maybe he had a case until he heard Dean say your name. 

He quickly moved around the corner to see Dean pacing across the floor as he spoke on the phone. He caught a few words of what Dean was saying “Are you sure?...Yeah I promise...look you have my word...I will...ok...and sweetheart it’s good to hear from you” Was Dean talking to you? Why had you called Dean? Was something wrong? Were you hurt? He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he hadn’t realized Dean had not only hung up but had called his name three times.

“SAM!” Dean spoke harshly and he blinked a few times glancing at the phone still in his brother’s hand “Was that Y/N?” Dean nodded “Yeah she told Jody it was ok to pass her new number on to me..She’s willing to see you but she has a few conditions” “Anything, I’ll agree to anything” Sam answered quickly his mind going into overdrive at the thought of seeing you. 

Dean nodded again then said “Grab your stuff. I’ll text her and let her know we’re hitting the road. I’ve got to call Max when we get close enough and he’ll come meet us to lead us up to their place”

------

“Are you sure you can’t tell?” you asked Erik for the sixth time since he’d finished the glamour. He sighed and shook his head “I’m sure. I’ve hid entire buildings, your little baby bump isn’t even a challenge” you smiled then smoothed the shirt you were wearing self consciously. 

“Alicia why did I agree to talk to Sam again?” She walked in behind you and held out a bottle of water “Because you’re still in love with him, it’s blaringly obvious no matter what happened he’s still in love with you because they’ve made the trip from Lebanon in record time. Even if today doesn’t go well at least you know you tried” you took a deep breath and nodded. She was right of course. When Erik’s phone went off you nearly jumped out of your skin but his hand on your arm kept you in place “Calm down Y/N, that was just Max. They’re coming up the driveway”

No sooner than the words came out of Erik’s mouth you heard the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine. Any other time that was music to your ears but now it made you a little queasy. Erik shot you a smile before grabbing his jacket “Me and Max are headed into town but when you want to lower the glamour I showed Alicia how ok?” you nodded “Thanks again Erik” “Anytime”

------

You took a deep breath when you heard the boots on the porch so Alicia moved to answer the door. You weren’t in direct eyesight so you heard Dean first say “Alicia, good to see you” she greeted him then said “Hi Sam” you felt your heart flip when he said “Hey Alicia, I um thank you for being a place she could come to” “She’s always welcome wherever me and Max are and we make sure she knows it” that was one of the many things you loved about Alicia. Her words and tone of voice was friendly but the underlying venom of having comforted a hurt friend was still very much there.

“Y/N?” Alicia called out as she shut the door behind the boys as if she didn’t know for a fact you were hiding in the small hallway between the front door and kitchen. “Right here” you replied stepping around the corner. Dean smiled when he saw you “Well you’re a sight for sore eyes” you were glad when he just hugged you with one arm around your shoulders on the off chance of him brushing against your stomach.

“I see you’ve actually managed to stay alive without me which is a miracle in itself” you teased with a tense smile trying to calm your nerves before meeting Sam’s eyes. God those fucking eyes of his. You stood there for a second staring at each other before Dean turned to Alicia “You got something to drink? Alcoholic or otherwise. I’d settle for tea or coffee” she gave him a small smile before winking at you and herding him towards the kitchen.

Once the two of you were alone you both started to speak at the same time. You laughed nervously “You want to go first?” he nodded then let out a harsh breath “I’m sorry. I know that probably falls flat but I am. You are the most important person in my life. I love you with everything in me and I failed to show you that. I failed to realize how much my actions were hurting you. I made you think I wanted someone else and I pushed you away. I don’t expect you to forgive me and I don’t expect you to come back with me but I’m grateful you chose to let me come here and tell you that face to face”  You should’ve known with pregnancy hormones on top of everything else that you’d end up in tears. You wiped them away before they could fall before saying “Sam..god just tell me why? Why did you act like that towards her? Was the attachment to me the only thing stopping you? The fear of all our friends taking my side? Of your brother siding with me?” 

“Baby no” he breathed and took a step towards you but when you quickly crossed your arms over your chest and stepped back he froze in his tracks. “I guess it was the feeling of losing someone you love to a demon. I’ve been there before then with what happened to her husband. It got me thinking about what happened to Jess happening to you. That’s not an excuse because you told me that you wanted other hunters backing her and I didn’t listen but please baby please know I have never wanted anyone else since the day I met you” 

“But you didn’t listen to me Sam. That’s why I left! That’s why I came here and got them to ward me so you couldn’t find me. I couldn’t sit around waiting for you to break my heart and I’m not coming back with you no matter how much I want nothing more than to jump into your arms right now. If you want us...If you want a second chance before I tell you something I need a promise that you’ll be ok with it taking time, with me being here and you in Lebanon. I need you to actually think about it before you answer me Sam” you were trying so hard not to cry because you knew for a fact Dean and Alicia were standing just on the other side of that kitchen door waiting to intervene if you needed them to.

“I’d do anything for a second chance for us, to prove to you just how much you mean to me” you nodded slowly then called out “Alicia can you and Dean come here?” the door swung open quickly to both of them nearly stumbling over each other. “Yeah sweetie?” she asked so you braced yourself then said “They need to know” “And you’re sure?” she questioned so you nodded “Yeah I’m sure” 

“Need to know what?” Dean asked but Alicia was already repeating the words Erik had told her would drop the glamour. The moment it faded and your stomach was back visibly rounded Dean’s eyes widened and poor Sam looked like he may faint or puke. “Is that why you left?” Sam asked quietly and you shook your head “I didn’t find out until about a month after I left. That’s why I came here”

Dean recovered quicker and held a hand out “Can I?” you nodded “She is your niece after all” “Niece, so it’s a girl?” he asked with a grin. Your hand came to cover Dean’s so you could place it on the light movements but your eyes never left Sam’s as you said “Yeah I just found out last week” a light kick made Dean’s grin get bigger “Look at that. She’s strong already” “Just like her mom” Alicia replied then reached for Dean’s arm “Let’s give them another minute” Dean nodded and kissed your cheek before saying “I love you kid and I’m gonna love her too” then followed her back into the kitchen.

Sam had remained silent so you finally looked up at him “Are you going to say anything?” a slight smile slipped onto his face before he quietly said “Can I touch you now? Because I really want to hug you and feel our daughter move” you moved towards him and he pulled you against his chest without hesitation. One large hand held your back while the other rested on your stomach “I love you Y/N. I’ll prove to you that things will be different. Nothing means more to me than you and her” you smiled up at him through the tears in your eyes “I love you too Sam” 

Tags: @delightfullykrispypeach @fofisstilinski @chengukargbo @rosalynshields @hunting-the-grievers @spngirl05

#spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester x female!reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction

[masterthespianduchovny]

Some people gon be mad at me, but I gotta say it...

Some Scully fans don't understand Scully or her relationship/feelings with/for Mulder.

Scully's relationship with Mulder is this utterly pure thing that is grounded by how much she genuinely cares, respects, and supports him as a person. When you understand Scully's perception of Mulder in this view, seeing her as some long suffering woman doesn't make any sense.

Most of the time Scully sacrifices or choosing Mulder isn't based on romantic feelings, it's based in moral and ethical values and what she holds important. The show sets this up early.

In Squeeze, Tom asks "who's side are you on" and Scully says, "the victim."

This coincides with the side Mulder is on.

Tom was obstructing the case due to his on bias and hatred of Mulder. Despite Mulder's pettiness, Scully understands that Mulder will always prioritize the victim. She chose justice (Mulder) over pettiness (Tom).

When Scully declines a second date with the single father, she's choosing knowledge and curiosity over romance and her personal life.

Interestingly enough, Mulder never asked her to choose him. He's always asked her to be honest about the truth, but he never put her in that situation to prioritize him over her own professional goals or personal life. In fact, he would've understood if she did and said as much.

So when I say some Scully fans don't understand Scully, I'm not being insulting or intentionally rude, I'm saying they're overlooking small character moments that inform her characterization throughout the series.

Scully was not only a workaholic, she LOVED her work. And there wasn't just an obligation to Mulder, it was to the victims as well. I often think about how in this universe, if Mulder and Scully hadn't investigated these cases, either no one would've or it would've never been solved. It must've been something Scully also thought about as well.

Scully mentioned a few times that she joined the FBI to make a difference. Not for prestige or make a name for herself, but to make a difference. She didn't throw away her career for Mulder, she was exactly where she wanted to be. Those other cases handled by mainstream agents were always going to be investigated and solved (if possible), but x file cases?

There's a reason Mulder was called from bumfuck, Kansas or backwoods, West Virginia. There was no one else. Her and Mulder were the only two who took these things seriously.

But also, Scully genuinely genuinely cared for Mulder. Not because she wanted to fuck him, thought he was hot, or really wanted to date him. She enjoyed him as a person. Like truly. After working with him, understanding this beliefs, and meeting many victims, the x files became her passion project too. She attached herself to Mulder because there was no one alive she respected more than him. Someone who stood by their convictions regardless of what others thought to the betterment of people besides him.

He had his flaws, but the great parts of Mulder truly outshined the worst parts of him.

People often overlook how much the x files and her experience changed Scully. The deadpan, straight to the point Scully we know and love came to fruition in season 5. Believe me, I checked. Remember, Scully used to be goofy, open, and free. Then she was abducted, given cancer, kidnapped, sister killed over mistaken identity, etc. That changes a person.

But none of this is Mulder's fault. Mulder changed her in the best way possible. He opened her mind up and challenged her--it was intellectual. Those other things I mentioned made Scully pull within herself and close off. It made her guarded. So suffered so much emotional and mental and literal physical trauma.

As a result, her social interactions changed.

As a reminder, she became a workaholic because of her passion for the x files and she enjoyed it. Then to add on to that, her work was wild as hell, hard to explain, and some of it classified. Scully lived such a unique experience that regularly interacting with others would've been frustrating, exhausting, and her having a sense of feeling misunderstood. And dating would've been a minefield.

Thing is: Scully didn't mind this change to her life. This isn't to say that Scully didn't want or have any friends, it's to say that she didn't strive to have a booming social life nor did she care. Again, she VOLUNTARILY became a workaholic and threw away a normal life for paranormal shit. Someone who does that isn't trying to meet friends for happy hour on Friday or planning to have serious relationships any time soon.

Not only that, some people live lives like this right now and have incredibly fulfilling lives. Some people just work and have one or two friends and they're living their best lives. The idea that just because Scully doesn't have an active dating life and a circle of friends she regularly talks to means that her life is dour is so flawed.

Scully's eventual dissatisfaction with her life was rooted in her believing she should want things that she didn't want. Scully could've walked away. She could've said enough, instead she kept finding reasons to stay because she wanted to be on the x files. And it's quite clear that you can't work on the x files and have a normal life. She didn't want both, she wanted the life that she chose.

At that time, Scully was unable to articulate just how much she wanted to be with Mulder, which is why she positions, "Don't you want to get out of the car?"

She wanted moments of normalcy with him.

And it isn't just because Mulder gets that life because he lives it, its because Scully is actually in love with Mulder for who he is. She's seen Mulder at his best and at his worst and loves every part of him.

Whatever feelings Scully had for Mulder in the past that she pushed away, she couldn't do it anymore. She loved Mulder in a way she couldn't put into words. It was the truest feeling she ever felt, the most sincere thing and she hadn't realized it yet. Then, when she does, it takes them time to get there because Mulder is literally the most important person in her life.

Which seeds were planted back in season 2. In "Little Green Men" (I think), the thought of not working with Mulder saddened Scully because it meant she wouldn't get to see and talk to him. Mulder made a huge impression on her and became important to her very quickly.

So imagine 5-7 years down the road...embracing this feeling and the thought of losing Mulder if things went south would've been devastating for Scully. She wouldn't lose just a partner, she'd lose a best friend too.

Because she genuinely cared for him and he's her literal best friend.

The love Scully feels for Mulder surpasses known definitions of romantic love because her feelings aren't centered in that. She loves him on levels that most people can't imagine. Scully cares for Mulder so much and she shows that by listening to him and protecting him even if Mulder doesn't think he needs protection. She validates him and doesn't trivialize his beliefs even when she doesn't agree with them. It doesn't matter who the person is, Scully will always go to bat for Mulder because he only ever had himself and he needs to someone to say "hey, you're not alone and you're taken seriously."

I bring this up to say, the idea that Mulder doesn't deserve Scully when Scully clearly wants him is flawed. The idea that Mulder should be lucky that Scully "puts up" with him is flawed. The idea that Scully would ever tell Mulder as such or anything resembling (and stressing how she could've been happy with this perfect other man) is flawed. Those first two things are categorically wrong and the last is something Scully would never do because she loves Mulder and that is harmful. Scully would never tell Mulder something that would harm him or that she believed could.

All Things is so pivotal because Scully stops concerning herself with what she believe she should want and embracing what she actually wants: investigating x files and living an unconventional life with Mulder.

Scully wants that.

Not dating around, girls night, or frequent intimate get togethers with her family. She wants to investigate haunted houses on Christmas Eve and discover invisible bodies and help victims find justice.

After her and Mulder get together, she's committed to him. She waited so long to be with him that even while he was in hiding, she never considered dating anyone else. Emotionally and spiritually, she'd been married to him. Now that they'd been together, she didn't want anyone else but him.

Like there's so many layers to this, which hasn't even taken the "like a switch" speech. Or her reaction to Diana, which had multiple levels--romantic, platonic, and professional.

Lastly, the idea that Scully was waiting around for Mulder (to ask her out) is such a basic take. Scully wasn't waiting on Mulder, she prioritized their working relationship over romance AND she knew Mulder had his own stuff going on with himself. Even if she had wanted to date then, she didn't fault Mulder for not asking her out. All the shit he'd been through and was going through, Scully was more concerned about his emotional well-being opposed to upset that he hadn't pursued her.

Although I do get the criticism and the desire for Scully to date, have on screen friends, and shit, it just doesn't track with what we've seen and know of Scully.

Like, this woman almost went on the run with Mulder after knowing him for 2-3 years. They only reason they didn't was because she wanted to see her sister who'd been shot. The reason she almost went on the run was due to moral and ethical reasons and not romance, however, my point is that Scully's convictions and priorities is why her life was the way it was and that's the way she wanted it to be. She then went on the run with him when she didn't have to, but we know she would because 1. his sentence was an injustice (we know how Scully feels about justice) 2. she was madly in love with him and refused to continue living her life without him.

Once again, Scully is discarding any notion of normalcy because she didn't want it and hadn't wanted it since getting assigned to the x files.

And that's on that.

(And it's why I object to the characterization of their relationship in IWTB and seasons 10 and 11. Although it's fine and makes sense for their relationship to have issues at times, the writers handled it so cavalierly and without thought. You cannot have the backbone of the show in a romantic falling out and not address it--not really. They don't try to genuinely deal with such a situation because it's melodrama, but my question is: why introduce it in the first place. If it isn't worth being addressed, it's not worth being introduced. Mulder and Scully had a chat or two, but it was so superficial and lacked teeth. It's not that I wanted the show to focus on them romantically, I just want the show to not bullshit or half ass shit they're introducing and bringing up is all.)

#x files #scully #dana scully #mulder #fox mulder #sorry for being long as fuck #we all know I'm longwinded #lol

[carothepoet]

Perspectives

If anyone had asked, Jack would have said that he fell in love first. Somewhere in the murky middle of fiery blue eyes daring him to dismiss her capabilities, the comforting squeeze of her hand when an alien device pinned him to a wall, her uncanny ability to manipulate the laws of physics to save his ass over and over again, and the moment on a Goa’uld vessel with an energy field separating them and death staring them in the face, Samantha Carter had gotten possession of his heart and soul and taken up permanent residence there. That last instance was when he had known it for sure—looking into her panicked eyes and realizing he had two choices: leave her or die with her. Knowing also that there was no choice to be made, because there was no version of him in any reality that could go on living in a world without Carter.

Sir, just go!

NO.

It was a staggering revelation, and it complicated things a whole hell of a lot. He kept it to himself until it was forced out of him, and then he and Carter looked into each other’s eyes, counted the cost, and vowed to never speak of it again. The fate of the galaxy was too important. But no amount of pretending could change the reality, which was that he still loved her beyond all comprehension. He went about the days as normally as possible, leading his team and fighting the endless alien wars, trying not to think about the possibilities of someday, when it was unlikely either of them would stay alive that long. He hoped, at least, that he would go first. There is only so much loss a man can take.

Four years later, after he had saved the planet countless times and nearly died in every single instance, he was offered a position at the Pentagon. He jumped at it. Maybe now. Maybe? It seemed too much to hope.

He told Carter. You once asked me what might have been if things had been different. Well, now they’re different. Still interested in finding out?

He’d never forget the light that flooded her eyes, her smile out-dazzling the sun, as she practically launched herself at him and smothered him with a kiss eight years in the making. He’d kissed her once before, when the SGC had been trapped in a time loop. But this was better. This was real. She was kissing him, and she would remember it this time.

And with any luck, there’d be many more kisses to follow.

*

If anyone had asked, Sam would have said that she fell in love first. Even on the day they met, when Jack been a condescending ass and acted like she wasn’t worth his time, he’d changed his attitude the second she stood up to him. And then he’d insulted Samuels just to get a reaction out of her and she’d smiled before she knew what she was doing. I shouldn’t encourage him, she’d thought to herself, and he must have read her mind and considered it a personal challenge, because he’d had her choking back laughter and smothering smiles ever since.  

It was unprofessional, of course, these forbidden feelings for her commanding officer. But she couldn’t help it, any more than she could help laughing at his stupid jokes. She thought, sometimes, that maybe he felt it too—there was a certain tenderness in his eyes when he smiled at her, and he often sought her out in her lab when she was buried in experiments.

Watcha doing? he would ask. She would explain. He would pretend to be too dumb to understand, say something absurd, and she would laugh. Get some rest, Carter. That’s an order.

He said her name like an endearment, and she held on to those moments and savored them. Maybe she was imagining things. Maybe he didn’t love her. But she loved him, and she would follow him to the ends of the universe and save his ass as many times as he needed her to.

It ended up being a lot of times.

She went through hell and back trying to keep him safe, and she couldn’t decide if the revelation that he loved her back made it better or worse. Some days it was definitely worse.

She held on to hope until she couldn’t anymore, and then proceeded to almost make the biggest mistake of her life--nearly marrying Pete Shanahan. But when her father was dying, it was not Pete who stayed with her, who wrapped his arm around her and promised to be there for her, always. Sam looked into Jack’s steadfast brown eyes and saw the rest of her life.

By the time Jack was promoted to the Pentagon, she’d made up her mind. If he didn’t bring it up, then she was going to. She was damned if she would wait another single second when they both knew.

In the end, he brought it up. He’d barely gotten the words out of his mouth before she found herself kissing him, and the amazing thing was how familiar it felt, as if her lips had belonged on his since the beginning. His arms were home and his lips were both lazy Saturdays and off-world adventure, and every bit of pain and struggle and longing had been worth this perfect moment.

Stay with me, Carter?

Always, Sir. Always.

*

If anyone had asked, Teal’c and Daniel would have said that they knew Jack and Sam were in love long before those two idiots were aware of it, and that they had an ongoing debate on how long Jack and Sam could hold out before the unresolved sexual tension became too much to bear. Teal’c, for his part, maintained that both of them were far too professional to ever let their feelings get in the way of missions. Daniel wished they’d just get a room already and to hell with the consequences.

But it went on. And on. And on. For eight years. Eight years Daniel and Teal’c had to witness the yearning and the pining and the noble self-sacrifice; had to watch them fall apart with fear whenever one of them went missing; had to watch them try not to fall apart with relief when the other one finally turned up again.

Oh, you have returned! I worried about you a completely normal amount. I definitely did not push my health to the very brink of functioning in an attempt to rescue you. I missed you so much I couldn’t breathe, but, like, platonically. Of course.

It was exhausting.

No one was more relieved than Daniel when, on the same day that Jack accepted his position in DC, he came to Daniel’s house with the news that he and Carter were officially A Thing, but they did not want a big deal made out of it; and furthermore—

Fucking finally, said Daniel.

Jack grinned wickedly. Couldn’t have said it better myself.

*

If anyone had asked, General Hammond would have categorically denied knowing anything about it. Not that he didn’t see things. He saw pretty much everything that happened at his facility. He saw, for instance, the way Colonel O’Neill and Major Carter sat just slightly too close together at the briefing table; her knee brushing up against O’Neill’s arm as it rested on the armrest. He saw the looks they exchanged with each other; the way they could communicate paragraphs with a single glance, with a subtle lift of the eyebrows. He saw how O’Neill’s eyes softened when Carter entered the room; how Carter’s whole body lit up with suppressed mirth when O’Neill uttered whatever absurdity had made it past the brain-to-mouth filter.

He saw Carter’s desperation when O’Neill was stranded on Edora, and O’Neill’s despair when Carter’s brain was taken over by an alien entity.

I know Major Carter means a great deal to you.

She’s a very valuable member of my team, Sir.

Even with Carter’s likely and imminent death staring him in the face, O’Neill would not accept comfort from his trusted commanding officer if there was even the slightest risk it might damage her reputation. But he sat at her bedside and refused to leave it until she came back to herself.

Hammond often questioned whether their obvious attachment made them an asset or a liability. But time and again, SG-1 came through and saved the world, and he knew the effectiveness of that team came down, in large part, to the deep bond between O’Neill and Carter. Splitting them up could put the whole planet in jeopardy.

So, officially speaking, he saw nothing. And privately, unofficially, he was rooting for them. Because, damn it, the both of them had been through their own kinds of hell and they deserved to be happy.

He retired and left the facility to O’Neill. He was taking a final farewell look around his office when O’Neill swaggered in.

Hammond smiled. Are you ready for this?

Oh, absolutely, Sir. Not the slightest bit of…trepidation. O’Neill’s face belied his words, and Hammond reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.

There is no one better for this job than you.

I will do my best to fill your shoes, Sir.

Hammond turned to go, hesitated, and faced O’Neill one last time. Jack, may I give you a piece of advice? As a friend.

O’Neill’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, but he gave a quick nod. Sure.

I have been a military man for most of my life. But I am also a family man. And while I would never advise you to break regulations—

General—

No, hear me out. Hammond put both hands on O’Neill’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. If you love her, find a way to make it work. You won’t ever regret it.

O’Neill blinked, perhaps in shock, and then his eyes began to twinkle. I don’t know what you’re talking about, General.

Of course you don’t. Hammond gave him an understanding clap on the shoulder and walked out.

Eighteen months later, when the wedding invitation arrived in the mail, he knew he should have been surprised but he wasn’t. On the back of the invitation, in Jack O’Neill’s distinctive scrawl, were two words:

No regrets.

Hammond threw back his head and laughed.

It was about damn time.

#stargate sg1 #stargate sg1 fic #jack x sam #jack o'neill #samantha carter #daniel jackson #teal'c #richard dean anderson #amanda tapping #fanfic

[sweet-taiyaki]

American Girl

Disclaimer: Very new to the BNHA fandom/fanfiction world. So feedback is very much welcomed.

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Fem!Reader (she/her)

Featuring: Students of class 1-A, Shota Aizawa, Principle Nezu

Word Count: 4.2k

Synopsis: You are a new student at UA in class 1-A, now 2-A. You try to fit in and make friends, but no one really trusts you. You befriend Todoroki, but then you are kidnapped by a villain, and he wants to save you.

Quirk: Telekinesis at any distance.  

Warnings: Violence, angst, suggestive sexual theme, some mentions of blood, language because Bakugo, finishes with fluff

----------------------------------------------------------------

It was a normal day at UA High School. It was also the first day of our second year as students. Since all of us now have our provisional licenses, we can fight crime with the pros when need be. Life was good.

“Iida! Ochaco! Todoroki! Over here,” Deku calls. They all gather together before school and all the cliques catch up on their hero adventures over the summer during their personal getaways to help them become better heroes.

All the students return to their respective class. Class 1-A is now Class 2-A and Pro Hero Shota Aizawa is again their teacher.

“Everyone, please, take your seats. I’m sure we are all excited to see Mr. Aizawa again,” Iida broadcasted.

“Pft, fucking nerd,” Bakago said under his breath. The students took their seats.

“Good morning class,” Aizawa said.

“Good morning, Mr. Aizawa,” everyone said.

“It is good to see you all back here, but you must know that more and more obstacles will enter your life and I will prepare you for those circumstances. For now, we are learning the principles of the amount of strength in your---”

“Excuse me for interrupting, but I have some news for your class, Mr. Aizawa,” Principle Nezu barged in.

“Good morning, principle Nezu,” everyone said.

“What’s the news, sir,” Aizawa said on alert.

“I’d like to introduce (Y/N). She’s from America and will be joining your hero course this year.”

“Another girl in our class?” Mineta and Kaminari said simultaneously.

“Yes, she is up to date with her studies and hero work from her previous academy. I’m sure that she is a good fit for UA. Bye bye now,” he leaves.

“(Y/N), I will get a desk for you. I’ll be back. Students, please be nice,” Aizawa said.

The class just stared at me. I look down at the floor as I move to the back of the classroom. Bakugo cuts me off and scuffs.

“What’s your quirk, new girl,” he asked aggressively.

“Uh, well, I---” I started.

“She’s from America, so I’m not sure she might even have one. It’s more common here than it is over there. I would think,” Sato said.

“Well whatever it is, I’m sure I can beat you,” Bakugo said.

I made my way to the back of the classroom behind Todoroki and Yaoyorozu. I could feel their eyes staring at me as some giggle and talk. Everyone has their friend group, and I was the outsider with no one.

Mr. Aizawa comes back and sets a desk next to me. “Welcome, (Y/N). Would you care to show us your quirk in front of the class?”

I make my way back to the front with eyes burning into my body with curiosity.

“I bet it’s something stupid, like water manipulation or something,” Bakugo laughed.

I look around to see what I could use me telekinetic power with. I move from a distance and raise the podium with my mind.

“Whoa,” Deku said, ��Telekinesis! I’ve always wanted to meet someone with a mind power. There’s so many questions.”

“So basically like mine, but you don’t touch the object. Aww, I was hoping she would transform into something cool,” Ochaco said.

“Very well,” Aizawa said, “You can take your seat. Today, we are going to learn the principles in the amount of strength in your quirks, using physics and anatomy.”

The class moans as he continues the lecture.

……………………………………..........................

Class ends and the students return to the dorms. 2-A dorms are more spacious and a larger common room. All the students are receiving help from each other to move in. I struggled a little bit with my things. Deku ran over to me. “Hey, (Y/N), right,” he asked. I nodded and he helped me with one of my bags. “I hope you know that we have your back. Class 2-A never gives up and we all do our best and since you’re one of us now, I think you’d be a great addition to the class.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I promise that I will never give up and do my best!”

Deku smiled as he helped carry a bag to my room.

All the students are chilling in the common room in casual conversation. “Where’s (Y/N),” Deku asked. “Yeah, I wonder how big her boobs are. I researched that the average size is much larger in America,” Mineta said. “Alright, you crossed the line,” Kirishima said. “I think I saw her go to sleep. She maybe had a long day of traveling and the jetlag got her,” Tsu said. Everyone started to turn in. Todoroki looked out the window to watch the sunset.

I saw Todoroki sitting at the sill, half asleep. I snuck past him to go outside to train. I play classical music in my earbuds as I create my symphony of moving things with my mind. There was water nearby that I started to play with. I watched how I move it and it was almost like an art. Dancing water is so soothing. I gathered some loose leaves and made them dance with the water. I briefly close my eyes as I feel the music. “Hey, you’re the---” a voice I heard through my headphones. I take all the things I was mentally holding towards the voice before it hit them. He looked pretty shaken up. “I’m sorry,” I said lowering the items. “I didn’t know you were watching.”

“My name is Shoto Todoroki. I see that you are pretty quiet. Does that mean you are a threat?” His flames and frost started to ignite.  

“You are also quiet, to my understanding. So why judge on personality,” I asked lifting some rocks.

“I strive to be a better hero than my father.  You could be a villain that just turns up out of nowhere to gain access to the school and our training. I don’t trust you,” he said.

“I understand. Does that mean you underestimate me?”

He throws his fire at me. Instead of dodging, I tried to see if I can hold a gas. I’ve only attempted to hold solids, but it would be a challenge to contain and hold a gas. When the fire got close, I used all of my mental capacity to hold and control it. Todoroki dropped his hands as he watched me hold his fire. I watched the fire as I made it dance in the air before it went out.

“A villain would have thrown your fire back at you for revenge. Yes, I use objects to attack, but I know not to use other quirks against themselves,” I said.

“You’re smart. I’ll give you that,” he pauses. “I didn’t know you could hold fire.”

“I’m working on holding all states of matter. Gases are a little difficult for me, but it is obtainable.” We both exchange glances with small smiles. “So your father? He must be a pro,” I said to break the silence.

“Yes, he’s Endeavor, the number one hero.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is. What’s his quirk?”

“You don’t know who Endeavor is? Well after All Might retired, he took his place. He enhances and manipulates fire. He doesn’t treat my family well, which is why our relationship is complicated,” he said.

“Did he—did he burn your face,” I asked with sympathy.

“No, that was my mother. She was scared that I was going to turn into him. My father just wants to improve for his personal success. I want to save people from danger and help others around me, which is why I will surpass him,” he said confidently.

“You already sound like a pro,” I smiled. He smiled back running his hands through his hair.

I immediately feel a pain. It was not a migraine or headache. I knew exactly what it was, but why now? When I have a possible chance of having a friend. Why? I grabbed my head in pain as it got closer. “(Y/N), are you okay,” he asked as I continue to hold my head.

A tall figure swooped in and grabbed me by the neck. He was wearing a long, black jacket with every language on them. “(Y/N), wir treffen uns wieder (we meet again),” it said in German. Todoroki was on his guard to fight. “No, Shoto. Don’t fight. He’s a---”

Before I could finish my sentence, the figure flew off with me. “(Y/N)!” Todoroki yelled.

I was held hostage in his lair.

“Linguist, why did you follow me?”

“Oh (Y/N). I missed you. There wasn’t anyone I could play with, so I came here to see you. It looks like you are going to a hero school. That’s exciting. Perhaps I could make an alliance to join my German team of villains.” He held a knife to my throat and hooked me up to his mind enhancing device. The mind enhancing device was to manipulate people with mental quirks. There are certain levels, and he would always use the highest setting on me since he liked to see me in pain. “Help me lift these, unless you want your classmates to die.” My eyes widen as he revealed his attack robots.

Meanwhile, Deku, Uraraka, Iida, and Todoroki walked to class. Todoroki held his head low. “Todoroki, are you alright? You’ve been pretty down this morning,” Iida said. “The new girl, she was taken last night. I didn’t get the chance to save her,” he said.

“We must find her,” Deku said confidently.

“No,” Todoroki went on, “She said not to fight.”

They all enter the classroom to see (Y/N) at her desk. “Uh, Shoto, she’s right there. Are you sure you’re okay,” Uraraka said. Confused, Todoroki and Deku came over.

“What—what are you doing here,” Todoroki said.

“I’m here for school, like you,” I said.

“But you were in trouble and you told me not to fight,” he said.

“I didn’t want you to get in trouble. I let him take me, but don’t worry. I’m alright now.”

“Was he a villain,” Deku said.

Hesitantly, I did not want to reveal the Linguist to them, so that everyone in the class would know. Everyone here wants to be a hero and help me, but I didn’t want to sulk being the weakest student here. I can take him. I can beat him and I will. Alone. Besides, it is an ongoing battle between me and him due to our pasts. Should I trust Todoroki to open up to him about my past? No. It’s too soon and I don’t know who I can trust here. I’m brand new.

“No,” I sighed. Class started and everyone took their seats. Present Mic was lecturing the class today. I took notes and I look up to see Todoroki staring at me with concern. I continue to write my notes and he turns himself around.

Class was dismissed for the day and everyone was hanging out in the dorms. “Let’s do some baking party to help Sato with his sugar strength!” Mina said excitedly. Bashfully, Sato agreed as the girls gathered everyone. Hagakure was mixing bowls, Jiro was decorating, Yauyorozu made her unique, expensive tea, and Uraraka and Tsu would eat some cookies as they helped Hagakure and Jiro. Ojiro, Deku, Koda, and Iida watched a movie. Shoji and Tokoyami were in the yard helping each other strengthen their quirks. Sero, Kaminari, Kirishima, and Bakugo were playing pool. Aoyama and Mineta were on their laptops studying. I was on the couch with Todoroki reading. He placed down his book and looked at me. “Hey, do you mind if I talk to you for a second,” he said to me as he walks away.

We walk towards the entrance of the dorm and he sits on the edge. “(Y/N), I want to know who that guy was that took you away. I can’t help but think that you are either working with him or that you are in danger. If you are working with him, I have to stop the both of you. But if you are in danger, I want you to know that it doesn’t make you a weak hero to ask for help. I just want to know, please.” I had to open up to him. I hope he sees me as a friend. I want him to see me as a friend.

“Okay,” I began. “Shoto, with what I have to say, I don’t want Class 2-A to get involved. I don’t want anyone’s life in danger because of me. So that guy. His name is Linguist. He speaks every language and is originally from Germany. I met him when I was studying abroad to become a hero. He started off as a good person, but his intentions were bad, and he eventually turned into a villain. Not only is he knowledgeable of all languages, but he also knows all the styles of combat and he has a mind enhancing device which he used on me when you saw me the other day. There are rumors that he has been working with All for One, which is why I transferred here. I’m not looking to take down All for One. I’m here to take down the people around him so he can become weaker. I don’t know a lot about All for One, but all I know is that he is pure evil and a great leader for villains. I don’t want to be a weak hero. I can take down Linguist.”

“All for One was the villain to cause All Might to go into retirement. We all know about him and want to take him down too, but it can be dangerous, and he can’t be beaten alone. As for Linguist, I can help you. Let me take him down with you,” he said eagerly.

“You would help me take him down,” I asked.

“Of course. I want to help you. We’re friends aren’t we,” he smiled. I looked at him in shock. He said we are friends?  I smiled back and he stood up and held out his hand to help me up. I took it and he didn’t let go for a moment. He looked at me holding his hand and we both blushed as our hands parted. He took out a piece of paper and pen. “Here’s my number,” he said, “Send me your location when you find him, and we’ll take him down. Together.”

I took the piece of paper and he walked back inside. I look back on the sunset for hope. Maybe it’s good to have a team to support you. I walk back inside the dorm.

Shoji and Tokoyami overheard everything and wanted to help as well.

Everyone was in their dorm room ready to go to sleep. Todoroki was writing a letter to his mother when there was a knock at the door. It was Tokoyami. “Tokoyami, what’s up,” Todoroki said. 

“I overheard your conversation with (Y/N). Shoji and I want in,” he said.

“I promised (Y/N) that her and I would fight. She specifically doesn’t want 2-A to get involved.”

“But you are now keeping a secret from the rest of us,” Tokoyami barked, “We help each other up to succeed as heroes. Even though she is new, she is in trouble. We have to tell the others.”

“She doesn’t want to endanger everyone. We could get expelled for going on a mission collectively without Aizawa’s permission,” Todoroki raised his voice. 

“We all have our provisional hero licenses, Todoroki. Let’s use them,” Tokoyami yelled and paused, “We’re coming with you. That’s final. Send everyone the location when you get it.” He walked away, leaving Todoroki frozen in the doorway. He closed the door and went back into his room. He saw that he got a text from (Y/N). “Thank you for your support” the text says.

……………………………………………………………

A few days go by. (Y/N) and Todoroki’s friendship grew stronger. They learned to have the same interests, like soba noodles, and similar pasts. (Y/N)’s parents and siblings were murdered by villains, so she just kinda had to learn a lot on her own. 

Around midnight, my head started to hurt and it became more and more painful to the point where it woke me up. I had a hand over my mouth. It was Linguist. “Shhh, un mot de toi et tes amis meurent (one word from you and your friends die),” he laughed. I let him take me to his lair.

I am restrained and gagged to this long board with my hands above my head. “You know, you look more attractive with your hands above your head. I can do things to you that would pleasure me,” he said seductively. I watched him program the robots with some of All for One’s quirks. He tested the robots against each other and kept the ones that stood from the fight. Every once in a while, he would zap my head with the mind enhancing device to assure that I would be in constant pain to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore.

I attempted to send Todoroki my location, but whenever I would think to use my quirk, the mind enhancing device was one step ahead of me. I felt like my brain was going to explode. “Don’t you realize that every time you attempt to use your quirk, it zaps you? I thought you were really smart, but now you’re just coming off as stupid,” Linguist said.

“I won’t give up,” I yelled, “I’ll do my best to beat you!”

Linguist laughs and gets close to my face. “You’re currently restrained to this board and submerged in the mind enhancing device to essentially cancel your quirk whenever you use it and overwhelm your brain. Your brain will swell in that tiny skull of yours and work itself to your death. The brain is very complex, yet yours isn’t that difficult to figure out. But since you want to fight, I can let you swing.”  He releases me from the mind enhancing device and restraints. I fall to the ground catching my breath. I attempt to stand up, but I could feel my legs about to give out. “This is you at your best,” Linguist laughs, “This will be a very easy fight.” Secretly, I text Todoroki my location with my quirk before standing up to fight. I stand up, holding up my fists. He charges at me like a UFC fighter. I take a few punches to the mouth and gut. I see blood spewing from my mouth. “This is way too easy. Put more effort into it,” he said. He continues to fight and I try to fight back with everything I’ve got.

………………………………………………

Meanwhile, Deku, Iida, Uraraka, and Todoroki walked to class together. “How’s your hand, Deku,” Uraraka asked concerned. “It is a bit scarred, but it will get stronger,” he retaliated.

“Hey Todoroki, so are you crushing on (Y/N),” Iida said as Deku and Uraraka looked over. “No, Iida,” he said blushing, “We’re just friends.”

“We’re friends with her, too,” Uraraka said, “It just seems you two are attached to each other.”

“Attached, no,” he chuckled.

They all go to class and (Y/N)’s desk is empty as the bell rings. Todoroki checks his phone and there are no notifications from her. “Class, take your seats,” Aizawa welcomes the class. Tokoyami and Shoji look at (Y/N)’s vacant desk and over to Todoroki. Todoroki shakes his head “no” to them. Deku and Bakugo notice. Even though Todoroki kept his promise to (Y/N), he felt the need to tell the other students and Aizawa, but only if she sends the location.

The whole day of class goes by and still nothing from (Y/N). “Todoroki,” Deku comes by, “What happened to (Y/N)? Why wasn’t she in class today?”

“I don’t know, Midoriya,” he replied.

They all head back to the dorm and (Y/N)’s door was ajar and vacant. Todoroki noticed it before anyone else and closed it. He sends a text to her asking if she was okay. Bakugo was in the hallway when he found Todoroki at her door.

“Icy-hot, no one cares about new girl,” Bakugo said.

“Bakugo, I’ve got to talk to you,” he said. Todoroki invited Bakugo into his room. “Bakugo, I don’t ask for much, but I may need your help. (Y/N) is possibly in trouble with a villain named Linguist. He is known for knowing multiple languages and combat styles. She may be with him, which is why she wasn’t in class today. Since you are strong, would you like to team up with me to help her?”

“I have to do everything around here. I’ll kill him myself,” Bakugo frowned.

“Thank you, Bakugo. When I know, I’ll let you know,” Todoroki said. Bakugo smiled slightly before he left the room.

Around 2 am, Todoroki got a text from (Y/N). Half asleep, he looks at his phone and shoots out of his bed. He knocks on everyone’s doors in a panic. Bakugo is the first to respond. “Damn Icy-hot, what the—” Bakugo saw the look in Todoroki’s eyes and knew he had to suit up for battle.

…………………………………………………………

(Y/N) is on the ground. Linguist picks her up back on the board and grabs her face to look at him. “I’ve finally defeated you, (Y/N),” he laughs, “After all these years, you are forever mine with just one more charge to the mind enhancing device. Then after I kill you, I will kill students at UA and join All for One. Happy promotion day to me!” He hooks up the device and restraints.

“I will protect my classmates. They’re my friends,” I screamed with all my strength. “Goodbye, (Y/N). It was fun while it lasted,” he said. Linguist is about to flip the switch when Bakugo blasted through the lair and shot an explosion in Linguist’s face. Behind him was Todoroki, Shoji, Deku, Tokoyami, and Kirishima. Todoroki uses his ice quirk to freeze Linguist’s legs after Bakugo’s explosions. Linguist closes his eyes to break free from the ice. “ONE FOR ALL FULL COWLING,” Deku charged. Linguist changed the direction of his hit. “DARK SHADOW,” Tokoyami’s dark shadow fought the Linguist. Kirishima tagged with Dark Shadow and hit Linguist with multiple fists. Shoji tried to help me escape from the mind enhancing device and the restraints. He looks at the restraints with a puzzling look. “It’s a puzzle to unlock,” he said to Todoroki.

 “Solve it,” Todoroki yelled, “Bakugo, make my ice explode into shards.” Linguist’s mind was too powerful to contain in a room. The ceiling exploded and he rose. “Kirishima! Bakugo!” Todoroki made a ramp to Linguist. Bakugo and Kirishima use their quirks together to catch the Linguist off guard in the air. The Linguist is thown back to the ground. “Midoriya!” Deku charges at him with a Detroit Smash into the ground.

The Linguist is paralyzed. Sounds of rain and the police sirens fill the air. Shoji finally unlocks the restraints. Todoroki looks over. My eyes are fluttering. “We did it, (Y/N). We beat him,” he said holding me, out of breath.

My head is stained in blood and my mouth continues to bleed. Tears start to fill my eyes. “This is all my fault,” I said, “I put your lives in danger by coming to this school. I should have just been alone.”

“No, (Y/N). We are your friends. All of us. We are here to help you and support you. We will not let you die,” Deku’s eyes filled up with tears.

“You’re like the manliest lady I’ve ever met. I’d do anything to support you,” Kirishima added.

“I will kill and beat every villain,” Bakugo yelled.

“And I’m sure you would also be there for us when we are in trouble,” Tokoyami assured.

Shoji encased me in his arms and transported me to the ambulance. I watched Deku, Kirishima, Bakugo, Tokoyami, Shoji, and Todoroki disappear in the rain as my ambulance departed.

…………………………………………………………

I open my eyes in the hospital to see the same six men before me. All with a single flower that they added to make a bouquet.

“Good morning,” Deku smiled.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Kirishima added.

“I don’t normally give girls flowers, but shitty hair insisted,” Bakugo said.

“How are you feeling,” Shoji asked.

“I’m sore, but I’ll live,” I said sitting up, “If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know. I have your back.” They all give me a hug and leave the room. Todoroki stayed behind. He sat next to me on the bed and smiled.

“You know,” he began, “I did this for Iida a while back when he went after Stain who paralyzed his brother. This is what friends do for each other. I’m glad to be your friend.” He pulls out cold soba noodles. “I know you like them hot, but I felt like they would at least put a smile on your face.”

“My hero,” I said softly. I leaned in to kiss Shoto on the cheek.  

He blushed in shock and rubbed in the kiss. He held my hand until I dozed off to sleep.

#shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki imagine #bnha imagines #bnha #todoroki shoto #bakugo katsuki #midoriya izuku #kirishima eijiro #shoji mezo #tokoyami fumikage #iida tenya #deku #uraraka ocacho #bnha todoroki #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

[julemmaes]

Cry

Lorcan Salvaterre and Elide Lochan modern au

A/N: Alrighty alrighty I’M SORRY. I’m not posting anything lately cause I’ve been busy (very fucking much) and I just want to let you all know that I’ll write every single day of MOF even when October is finished (even if that’s not the point of those challenged but still) 

I was on tiktok the other day and I saw this video of a couple in a long distance relationship where she surprised him and he CRIED. A LOT. It’s become one of my favourite things in the world to be honest. He really seemed exhausted coming in his room and he literally SNIFFED the air, cause he could SMELL her and I D I E D.

Anyway, this is basically the plot. Enjoy!

Word count: 1,948

Lorcan would rather shoot himself in the head than listen to Rowan talk about contemporary history for another hour.

He promised him that he would help him prepare one of the billions of exams he seemed to have every month because his girlfriend, Aelin, had abandoned him at the last minute, leaving him alone. Knowing the type, Lorcan would have bet the house that she had told him a lie not to have another long and boring talk about the Cold War.

As much as he loved his best friend, just the idea of what Rowan was studying made his eyelids close faster than any sleeping pill he had ever taken. And Lorcan had taken a lot of medication to help him sleep in his life.

Things had not gone very well lately. With Elide on the other side of the world and their schedules that fit perfectly so that they never got to see each other on skype, he hadn't seen his girlfriend for almost five days. Lorcan had never been an excessively soft guy, who felt the need to talk twenty-four hours a day just to tell others that his relationship was perfect, but the distance was playing tricks on him and the fact that he couldn't sleep well only added stress and nervousness.

There was also the small detail that his father - or rather, his sperm donor - had died a few weeks before and his mother, who had always been the only parental figure in his life, really wanted to give him the letter that the man had written to him only a few days before his death.

Lorcan had tried to read it, several times, even on a call with Elide, but every time he read the first lines, where the man expressed his sincerest apologies for never having been part of his life, attributing part of those faults to his mother too, he could never bring himself to finish it.

"...can you at least pretend to be listening?" Rowan asked exasperatedly, running his hand over his face.

Lorcan closed his eyes sighing, opening them a few moments later. Rowan was staring at him slightly pissed off. He could perfectly understand that talking to someone who didn't even seem to be in the same room as you could be irritating.

"Sorry Ro, I know I told you I'd stay until seven, but I can't do it." he got up, without looking Rowan in the face, but he saw him stiffening, "If I hear you say Gorbachev one more time, I might throw up."

"Are you okay?" he asked him in a lower tone of voice. Two girls sitting at the table next to them turned around, immediately bringing their attention back to their books when Lorcan gave them a hard look.

He tightened his jaw, putting his stuff in his backpack, "Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"I wouldn't have started to worry if you'd just told me you were fine," Rowan pointed out, leaning against the table with his elbows and pushing towards him. Lorcan put on his jacket, puffing.

"Well, I'm actually fine," he said, finally looking him in the eye. He felt his breath hitch when he saw that Rowan seemed genuinely concerned about what was surely disturbing his friend and had to turn around so he wouldn't let him see how bad he really was.

"I know you don't do these..." he paused, frowning, "things. But if you need to talk to someone -"

Lorcan interrupted him by putting one hand forward, "Rowan, listen," he laughed dryly, "You're right, I don't do these things and you're starting to sound like Fenrys," his friend made a disgusted grimace, "Exactly, so cut the bullshit and don't ever try to be all mama hen on me again, okay?"

Rowan nodded bitterly, "It's just that Aelin told me that you and Elide," a hint of pain shot through his chest at the girl's name, "haven't talked for a few days and I just wanted to know if things were going well?" he asked hesitantly.

Lorcan pinched the bridge of his nose, "What exactly don't you understand about the sentence 'I'm fine'?"

"I'm just checking on a friend who won't stop bullshitting me," Rowan pointed out abruptly.

"I don't need you to check up on me."

Rowan's face softened so much that Lorcan knew that anything he would say in a few seconds would make him lose every ounce of patience.

"Is this about your father's letter?" he looked him in the face, reducing his lips to a thin line, then Lorcan turned around, without even saying goodbye, and walked out of the library.

It was not because of the letter.

It was the fact that his mother had felt the need to give it to him. It was the fact that the woman who knew him better than anyone else in the world, the woman who had seen him in the most vulnerable moments of his life and who had raised him alone, breaking her back day and night to make sure he had a future, had accepted the words written on that letter to be the truth.

Your mother prevented me from seeing you. Don't be angry at me, but at her. It wasn't me who decided to abandon you. Agnes told me that I could not see you until you were sixteen years old. It is not my fault that you did not have enough during your childhood.

A lot of bullshit if you asked Lorcan.

His father had left the second he found out that his mother had gotten pregnant and took every penny he could find in their house to buy another dose or bottle of alcohol.

Lorcan knew that his mother had read it because when she gave it to him, the envelope had been torn. And he knew that she hadn't done it with the intention of violating his privacy, but rather to protect him. He certainly wouldn't blame the mother if she still cared about her baby when it came to the man who got her pregnant and then ran away.

He did not realize that he had stopped in the middle of the university garden, his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on the ground until a drop hit his forehead. He looked up and the sky split in two.

All the students who were lying on the lawn stood up screaming, putting away their notes and books as quickly as possible. Some laughed as they ran for shelter from that sudden thunderstorm, but Lorcan resumed walking normally, reaching his dorm canopy in a few minutes.

Walking up the stairs as slowly as he had never done before, he found himself thinking about his mother yet again.

Perhaps he should have called her.

They had spent hours on the phone after she had given him the letter. Lorcan yelling at her because the man's words had certainly struck Agnes in the heart - so much so that she handed the letter to her son, without warning him that it was all crap - and she apologized to him for something she had thought right almost twenty years earlier.

Lorcan had reassured her that he had never missed a father figure. He had never had the need to go fishing with his "old man" or "play catch".

He ran his hand over his face for the millionth time, sighing and trying to keep his emotions at bay until he reached his room where he would decide what to do. Whether to take a sleeping pill and try to rest or go to the gym and punch something. Or someone, if he found one of the guys willing to get it.

He arrived in front of the door and saw that it was slightly open, the corridor light on. He swelled his chest holding his breath and praying to every god on the face of the earth that Connal or Vaughan were not home, he pushed the door, entering the small apartment.

He heard no noises of any kind and frowned. If one of his roommates had been in the house there would have been at least the sound of pots being thrown into the kitchen or the springs of their beds moving under the weight of both.

Relieved that he had not entered the house in one of their usual hot moments, he made to move and then sensed it.

He smelled the air, stopping in his footsteps.

Lemon and cinnamon.

He would have recognized that scent everywhere.

He turned around, closing the door and expecting to see her hidden back there.

When he couldn't find her, he sprang towards his room, opening that door and throwing his head back laughing when he saw Elide sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Don' t believe it." Lorcan whispered without looking at her.

He turned back into the living room, taking two steps towards the couch before turning around again and putting his hands in his hair.

Elide was smiling at him with her hands clutched between her legs. She got up, going towards him, slowly, "Believe it.”

"You're here," Lorcan told her, with a shocked expression on his face. He couldn't move, the emotion too great to be contained and in a second everything he had taken so long to shove down and not to process reappeared on the surface, hitting him with such force as to take his breath away. Elide smiled at him more widely with bright eyes and threw herself at him.

Lorcan wrapped her in his arms and held her so tightly that she laughed and then stuck his head in the space between her shoulder and neck and breathed deeply.

Without his consent, a sob slipped from his lips.

He felt Elide stiffen, "Lor..."

He knew that if he spoke, he would not be able to recognize his voice as broken it would be.

"You're crying." Elide tried to tear herself away to look him in the face, but Lorcan prevented her, holding her tighter and letting go of more sobs. He was leaning completely against her and when she moved again, to get the backpack off his shoulders, he let her do it, taking her back in his arms immediately afterwards.

One of her hands rubbed his back, "It's alright." she whispered to him, kissing his cheek. "Everything is all right."

"Why are you crying?" her voice was so small, so weak compared to what she normally had. He let go of a trembling breath, taking a step back, and rubbing the palms of his hands over his eyes to wipe away the tears.

Elide was holding her hands on his arms and stroking him to calm him down. He bent forward, extending one hand towards her neck and passed a thumb over her jaw. She half-closed her eyes, looking at his face. Lorcan looked back, with watery eyes.

He hugged her again with a surge, kissing her forehead and sighing with relief, "I missed you so fucking much."

Elide replied in a muffled voice, "So did I."

They lingered a few more minutes, Elide caressing every part of his body she could reach with her short arms, without worrying that he was completely soaked, and Lorcan relaxing under that familiar touch so strong that he could drive out every demon that had dug his way under his skin during those months without her. And even if things hadn't worked out just because Elide had come back for what would surely have been two days, at least he could talk to someone who knew would understand.

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#elorcan #elorcan fic #angst #fluff #lorcan #lorcan salvaterre #elide #elide lochan #college au #modern au #elorcan college au #fic #fan fic #tog #throne of glass #throne of glass fan fic #julemmaes writing #my writing

[skiimmiilk]

A/N: Another long ass ride timestamp. I’ve been a little too inspired by the NCT 127 seasons greetings and the new YouTube video they posted X_X. Will this be my first full series? Who knows :”D

[7:41PM]

“Absolutely not.” Doyoung doesn’t even look up at you from his computer which he is noisily typing away at. 

“Why the hell not Doyoung?” You raise your arms incredulously, “I’m not going to sit around and watch you put your life in danger all the time. Especially in the name of our trash excuse of a father.”

“But you? Joining the Underground Services?” He raised an eyebrow at you, “I’m not letting you get involved in the black market.” 

“Please, you already know I’m better than half of the other useless employees in the circuit.” You roll your eyes, “I can’t just sit here and get a regular job knowing all of this.” 

He lets out a frustrated sigh, closing his eyes in hopes that you would stop talking, “I shouldn’t have let dad tell you about it..” He mumbles under his breath. Doyoung closes the laptop before shoving it into its holder, “This is the last time we are discussing this.” 

You raise your eyebrows incredulously, letting out a scoff of disbelief. You follow him out of the office and down the hallway, “You’re kidding.” 

“Don’t you get it y/n? You get a chance of a normal and safe life.” He looks at you, almost enviously, “Mom wouldn’t have wanted either of us in this business but our ‘trash excuse of a father’ left us with his position that needed to be filled.” 

“Then why not both of us shoulder that burden? You don’t like it either.” You protest, hopping into the elevator.

“...I’m fine with it.” Doyoung says in a clipped voice. 

“More like you tolerate it.” You mumble.

He sighs, “Fine, I tolerate it, but I don’t think you can. You already know what the black market is known for. Do you really want to put yourself at risk?” 

“If it means that you don’t shoulder all the unresolved business our dad left us with, then yes.” The elevator doors opened once again and you two step out. 

“Look, I appreciate it y/n. But as your brother, I literally can’t let you.” 

“Smells like bullshit.” You roll your eyes.

“Then don’t stick your nose in places you don’t have business being in.” He chuckles, flicking your forehead, “Take out tonight? Or do you want me to cook?”

“Our fridge was empty last time I checked it so let’s do take out today.” 

“Alright, I’ll order it. Can you pick it up and get some groceries on your way home?” He asks, flipping open his phone to answer some texts. 

“Yea I guess so.” You sigh, “You’re not gonna come with?” 

“I’m being called into HQ. We have a big transaction coming up so..you know.” 

You roll your eyes, shaking your head in disappointment. Your brother greeted the clueless workers on the floor that you walked out on. The office that your brother worked at was a set-up by the mafia group he worked with. NCT was just a highly successful electronics company in the face of the general public, but behind closed doors, they were one of the big names in the Underground Market, otherwise referred to as the UM. Your father was one of the founders of this company and a member of the Underground Services, Unit 127, so upon his death, it was natural for Doyoung, and eventually once you convinced Doyoung, you would shoulder his position. Doyoung walked you to the exit before waving goodbye to you.

“Do you have your mace y/n?” He asked and in response you dangled the neon green cylindrical device in front of him. 

“All good Doie~” You teased, to which he shoved you playfully in response.

“I’m still at work y/n..” He groaned, feeling the stares of the other floor members on his back. 

“Yea, yea.” You smirk, shooing off his cries of displease, “I’ll see you at home!” You turned around, shoving your hands into your pockets with a little jump in your step. 

“Text me when you get home!” 

“Yes MOM!” You yell back, rolling your eyes at his antics, “I swear, it’s like I’m still 2 years old in his eyes.”

You squish your arms closer to your body, feeling the bite of the winter night against your skin despite wearing a jacket. It was decently lit with a couple people walking about along the streets, probably returning home from work or getting take out like you were. As you walked down the lit path, your hairs on the back of your neck stood for a second and you turned around only to find the street empty as you left it. 

Weird..I thought I heard someone. 

You gripped the mace in your pocket a little tighter as you sped up your pace. You reached the outside of a plaza you and your brother usually ordered from when you widen your eyes in realization.

“The idiot never told me what or where he was ordering from.” You groan and shake your head as you whip out your phone to call Doyoung.

~Back at the Office~

“Alright boys, so we have a couple candidates for possible new members to join the unit.” Taeyong, leaned across the long conference table at his members intently, “Doyoung, pull up the files on the screen.” 

“Taeyong, I don’t really get the benefit of adding someone else to the team.” Yuta leans back in his chair, clearly not pleased with the idea of a new member, “I thought we were handling things just fine here.” 

“Just listen to me. We need to have fresh faces every so often in our unit to keep our enemies guessing. I have two people I’m keeping an eye on right now.” Taeyong pushed himself off the table, “Show the first candidate Doyoung.” 

Doyoung stood in the corner at the podium with a laptop shining in front of him. With a couple clicks, the first profile blows up on the big screen. 

“Lee Haechan. 20 years old. Agile, quick on his feet and thinks even faster. Originally associated with local low tier gangs and was known to be the best of the best when it comes to strategic fighting.” Doyoung clicks through the presentation, showing Haechan’s profile and some videos of him fighting. 

“What’s stopping him from going back to those gangs?” Jaehyun asks, his chin resting on his hand in thought, “How do we know where his loyalties lie?”

“All his previous gangs are dead. No associations or ties as far as my team knows.” Doyoung answers, “He doesn’t have any other ties currently, which would rule out the idea of him betraying us for an alternative group that he’s apart of.”  

“It’s like he has a curse of death following him..” Mark whispers over to Jungwoo, still not entirely convinced either. The group murmurs amongst themselves as they let the idea of Lee Haechan in their unit. 

I thought there was only one candidate.. Doyoung thinks to himself as he stares at Haechan’s profile and then back at Taeyong. What are you planning..?

“Now,” Taeyong clasps his hands together as he walks across the floor, “I know your waiting anxiously in your seats to see who the second candidate is..” His eyes flicker to Doyoung briefly before, setting down a manila folder from his bag on the table, “Kim y/n.” 

“What?” Doyoung raises his voice, almost dropping his laptop, “Taeyong..I never approved of this.” 

“You didn’t need to. She came to me herself with the proposition.” Taeyong shrugged, flipping through your files, “She’s pretty skilled herself. Her only flaw is lack of experience in this field but she’s a quick learner and smart.” 

“I’d like to keep it that way.” Doyoung walks up to Taeyong, almost getting too in his face, “Take her off the list.” He growls. 

“I agree with Doyoung here.” Taeil speaks up, sitting back in his seat after looking at the file, “She doesn’t know what she’s getting into. I’m pretty sure she only knows surface level information about what we do and the risks we take. Can she handle the potential consequences that we face whenever we step on the field?”

“Thank you!” Doyoung gestures to Taeil in exasperation, “She’s not meant for this.”

“I like her ambition and her anger.” Taeyong knocks the table before leaning back from the table, looking Doyoung in the eyes, “Gentlemen, look at the screen.” 

Everyone’s attention is diverted to the screen as it switches to grainy CCTV camera footage of a dark street near a small plaza. To Doyoung’s horror, you walk onto the screen, stopping at the corner before the plaza. 

“Taeyong, you are overstepping the line.” Doyoung hisses, grabbing the man by the collar, “What are you doing?!” 

Taeyong’s eyes lazily make its way to meet Doyoung’s furious ones, “Relax, I’m simply testing something. Just watch the film.” 

~Back on the streets~ 

You speed dial Doyoung’s number on your phone and you place the machine to your ear, waiting for him to pick up. You look at the call screen, curious as to why he hadn’t picked up already. Usually his hyperactive ass would pick up in half a ring, but maybe he was in a meeting? Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a dark presence behind you and your first instinct was to elbow whoever or whatever was behind you. To your surprise, you felt someone’s ribs and the sound of someone’s breath escaping their lungs registered and you immediately ducked and swung your feet at his heels. Your perpetrator, however, dodged and jumped over your legs, landing a foot away from you.

“Do you..” The stranger groans in pain, “always leave people breathless when you first meet them?” His face finally shone in the light when he lifted his face into the streetlight. 

You whipped out your defensive items and clicked a button that turned a small metal tube into a long staff, “You need to fuck off right now before I turn you into shades of blue and purple.” 

“Ooo~ They gave me such a feisty target. I like it.” He grins, cracking his knuckles, “I like a challenge, so let’s last more than 5 minutes please.” 

“Who..” You charged at him, swinging your staff at his direction, “are you?! And who the hell do you work for?” He neatly dodged your first swing, narrowly shifting out of range of your second one. 

He tsks, jumping in place a little before diving for your mid and knocking you down to the icy concrete, “Classified information, sweetheart. I just gotta bring you in.” 

You curl your feet beneath his abdomen and shove him over your head as you tumble over into a crouching position. You blow a stray strand of hair out of your face, pursing your lips in annoyance. He stops his fall and lands almost gracefully on the street. You go after him again, swinging all your strength at him and like a dance, he mirrored your moves easily dodging your moves. You purse your lips, wanting to get him off your ass quickly. A nice blow to the head should do it, but he was predicting you too well. 

“Alright, it was fun playing with you but I have a deadline to uphold.” His eyes change and it’s his turn to attack. He flicks out a switch blade, the light reflects into your eyes off the shiny silver coating as you barely dodge his swipe. You wince, feeling the cold air meet the fresh cut on your temple. Your senses heightened and a wash of fear came over you as you dodged and weaved his blows. The fear of getting stabbed and getting hurt scared you because you didn’t want to leave your brother alone. If you were going to get out of here, you’d have to think of something and quickly. As you dodged his blows a blinking red light caught your attention from the corner of your eye and you glanced up at it. 

The cameras are never on usually. The fleeting thought came to you and you almost shook it off when realization knocked into your thoughts.

“Come on, sweetie. I don’t have all day, let’s just get on with it~” The stranger giggled as he slashed forward to you. You bumped into a trashcan, knocking it over as you dodged his blow. He quickly turned around and dashed towards you, a determined look on his face. You made no move to dodge until the very last second. His breath hitched in his throat as he crashed into the knocked over trash can, tumbling on the ground. You slammed your pole onto his wrist, making him yelp in pain and let go of his knife which you kicked away in one full swing. The stranger growled, angry now that you pulled such a trick on him, but as soon as he looked up to face you again, he was met with an obnoxious green tube and a horrible burning sensation to his eyes. He screamed in pain as he doubled over, rubbing his eyes. 

You relax a little letting out a shaky breath of relief and shoving the mace back into your pocket, “Rubbing makes it worse, idiot.” You hop on top of him, securing his hands with your belt and using your weight to keep him down on the ground. 

“Taeyong! If this is some kind of sick joke, I don’t really get the punchline.” You yelled out in the seemingly empty streets. You heard a vibration coming from your captive’s pocket as he squirmed around underneath you, still groaning from the burning pepper spray that he received to the face. You pulled out the sleek black device and answered the number.

“y/n~ You make for good entertainment.” You could hear Taeyong’s amusement through the line, “We ordered some food already and had it delivered, so you and Haechan can come back to the office. We need to discuss some matters.” 

“What-” 

“What does it look like?” He glared up at you, eyes bloodshot and wild.

“See you in five.” He hangs up and you scoff shaking your head at the dark screen. You get off of who you could only assume to be Haechan.

“Are your eyes okay yet?” You ask blankly.

“You heard Taeyong, gotta go back to the office now. You dragged him up and started walking, “The red brings out your eyes. It’s a nice look, sweetheart.” You mock his tone of voice with the previous nickname he gave you. 

“The hell.. Take your damned belt off of me.” He ran to catch up to you, trying to rip the fabric. 

“No-pe” You pop the P at the end of your response, “Not gonna happen. I don’t really trust you to not jump me.” 

A dark car pulls up next to the two of you and flashes its headlights at you. You stop watching the passenger door window roll down to reveal Johnny in the drivers seat and a very pissed Doyoung in the passenger seat. 

“Both of your asses. In the back. Now.” 

“Sheesh alright.” You open the back door and climb in, Haechan following suit.

Johnny glances back at the two of you, both ruffled and battered with an amused smile, “Looking good back there two.”

You both roll your eyes and Doyoung interrupts, “I don’t want to hear it.” 

You turn to Haechan and nudge him, “My name’s y/n by the way. I don’t think I got the chance to introduce myself.”

Haechan raises an eyebrow, dryly laughing at your horribly timed self-introduction, “Haechan. I would say it’s nice to meet you, but I can barely see you right now.” 

“Good.” 

#nct #nct127 #nctu #nct haechan #nct haechan x reader #nct timestamps #nct imagines #nct mafia au #nct haechan au #mafia au #kpop imagine #kpop timestamp

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

It’s so dark - pt 2 (Spike x Reader)

Warning: Mentions of death, swearing, angst 

word count: 1,576

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don't know how long you had been lying on the cold sodden cemetery ground staring up at the balls of gas in the sky we call stars. They were so beautiful. You'd never really taken the time to appreciate the little things in life. You were dying. 

You could feel you body getting colder, could almost feel the blood draining from your body and seeping into the earth beneath you. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and you looked up blinking, staring into the eyes of your crying vampire. You shakily lifted your crimson palm to cup his stoney cheek. 

“Shhhh Spike, It’s okay, it’s okay.” You could hear Giles and everyone talking behind you, Willow and Tara were sat on either side of you chanting something gibberish and Buffy had just finished off the vampire that did this to you. God, you'd think with all your training or something you would have been able to stop this but it all happened too quick, you just had to save spike. You loved him too much to see him turn to ash. 

Spike brought you into his arms and cried into your hair, his firm hands gripping onto your bleeding body for dear life, you were crying because this was it, as much as you had hated your father in the beginning for being away with the slayer you wanted to get to know him and reconnect, you thought you had all the time in the world. Then there was Spike, your leather clad knight in shinning armour, the love of your life and you his. The greatest love in his lifetime. You cried into him as you felt your soul slipping away, your eyes blurry, looking up at the night sky, one last sigh. 

“I love you William.”

- unknown p.o.v.-

“Hybrid, you shouldn't be here, it is not your time yet, you’ve not realised your true destiny, born of Slayer lineage and Warlock, you harness great powers that with this love sacrifice will be fully realised when you rise from the earth re-born!”

You woke with a start. God what a weird dream…. until you realised, it wasn't a dream at all as you stared up at the lid of the wooden box that encased your very much alive body. You gasped and your hands flew to where the metal rod had once protruded from your skin. Nothing, no mark, no hole, like nothing ever happened. You started to panic.. You were in a coffin and everyone thought you were dead. What did that voice mean destiny? Slayer and Warlock lineage? You looked down, your body clad in your favourite black dress and on your chest.. spikes pendant he always wore around his neck. Your eyes welled up and you screamed as it started getting harder and harder to breath. You needed to get out, you punched the top of the lid with all the strength you could muster from your lying position and much to your surprise you heard a loud crack. You coughed and blinked as earth fell on your face, you hated to think what creepy crawlies were in the box with you. 

It had felt like a life time but you had managed to completely break through the layer of wood holding you hostage. The earth was hard and cold, your fingers racked the earth urgently, holding your breath as much as you could. It was like trying to swim to the surface of a pool but you never knew when you'd break through the top. You started panicking as the breath slipped away from you bit by bit. You just wished the ground would open up and let you out. You dug harder and harder and all of a sudden you felt a breeze, the earth had opened up…. as if by magic. Your fingers tingled, you watched what looked like purple smoke recede into your mud covered finger tips. Right now, you didn't question it, all you knew is you didn't like being buried alive. Your body squeezed from the hole in the ground and on tired achey arms you pulled yourself up and rolled onto your back, this time very much alive, and once again looking at the stars. 

You had tried to brush as much mud and leaves off as possible, but it wasn't worth trying. You stood slowly, scared your legs might give, turning, you glimpsed the white pearly headstone with your name engraved. Normally it would take a while to get a headstone when someone died, however, given Sunnydale’s reputation for people dropping dead every to minutes, there were a few places you could get one from around here. You gulped and held back tears, oh god, everyone must be out of their minds. How has this all happened. 

You didn't know where to go first, your heart knew where it wanted to go… to your platinum blonde boyfriends crypt, but you also didn't want to freak him out, and part of you wanted to find out what was actually happening to you incase this was all some sort of twisted trick and living wasn't the permeant situation… You found your legs carrying you towards your fathers house before your brain realised what was happening. You must have thought subconsciously that, surely, your father should know all about this? But what if seeing you alive puts him into shock… I guess it would be a risk you'd have to take unless…. there was always Willow and Tara… 

Before long you had changed direction and you were headed to the apartment that Willow and Tara shared. It was the middle of the night, the town roads lit up by nothing but the dull amber glow of street lights, the wind rustling through the bitter air and you, alone, barefoot, hopefully walking towards some answers and a much needed shower. 

Stopping, you looked up at the apartment building, part of you felt guilty that you were probably about to wake them but then you shook yourself remembering you just rose from the dead. Scoffing, you reached for the door handle that lead you into the block of apartments, locked. Of course it’s locked. You tried it again but no use… god, if the thing about having witchy powers was true then they sure would have been helpful now.. You felt stupid but you focused, placing your hand on the door knob, thinking and challenging some sort of energy into the door handle. You didn't have a fucking clue what you were doing but you had been around Willow and Tara to know a small thing or two. Before you knew it, the same purple smokey tendrils present at your gravesite, pulsed from your palm and the door flew open with a bang. Whoops… 

You'd only been to Willow and Tara’s apartment once, it was fairly new and they hadn't been there very long. You still remembered the way, following the grey marble tiles down the second story corridor to door number 3. You hesitated, you were nervous, scared… all of the above, but with a deep breath you took the plunge and rapped your fist on the door. At first you didn't know if anyone was in, no lights, no sounds of movement, but then a glimmer of hope as you heard a groan and the side light next to the sofa switched on. Here goes.. 

To say they were shocked was an understatement.. Tara was the one who had answered the door, she had screamed and knocked the lamp of the side table while staring at you with wide frightened eyes. Obviously all the commotion alerted willow who was in the other room, and she came out magic at the ready, poised to fight anything evil at the door. She too was shocked, disbelief fluttering across her facial features, then a grin and she was hugging you tightly and ushering you into the dimly lit apartment. 

After they had helped you wash up, brushed the twigs and dirt from your hair and sat you down with some coffee, you filled them in on everything that had happened. Explaining the weird voice, the prophecy, having to claw your way out of your coffin after you woke up again. Willow was healing your hands with some charms while Tara scoured through book after book, trying to find anything that might explain what had actually happened. But nothing. It had been hours and there was nothing. Yous sighed falling back into the sofa only one person on your mind. You sadly looked at Willow. 

“How is Spike?” She turned to you slowly.

“He’s not in a good way Y/N, Maybe you should go and see him, the last time I saw him he left your grave plot and went back to his crypt demanding to be left alone.” You couldn't help but let a couple of tears fall. 

“Theres nothing more I want than to go and see Spike, b-but what if this isn't permanent, what if this is some cruel joke and I see him and then I just die again..” You were really crying now, the full weight of what had happened setting in. Without saying anything Tara and Willow enclosed their arms around you and held you… for how long you didn't know.. all you knew was the sun rose and you were living to see another day.

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Okay so this is wayyyyy overdue.. but it’s here at least! Let me know what you think in the comments below and please tell me if you want to be added to a tagging list for future parts!  

#spikebtvs #spikexreader #spike #james marsters #david boreanaz #angel btvs #angel #btvs #btvs fanfiction #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy summers #dawn summers #willow rosenberg #willow and tara #xander #anya #demons #vampires #vampire #giles #watcher #fanfic #writing #xreader #fluff #angst #Smut

[tev-the-random]

What it Ursa took her children with her? - Pt.2

As we were saying:

Little over year has passed since the family arrived in Hira’a, and fateful news gets to them: Ozai remarried. His new wife is someone who is honoured to marry the Firelord and doesn’t mind the fact that his head is so deep up his own arse- anyway, and they are expecting a child, who is to be the Firelord’s legitimate heir.

Azula’s hopes and dreams are shattered. At age ten, she is quite literally being replaced in her beloved father’s life. It’s like she’s never even existed, and she can’t help but wonder what she did wrong.

Zuko is also upset, of course. All those years when Ozai told him he was unfit and worthless come flooding back. But somehow, he already expected things to turn out like this. Unlike Azula, he wasn’t so deeply feeding on hopes that things would go back to normal. He sees it more as a situation that was out of everyone’s control.

He convinces Azula it’s not her fault, and these kids will still be trying to understand and defend their father later down the road. There must be a reason for all of this, right? They start thinking of a reasonable scenario…

Ursa just feels sorry for the poor woman who has to deal with Ozai now.

So we get a timeskip: about three years came and went. Zuko and Azula – treated as kids and not as weapons – lead a peaceful and happy life whenever they’re not thinking of their father and everything they could be doing out there.

They have become known local troublemakers in their spare time. Kids know better than to challenge them, people know not to leave flammable goods out in the open – a strict policy regarding fireworks has been established after a chaotic incident – and failure to keep an eye on them this one time led to… well, let’s just say that the town is still unsure of whether or not they’re is being haunted by evil spirits.

They aren’t allowed anywhere near Forgetful Valley, but bold of you to assume they never tried. In-jokes arise.

‘No, I’m serious: that tree’s face looked exactly like yours, Zuzu. You really should befriend it,’ Azula mocks, remembering a particularly ugly tree they encountered in their adventure.

‘Sorry, I wasn’t looking at it. I was busy looking for whoever it was that asked you,’ Zuko retorts. ‘Since Forgetful Valley has all the kinds of crazy stuff.’

‘Maybe we should go back and look for your impulse control, then.’

‘None of you are going back in there,’ Ursa reprehends. ‘It was very irresponsible of you. Forgetful Valley is a dangerous place, you could have gotten hurt!’

‘Your mother is right, you know?’ Noren comments. ‘I’ve been to that jungle before, and it’s definitely not a playground. But I swear…’ He makes a dramatic pause. ‘I once saw Ursa’s sense of humour in there.’

The kids burst out laughing while Ursa sighs. ‘Since you can find such amazing things in the valley, dear, why don’t you go back there and find yourself actual funny jokes? I’m sure my sense of humour will be around the same corner.’

*More laughter*

(IDK, I write crappy comedy, ok?)

They still have a bit of a hard time making friends. I wouldn’t say they are shy, but they definitely have a talent to say the wrong things at the wrong times, and it’s hard to make deep connections. Sure, they would play with other kids from time to time, but in the end, Zuko and Azula are each other’s best friend.

They’ve cleared an area by the beach that any Hira’a resident knows to stay away from when they’re training.

Azula discovered a great passion for theatre. Not only are her acting skills fantastic, she also seems to be naturally aware of what makes a good scene. People say she’s Noren’s Little Assistant.

She hates being called Noren’s Little Assistant. She would much rather be called Ursa’s Little Star, because goddamn is she a good actress and she needs everyone to know that.

Zuko is more of a plant-lover guy. Unfortunately, he hasn’t inherited his grandmother’s green thumb, and despite Ursa’s best efforts to teach him, it seems like everything he touches dies.

He has grown to show a way with animals, however. Any variety of frogs and toads love him; lizards of all kinds are attracted to him like he’s a magnet; furry animals big and small adore him and any type of bird-like creature seems to think he is the best human being in existence. But his favourite animals are still the turtleducks.

Back in the palace, Iroh eventually learns of Ozai’s bullshit and how he got the throne in the first place. And you know what? The time has come for Iroh to draw a line in the sand. He confronts his little brother, who confronts him back by telling him that, should he try to tell anyone in the Fire Nation the truth – that Ozai was a top-grade traitor who actually had no right to the throne –, no one would believe him. Since his brother won’t be sensible, Iroh decides that’s it: he’s fucking out.

Now a fugitive from the Fire Nation, he somehow winds up owning a lovely traveling tea shop called the Jasmin Dragon. Most people don’t even suspect he is the fearful Dragon of the West, because he’s just so nice?

You can bet he serves blends of tea from all across the nations.

The tea shop is also a good cover up for his exchanges with the Order of the White Lotus. He gives and receives information, and does his best to help villages to either defend themselves or evacuate during Fire Nation attacks.

One day a member of the White Lotus travels to Hira’a for one reason or another and finds Zuko and Azula. This person then sends a letter to Iroh.

Iroh comes to Hira’a to visit the family. He’s glad to see they’re ok, even if he can’t stay for too long. But long enough for some Quality Time – these kids have grown so much!

Iroh doesn’t know of Ursa’s part in Azulon’s assassination, and only assumes she knew of Ozai’s plan. But now, it’s time that her children learned a couple of things, and he is willing to teach them, so that when the time arrives for them to meet their destiny, they should be able to choose wisely and face whatever comes their way. So he asks the children to accompany him in his travels.

Ursa doesn’t want to let them go. They’re children, they should be here living a peaceful life, not meeting some grand, dangerous destiny! What if something horrible happened to them?

Iroh understands the pain of losing a child. He doesn’t want to make Ursa spend her time worrying about losing two, so he respects her decision and soon leaves the town.

But the siblings are not about to just sit here when they know they’re destined for something greater. What incredible knowledge did their uncle hold? Did their father have something to do with this? They always knew there was more to their fate than just living in Hira’a for the rest of their lives, and this is their chance; it’s now or never.

Zuko and Azula are about to sneak out and follow Iroh when Noren spots them. But instead of trying to stop them – he is well aware that he can’t – he gives them two masks and some advice about never forgetting who they were.

Why yes, I am saying that they eventually take the masks and become partners in crime, Zuko as the Blue Spirit and Azula as the Red Spirit, because parallels.

They catch up with their uncle and adventures and shenanigans issue as Zuko, Azula and Iroh cross the Earth Kingdom.

Now imagine this trio: two of the most awkward firebending teenagers travelling with their old tea-loving uncle, who spits proverbs like he’s made of them. The possibilities for both hilarious and heart-warming moments are endless.

Iroh thinks himself a matchmaker. Whenever he thinks he sees some romance going on, he encourages his nephew or niece to make a move. His flaming cupid arrows do more damage than good, yet he only has good intentions at heart. Teens all around the kingdom encourage you to stop, sir.

Their new life is even more humbling than in Hira’a, since they are constantly travelling. But they manage, and they know their uncle is nothing but wise… even if Azula is still quite arrogant and manipulative, and Zuko is impatient and hot-headed, which can lead to a lot of conflict.

Iroh teaches them both how to create and redirect lightning. Zuko is better at redirecting than Azula. Creating it, on the other hand, is a bit more complicated, and both of them get their fair share of explosions while learning. Neither of them really gets a hang of it – although Azula is better at it than Zuko, that’s not saying much – for they still have a lot of identity-related turmoil inside them that won’t let them grasp the energy.

Guess who else teaches them? Other members of the White Lotus. Both Zuko and Azula get some swordsmanship Skills™ from Piandao, some different (and somewhat unwillingly taught) firebending technics from Jeong-Jeong and a lot of things from Bumi, including but not limited to: creative thinking, the art of patience, strategic planning, dealing with pirates and a surprising amount of rocks-related knowledge.

Bumi adopted Zuko and Azula and gave himself the role of Second Uncle. You cannot convince me otherwise.

So one day, little over a year after the siblings joined Iroh, they wind up in a city where this big circus is performing. Uncle Iroh decides to take his niece and nephew to see it. And oh, aren’t they surprised by who they see performing?

Even though Ty Lee was essentially the only one between her sisters to befriend Azula – and consequentially, the only one to periodically spend time in the palace with her –, Zuko and Iroh still have a hard time distinguishing her from the six other girls who look exactly like her, uncertainly calling her all different names before Azula snaps ‘you idiots, that’s Ty Lee!’.

The acrobat is so glad to see her friend again, because damn: it’s been nearly four years since they last saw or even heard from each other! And Zuko, I thought you were dead? This is such a neat reunion, there’s so much for them to talk about! And sure, the circus has to leave soon and so do the siblings, but Ty Lee reassures them that, if they ever needed her, she wasn’t hard to find. This isn’t the last we’ll see of Ty Lee.

Azula doesn’t let it show, but she resents Ty Lee a little bit for choosing to abandon her noble life. She really wishes she could have had a choice.

Uncle Iroh tells the siblings stories about the war that would have some day mesmerized them. But now, his opinions about those events and what he did as a prince general have changed; that, along with what the family sees in their journey – all the horrors brought to innocent people – gives Zuko and Azula a new perspective on what they used to think was a greater good. It will still take a while for Azula to understand that no, these people are no lesser than her and for Zuko to understand why any of that matters.

Iroh eventually tells them the truth about Azulon’s death. Or at least, what he knows of it: their father killed Azulon, banished them, took the throne by force and planned to gain more power at the expense of everyone. This is a lot to take in, and the siblings don’t quite believe it.

After four years thinking about it, Zuko and Azula decided to take their mother’s early words – they went to Hira’a to be safe – and formulate what for them was a reasonable scenario. They believe that Ozai never actually wanted any of this to happen. The whole family had to have been in danger, be it due to some political, social or personal threat, and Ozai wanted to take it all by himself to protect them. So he sent his wife and children away, concocted a plan with Azulon to cover for them and, once Azulon died and left him the throne, remarried to keep appearances. To Zuko and Azula, this makes perfect sense. And they thoroughly convince themselves of that.

They initiate an argument, thinking that Iroh is jealous of Ozai.

Their uncle sees these children are starting to stray from their path, but he knows this is a necessary journey for them. They will never be able to deal with reality unless they face it.

The siblings leave Iroh, planning to head straight to the Fire Nation capital and find out what really happened. Maybe now that they are older, it would be a perfect time to come back home; they surely could defend themselves from any threats.

Of course, they’ll be very disappointed to know that Ozai was just a bitch and never actually cared for any of them.

I don’t have a full formed idea about how their reencounter with their father would go down, but I say Ozai would officially banish both his children from the Fire Nation for trying to cause a commotion – which could easily be perceived as a threat. Not only that, but Zuko and Azula are the children of a traitor; cue for Ozai revealing what happened that night four years ago, confirming that he was the one to kill Azulon with Ursa’s help.

I also think that, after that day, the Firelord would have discreetly helped spread rumours about Ursa that would drag her name through the mud in the Capital – was she cheating on Ozai? Was she selling Fire Nation information to the Earth Kingdom? Was she planning a coup against the Firelord? Her crimes change from mouth to mouth. In the end, no one would take Zuko or Azula back unless Ozai wanted it. But he doesn’t. Not now, at least…

But Ozai also decides to play with his options: he plants a seed of doubt in his children’s minds; should they prove themselves useful later on, it would only take pulling a few strings for them to come crawling back to him. So he tells them that they needed to prove themselves for everyone to see that they weren’t traitors like their mother. They needed to prove their worth so that he could accept them.

Ozai goes a step further with Azula and tells her that, before his demise, Firelord Azulon had a plan. A plan to bring her back and put her in the leading, prestigious role she was always meant to get. But they needed to wait for the right time. There is a right time, Princess Azula. Your hopes were right all along, they will come for you eventually if you prove yourself.

The siblings have a lot to think about while they’re leaving the Fire Nation. They idolized Ozai so much all these years. But the undeniable truth came crashing down on their heads, spoken by the man himself. What would they do now? They didn’t think it possible, but their harsh actions made things so much worse: they couldn’t come back to their mother, they didn’t have many hopes of running into Iroh again, they can’t even set foot in their homeland anymore; Zuko and Azula are all on their own.

Maybe it’s time to turn a new leaf. It starts with them being fairly neutral, not completely loyal to either the Fire Nation or to the rest of the world. During this period, they would argue a lot about what to do or where to go next, getting separated and going their own ways before destiny makes them stick together again, over and over.

They manage to get a few deals and own a few favours here and there, become known thieves as the Spirits, and maybe meet up with Ty Lee’s circus every now and again. Life is hard.

But there is one thing that is about to be a beacon in their darkness…

Time to catch up to the show. Oh, you thought I wouldn’t go there?

Part 3 coming right up!

(I know I said this would be a two-parter, but it got ridiculously long, so I split it again. Three-parter now.)

#I planned on posting this much earlier #But I've been having some technical issues #I suppose it happens #This is still messy #And it will only get messier #It would be one long fanfiction #Avatar the Last Airbender #ATLA #canon divergence #Zuko #Azula #Ursa #Firelord Azulon #Firelord Ozai #(Bitchlord) #Uncle Iroh #Ty Lee #King Bumi #Order of the White Lotus #Part 3 should be up in less than a week if I get time to post it

[jewish-space-laser]

Stand Back

Wow! I’ve only been back for a few hours, and there’s already been so, so much support. I missed you all. This piece is one of my favorites, inspired by my R&RHoF excitement last winter. My dear friend, @for-fucks-sake-h​ beta’d this for me, and I loved her then and I love her now! Thank you all for believing in me! If you enjoy this story, shoot me some feedback :) 7.5k words

xoxo Tile

“Harry, c’mon!” Millie whined, tugging at his sleeve when he didn’t bother looking away from the TV. “This isn’t fair and you know it!”

“Millie, fuck’s sake, I already told you that it’s just not possible,” He rolled his eyes, reluctantly looking over at his puppy-dog-eyed best friend. She’d been pestering him for the better part of the afternoon, and he was beginning to get frustrated. She was definitely going to ruin his surprise.

“I just don’t understand,” she pouted, “I’m the one who got you into Stevie’s music in the first place, maybe I should be the one inducting her next week.”

“Yeah, you can do the performance bit, too,” he chuckled, “I’m sure the audience would love to hear your off-pitch, dying-cat screeches. Stevie would love it, too. Instant record deal- oof!”

The pillow hit his stomach with more force than he had expected, but it did nothing to wipe the shit-eating grin off of his face. Millie whacked him on the thigh, and then once more for good measure, before chucking his throw pillow – her makeshift weapon – across the room.

“I didn’t want to see your performance anyway,” she grumbled, “you’ll probably sing Edge of Seventeen, because you’re too basic to sing anything else, and I’ve already seen you perform that one.”

Harry smirked at the memory. They had been fifteen, almost sixteen, and Millie had managed to smuggle a few bottles of cider from her father’s ‘special fridge’ in the garage. Harry had climbed the tree outside her window for the umpteenth time, and the two of them had spent the entire night looking up youtube videos of their favorite rock singers, their virgin livers drunk off of just a few sips of alcohol.

“The 1983 performance was better,” Harry argued, throwing his hands up in outrage.

“You’re taking the piss,” Millie scoffed, swatting his hand away from her laptop, “The 1981 performance is clearly better. Her dance moves are absolutely insane, and the audio quality is better.”

“Her dance moves are mediocre at best in this one,” Harry stated, nodding his head to the guitar beat anyway, “anyone could replicate those.”

“I’d like to see you try!” Millie challenged. The duo regarded each other for a long moment, waiting for the other to back down, and completely oblivious to the hearts in their eyes, still too young to understand what they were feeling.

“Alright then,” Harry giggled, standing up on her bed, obnoxiously singing along to the music blaring from her laptop. He tried to imitate Stevie’s high kicks, the bounce in her step, and swung his arms around as if he were draped in the singer’s white shawl. Millie couldn’t fight the peals of laughter that bubbled up in her throat. He looked completely absurd.

“Just like the white-winged dove!” Millie sang, hopping up on her bed to join Harry.

The two of them bounced until the song was almost over, their voices riddled with gasps and coughs as they tried to catch their breath. The fun had ended abruptly, with Millie’s mother swinging the door open, asking the two red-faced teenagers if they knew that it was past midnight.

“First of all, that was a great performance,” Harry teased, appreciating the way Millie’s eyes softened as she too reminisced their teenage years. She’d always been a sucker for happy memories, and Harry had quickly learned that they were the best way to calm her down or change the subject. Most of her happy memories included him, anyway. “Second of all, this time around, you won’t be grounded for a week.”

“Yeah, because you won’t let me be there!”

“Millie, I told you, I promised Gemma I would bring her along and I only get to have one guest,” he lied, “she’s my sister, I couldn’t say no.”

“You say no to her all the time, in fact, you love saying no to her,” she pointed out, “plus, I’m kind of like your sister. We’ve known each other just as long.”

Harry felt his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t the first time she had said something along those lines, brother and sister, but it still hurt. He was beginning to think that she would never feel the same way about him that he did about her.

It was a curse, really. He had the world falling at his feet, enough girls were interested in him, and he was successful. But it didn’t matter, did it? Not when the only person he wanted thought of him like a brother.

“Right, yeah,” he cleared his throat. He quickly stood up, mumbling something about getting them more tea, but really he just wanted to hide the burn of tears behind his eyelids. When he came back, Millie was squinting at the screen of her laptop, hunching over so her face was inches from the screen.

“I’m buying my own damn ticket,” she informed him.

Fuck, he thought.

“Okay, okay, stop,” he groaned, closing her laptop. Millie’s hands were still suspended in front of her, poised to type when he shut the computer in her lap. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but there’s a front row seat at the Hall of Fame with your name on it.”

“I KNEW IT!” She cried, shoving the laptop off of her legs and throwing her arms around his neck. “I knew you wouldn’t just leave me behind!”

Harry melted into the hug, winding his arms around her shoulders and back and subtly inhaling as he pressed his nose into her hair. She was practically vibrating with excitement, which made him grin with pride. It may not have been the surprise he had planned, but it was certainly the reaction he’d been expecting.

“You were making it really hard to lie to you,” he admitted, tugging her back when she tried to step out of their embrace. He wasn’t quite ready to let go of her yet. “I was going to tell you tomorrow at dinner, had a whole plan.”

“I’d say I’m sorry for forcing it out of you, but I’m not sorry in the slightest!” She wiggled out of his arms, successfully this time, and gave him a look of pure happiness that made his insides turn to putty. “Does this mean you’ll tell me what song you’re performing?”

Harry snickered, batting her hands away when she went to pinch his arm. He wasn’t about to reveal all of his surprises.

“Not a chance!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh my god, turn this up!” Millie squealed, already reaching over to twist the volume knob on the dashboard.

“Oi!” Harry snapped, swatting her hand away with a steely glare. “What did I just tell you about touching m’ new car?”

“You told me not to make fingerprints on the window,” Millie crossed her arms over her chest, “you never said I couldn’t touch the radio.”

“It was implied,” Harry said through gritted teeth. Normally, Millie’s stubbornness was oddly charming, but today she was truly getting on his last nerve.

Harry had finally saved up enough money for a new car. Grueling ten-hour bakery shifts, babysitting jobs, yardwork, any penny he could get his hands on, had all finally been worth it. He didn’t technically have his license yet, since he was only sixteen, but nobody really paid attention once you got out into the country. Most kids knew how to drive anyway, one of the benefits of growing up in small English farmtown.

The car, which he had bought off of a classmate’s older brother, was a complete piece of shit, but that didn’t stop Harry from polishing every last surface, inside and out. It was a Mustang, and even though the front bumper was dented and it had chips in the paint, it was his pride and joy. He’d overheard a group of girls talking about how sexy it was that Brad Hannagan, his lab partner, had gotten a car. Apparently, he’d taken Allison Fishman to the next town over for dinner, and then they made out in his front seat. Harry wanted his car to be sexy, too.

There was really only one girl he wanted to impress though, and she was currently spilling granola bar crumbs onto his leather seats.

“Millie!” He whined. “You’re getting everything all messy!”

“You’re being so anal, H,” she had just shoved the rest of her bar into her mouth, so her voice came out muffled and garbled, “this is supposed to be fun! Our first ride together in your new car.”

“It is rather special, huh,” Harry nodded thoughtfully, “how do I look in the driver’s seat?”

“Honestly?” She raised an eyebrow. “You look… kinda hot. But do not let that go to your head or else I’ll - ohmygod! Harry, seriously turn it up, it’s Stevie Nicks!”

This time, he didn’t complain when Millie reached over and pressed three different buttons on his dashboard, because the girl he liked thought he was attractive, his windows were rolled all the way down, and the chorus of Stand Back was blaring through his speakers.

This feeling was worth every window smudge, crumb on his seat, and unwelcome dashboard push, he thought. Especially if it meant seeing Millie like this: long hair blowing out the window, head thrown back with her eyes closed, and feet tapping along to her favorite song.

It was a miracle he could keep his eyes on the road.

Harry was going to sing Stand Back. He knew it, Stevie knew it, almost the entire crew backstage knew it, but Millie was still in the dark. It was her favorite song, and he had every intention of putting on a show for her.

He was already dressed in his suit. He’d chosen another custom-made Gucci, a deep matte black fabric with metallic bronze flowers twisting up his torso and down his legs. He’d even let the makeup artist apply some matching bronze eyeshadow to his face, something he’d always wanted to try out. His shoes were plain, black with a bit of a lifted heel, and his only other accessory was a bronze colored tambourine. This was a Stevie Nicks tribute, after all, it wouldn’t be complete without her signature instrument.

The moment he stepped on stage, he knew his outfit choice was a hit. He hadn’t even started his speech before the familiar screaming started, but he’d grown used to the high pitched noise.

He hadn’t been able to meet with Millie beforehand, but it was hard to look away from her now (not that keeping his eyes off of her had ever been easy for him). She was sitting in the front row with a proud smile on her face, and a sinfully tight silver dress on her body, and Jesus Christ she looked incredible. He gave her a lopsided smirk before squinting his eyes into the lights over the audience.

The moment the first notes of the song echoed from the speakers lining the walls, Millie’s jaw dropped lower than Harry had ever seen. He smirked at her, licking his lips cockily as he started bobbing his head. The cheers from the crowd only spurred him on. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, never looking away from his best friend.

“No one looks, I walk by, just an invitation would have been just fine,” he crooned, unable to stop himself from tapping his feet to the rhythm.

He’d opted out of playing the guitar during the performance, wanting to focus more on his vocals. He tore his eyes away from Millie, who was still watching him in awe. This song was for her, but there was still an entire venue crowded with thousands of people, and this was the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. He’d rather fling himself from the Empire State Building than give a poor performance.

“Stand back, stand back,” he ripped the mic from its stand, prancing across the stage and flipping the hair out of his eyes with a dramatic snap of his neck, “in the middle of my room, I did not, hear from you….”

“La la la la la la la, la la,” he closed his eyes as he turned his back to the crowd, seeing the bright bronze and burnt orange visuals on the screen through his eyelids.

He knew he absolutely killed the performance, if the whoops and hollers were any indication. He could hear the cheers, see people dancing, see her dancing. She seemed to have befriended the woman next to her, as they were both shouting out the lyrics along with him with their hips bumping.

“Take me home….” Harry belted, his voice turning grainy the longer he held the note. When the music finally faded out, he let out a low chuckle into the microphone, relieved to have done the song justice.

It took several minutes for the applause to die down enough for him to speak, and by the time it did, he had no idea what to say.

“Ehm, hello New York!” He called into the microphone, clearing his throat. “It’s an honor to be here.”

Writing a speech about Stevie was the easiest thing he’d ever done. All he had to do was be honest, after all; she was an inspiration, a legend. The definition of a powerful woman. The kind of person who supports young struggling artists, can whip out a killer song in less than an hour, who dedicates her life to bringing melody and emotion to her fans. A poet. A magician.

Giving the speech was another story. The sweat on his back was making the fabric of his undershirt stick to his skin in the most suffocating manner, and Millie’s burning stare had all but caused his brain to short circuit. She’d looked at him like that just once before. He thought about it often, usually when he was alone with his hands shoved between his thighs.

Millie was four drinks in.

Harry knew this because he’d been counting. He had gone to enough parties with her to know that she got a bit… loose once she’d had a few, and he’d taken it upon himself to keep her away from every man who dared look in her direction.

“Stop shooting daggers at everyone, H,” she’d complained, “I wanna dance with someone, but you’re scaring them off. They probably think you’re my boyfriend.”

Good, he’d thought.

“Mills, the men here look sleazy as fuck,” he’d said sternly, “I’m not letting you rub yourself all over some chav.”

“Well, I need to rub myself all over someone, or I swear I’ll lose my mind,” she giggled, her eyelids more hooded than usual as she leaned up against the bar, “you know how I get when I drink.”

Maybe he wouldn’t have normally responded in the way that he did, but he’d had a few to drink himself. The words were pouring out of him before he could stop them, his filter broken down by the whisky double he’d choked down earlier.

“Y’could dance on me.”

Millie hummed, slowly raking her eyes over him from his shoes to the stray curl on his forehead. Instead of giving him an answer, she leaned over the bar to whisper something to the bartender.

He wanted to kick himself. She’d said it time and time again: he was like a brother to her. He started running excuses through his head, things he could say to break the tension and make her forget that he’d ever uttered the words.

“Now that’s an idea,” she finally said, carelessly dropping a bill onto the counter beside her. Harry raised his eyebrows, shocked. When the shots she ordered appeared by her elbow, she slid one over to Harry wordlessly. He took it without hesitation, the burn of tequila tickling his lips long after the bitter taste faded away.

“A good idea?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. “Or a bad one?”

She had never looked at him like this before. Harry had long ago memorized every facial expression she’d ever thrown at him, and prided himself in being able to read her like a book, but this was brand new territory. Her eyes, which were normally bright enough to blind him, had darkened. She was looking at him like she could see right through his clothes… like maybe she wanted to see right through his clothes.

“Why don’t we find out?”

It had taken him weeks to stop dreaming about the way Millie’s ass had felt pressed against him, or how dewy her skin had felt as he ran his hands over it, but now it was all rushing back. Not even the bright spotlight could disguise the fire in her eyes. She wanted him.

But he couldn’t think about that night at the club, not unless he wanted to pop a boner in front of thousands of attentive onlookers. He delivered his speech perfectly, but on the inside his stomach was twisting and tangling into knots, and he hadn’t been able to look at Millie throughout the entire thing.

The rest was a blur. The deafening roar of applause as Stevie came on. The brief hug he shared with her as he passed the microphone to her. The hand he placed on the older woman’s back while a video montage played on the giant screen. More applause. Millie’s eyes.

By the time he made it offstage, all he wanted to do was shove his hand down the front of his trousers, but he still had one more surprise he had to follow through with. With his back pressed against the wall and a twitching hand on his stomach, he took a few deep, heavy breaths. He needed to calm the fuck down, or he was going to blow his load the moment he saw her in that dress.

“Shit,” he exhaled, closing his eyes.

He wasn’t near as composed as he wanted to be, but one of his security guards would be leading Millie backstage any second. He’d arranged for her to meet Stevie, something he knew she’d been wanting since they were children.

“Harry!”

He looked over to see his best friend galloping towards him, his frazzled looking security guard trailing after her.

“Sorry we’re late,” the man apologized, adjusting the walkie-talkie that was clipped to his belt, “she ran ahead and went the wrong way, so we had to backtrack and ended up getting lost.”

“That sounds about right- oof!” Millie clearly hadn’t pumped the brakes, barreling straight into him. If he hadn’t been against the wall, the two of them would have ended up on the floor. “You can take the rest of the night off, Dave.”

His guard didn’t argue, quickly spinning on his heel and leaving the pair to themselves. She’d glued herself to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his waist as she swayed them back and forth.

“Missed you,” she mumbled.

“Just saw you last week, Mills.”

“Yeah, too long,” she nodded. Harry liked the way the tip of her nose rubbed against his dress shirt.

He chuckled fondly, gently easing her back with his hands on her shoulders. “How’d you like my song?”

“H, I can’t even describe how incredible it was. Like… I’ll be honest,” she blushed, “you looked… kind of hot. But do not let that go to your head, or else I’ll chop off your bollocks.”

Suddenly, he was fifteen again, bouncing all over her bed and getting her in trouble. He was sixteen, preening as Millie complimented him from the passenger’s seat. He was twenty-two, filled with euphoria as they moved on the dance floor. He was twenty-five, looking at her silver dress and feeling the overwhelming need to kiss her.

She was peering up at him like she might want him to, wide eyes and tiny smile, but one glance over her shoulder told him that there were more important things on the agenda. Stevie was walking towards them slowly, her ridiculously tall heels causing her to teeter with each step she took.

“Don’t kill me,” Harry said quickly, “I have one more surprise.”

“Harry, what- OHMYGOD!”

Millie had thrown her hands over her face, cupping them against her mouth and nose. The moment Stevie came into her view, tears burned at the corners of her eyes and a few fell down her cheeks.

“Oh my,” Stevie cooed, stepping close and placing her hands on the younger girl’s elbows, “I know Harry’s a handful, but there’s no need to cry!”

“Heeeey,” he whined, but it fell on deaf ears.

He stood to the side and watched his best friend tell her idol about all of the amazing memories she had with her music. She told Stevie about the first time she played Landslide at her fourth grade piano recital, how she’d listened Edge of Seventeen on repeat for hours on her last night of being sixteen, how she’d written an essay about Leather and Lace for her creative writing class at uni. Millie’s hands were flying all over the place, clutching at her chest, in the air above her head, wound around Stevie in a secure hug. He’d done this for her, and there was no better feeling.

“Harry talks about you constantly,” Stevie smiled. Harry widened his eyes at her.

“Oh he does, does he?” Millie pursed her lips teasingly. “Hopefully nothing too horrible.”

“On the contrary,” Stevie’s eyes twinkled mischievously. Harry shook his head subtly. He’d given her a long and detailed monologue of his feelings for Millie during a particularly vulnerable songwriting session, but they had never mentioned it again. “He’s said only good things. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

Harry’s chest deflated with relief. He was going to send a very long, scolding text to Stevie later on this week.

When it was time to part ways, Harry left the two women alone to say their goodbyes while he made sure there was a car for him and Millie. They’d arranged for her to stay in his guest room, and all of her bags were already there. By the time she was walking over to him, mascara streaking down her face and a sad little smile on her lips, he was ready to have her all to himself.

“How’d I do?” He grinned, scooping her into his arms as she let out a shaky sob.

“I’m,” she let out a hiccup, “so happy!”

“Oh, Mills,” he cooed, rubbing a hand over her shoulder blade, “let’s go home, yeah? I can make you some tea?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

The pair began walking towards the back exit, clinging to each other. It made it harder to walk, being pressed together so tightly, but the thought of letting go didn’t sit well them them .

“My emotional Millie,” he hummed, “always so teary.”

“Shut up, Harry!” She cried as she slid into the car. He quickly followed, watching her buckle herself in and kick off her heels. “I can’t help it!”

“Didn’t mean it as an insult, babe,” the term of endearment slipped out before he could stop it, “means you’ve got a big heart. It’s sweet.”

“If anyone in this car is sweet, it’s you,” she sighed, “first, you fly me here all the way from London. Then, you perform my favorite song, and then you introduce me to Stevie Nicks… my absolute, complete, legendary-“

“It was nothing,” he said quietly, knowing that she’d never stop unless he cut her off. Millie scoffed, but he was telling the truth. He’d do anything for her, and if it made her happy, it didn’t feel like a chore.

“Nothing my arse.”

Millie had felt like she was high from all of the excitement, but the way Harry was looking at her was sobering. Despite the sharpness of his cheekbones and the hard line of his jaw, he looked soft, the pine green of his eyes turning to velvet.

“Why are you looking at me… like that?” She asked softly.

“Like what?” He mimicked the tone of her voice.

“Like…” she paused, gulping against a dry throat, “like you’re thinking about kissing me?”

“I am thinking about it,” he admitted, “I’m constantly thinking about it.”

She didn’t say a word, turning her head away and staring out the window. With anyone else, he would have been offended, but Millie was a deep thinker. She always took a bit longer to process things, lost in her own head. He twiddled his thumbs as they sat in silence for the rest of the drive.

He knew he couldn’t take it back. He probably shouldn’t have said it in the first place, but it was as if everything he loved about Millie had been amplified tonight. Hell, he’d just inducted a rock legend into the Hall of Fame, and all he thought about all night was her. She was in his head, in his heart, running through his veins, completely ransacking any rational thought he might have.

When the car stopped in front of his building, Millie was swinging her door open and marching across the lawn before he’d even gotten himself unbuckled. He quickly thanked the driver, scurrying after her like a madman, making sure to grab her forgotten heels before the car rolled away.

She had already walked into his apartment building, using the little fob he’d given her when he started renting in New York. His two level loft had an entrance on the first level, which is where he found her standing when he finally caught up. She was tapping one foot impatiently at his locked door.

“Mills….” he cleared his throat as he dug the house keys from his pocket, “I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean it?” She hissed.

“No, no,” he rushed, “I meant it. I just, I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

Once again, he was met with no response. Millie pushed the door open as soon as it was unlocked, and he could hear her stomping up the stairs. He sighed, fighting the pinprick of tears that threatened to form.

Harry didn’t know why she was reacting this way. Sure, she’d told him just last week that she was like a sister to him, but the way she’d undressed him with her eyes earlier had given him some hope. Maybe he’d just imagined it, conjured it up in his head to cope with his desperate need for her.

As much as he wanted to follow her up the stairs, he knew it was a bad idea. She was angry with him, and he couldn’t figure out why, but leaving her alone to simmer down had always been the best course of action.

“Harry, what the fuck!”

Harry’s eyes widened. This was his first day back to school after missing an entire week, and he realized with horror that he’d forgotten to text Millie about breaking his leg.

“You just vanish for an entire week, and then you show up to homeroom with… with bloody crutches?”

“‘M sorry,” he ducked his head, “I fell off my bike last weekend, and we had to stay in Manchester for a bit to get everything settled. I swear I didn’t mean to worry you-”

“Worry me,” his friend rolled her eyes. They were only thirteen years old, but Millie was more terrifying than most adults when she was well and truly angry. “Understatement of the century. I went by your house, and nearly organized a search party when nobody was home! Have you even checked your phone?”

He hadn’t.

“You know what? If not texting me is so easy, why don’t we just never speak again?”

“Mills,” he groaned, voice cracking slightly. They’d both noticed that his voice was starting to get a little bit deeper, and normally she’d tease the hell out of him for a voice crack like that, but she wasn’t in the mood. “I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t change how scared I was when you didn’t answer me!” She huffed, storming off. Just as he went to follow her, the bell rung, meaning he was already going to be late. With an irritated moan, he hobbled his way to his first class, hoping to god his teacher would let his tardiness slide when she saw his crutches.

She had, and later that night, Millie’s flailing pre-teen limbs fell through his bedroom window, eyes filling with tears and apologies leaking from her mouth.

“I thought about it all day, and once I calmed down… I just missed you.”

He chugged an entire glass of water before slamming it on his counter, taking a deep breath. His ears perked up at the sound of footsteps in his hallway, so he turned around to look at her. She was still in her dress, but had wiped off her makeup. He swears she’d never looked more beautiful.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” she said sheepishly.

“I’m sorry for-”

“No,” she gulped, “you don’t owe me any apologies. I was just… surprised.”

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say. He watched his feet, wiggling his toes awkwardly as an uncomfortable silence fell over them. Millie was shuffling around as well, debating whether or not she wanted to ask the question she’d been wanting to ask for years. Eventually, she couldn’t contain it anymore.

“How long have you been in love with me?”

Her voice was loud, but the volume isn’t what startled Harry. Sure, Millie had always been straightforward, fearless when it came to confrontation, but they’d never had a conversation like this. People had teased them as kids, telling them that boys and girls couldn’t be just friends, but they’d let the comments roll off of their backs.

“I… I-” he stuttered, his tongue suddenly feeling like an anvil in his mouth.

“You… don’t hide it well,” she divulged, looking at anything but him, “you’ve always been like an open book to me.”

“I’ve… yeah,” he choked out, “I, um, most of my life, I think.”

She started crying, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. He wanted to go over and hold her, like he usually did when she cried, but it was as if he was stepping into cement, absolutely rooted where he stood.

“Most of your life,” she echoed.

Harry rubbed a hand over his face, his skin feverish and beginning to bead with sweat. He needed to get out of his suit.

“I- you, yeah,” he croaked, robotically moving across the room to slip his blazer over one of the kitchen chairs. His legs felt like jelly, as if he’d completely forgotten how to walk.

“H,” she whimpered, “why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Why didn’t you ever say that you knew?”

Millie sucked in a breath, fiddling with the sequins on her dress. “I wasn’t completely sure. I mean, I was pretty sure, but then you’d talk about going on dates with other people, or… just, I had my doubts. But then tonight….”

“I was pretty obvious tonight,” he chuckled humorlessly, clearing his throat and scratching at his jaw, “and I never told you because… well look at us. We’ve never been this uncomfortable around each other.”

“H-”

“There were a few times I almost told you,” he gulped, “but… the timing was never right. You’d be in a relationship, or I’d be out on tour. It never lined up.”

This time, when Millie let out a sob, Harry didn’t hesitate to tuck her under his arm.

“You’re such a wanker,” she bawled, pressing her forehead into the skin between his sparrow tattoos, “obviously I love you too.”

Harry couldn’t breath. Had his heart stopped beating? Was he alive? Maybe he was hallucinating. The girl he loved, his best friend, was currently pressing her entire body against him, and she apparently felt the same way he did.

“How long?”  He asked.

“Most of my life,” Millie giggled.

“Fuck,” Harry wept, licking the tears away from his lips, “we’ve wasted so much time. Could have been together ages ago.”

She looked up at his face with a watery smile. “We’re here now. Still wanna kiss me?”

Harry leaned down and mashed his lips to hers in one fluid motion, loving the way it felt to have her like this. Millie was pushing herself closer, the pressure of the kiss making them both smile. She tasted like salty teardrops and toothpaste, and he probably smelled like a gym locker after loping around the stage, but neither of them minded, completely captivated by the feeling of finally moving their mouths together.

Once the floodgates had been opened, there was no way of stopping it. What had been a sweet, almost innocent embrace, was suddenly rough and desperate. Their soft touches were now strong and unyielding, calculated movements gave way to impulse and speed. They were like a river breaking free of its dam; calm waters growing higher and stronger until the tension became too much, cracking the barrier and releasing every single pent up drop. They were white-capped waves, beautiful and chaotic as they crashed against each other.

“I’ve thought about this so many times,” Millie heaved, clenching her fist around the fabric of his shirt while he nipped at her jaw.

“‘Bout kissing me?”

“No, I mean, yes- oh!” She yelped, hissing through gritted teeth as Harry licked over the spot he’d bitten into her neck. “Yeah, b-but, also about what it would feel like to have sex with you.”

He’d been ignoring his semi since he walked off stage earlier in the night, but the moment she spoke, he could feel his cock chub up in his trousers, the blood rushing below his belt making him a bit dizzy.  

“Thought about that too,” he was hunched over as far as his back would allow, his craving to taste the skin below her collarbones much stronger than the strain on his spine.

“We should probably do it then, yeah?”

Harry moaned. He had been suppressing his inappropriate thoughts about the way she looked since the moment he saw her in the crowd, but now he could let them roam freely. He wanted to gather her hair into his fists, peel the dress off of her body, absolutely ruin her lipstick (he was a little bit disappointed that she’d wiped it off). He couldn’t wait to make his fantasy a reality.

“We probably should,” he agreed, pushing the strap of her dress down her arm, “only if you want.”

“Obviously I do, bloody bellend,” she said impatiently, undoing the buttons on his dress shirt, “god, this outfit was so sexy tonight. When you were singing, all I could think about was how bad I wanted you to fuck me.”

“I know,” Harry smirked, “saw the look on your face when I was done. Nearly got a boner during my speech.”

“The sex eyes can’t be tamed,” she shrugged, finally unfastening the last button under his navel. She tugged the material from the waistband of his trousers and pushed it off of his shoulders.

“Don’t want you to tame ‘em,” he growled, moving closer to her when the zipper of her dress snagged under his fingertips, “want you to keep the sex eyes on, and get this fucking dress off!”

When he finally got the zipper down, he practically ripped it away from her body, tugging it roughly over her hips and letting it fall to the floor in a crumpled heap. Millie didn’t even have time to step out of it before Harry was lifting her bridal style.

“Don’t you fucking dare drop me!” She shrieked, lightly swatting his shoulder when he set her down on top of his kitchen table.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mills.”

She opened her mouth to tell him off again, but her train of thought completely derailed when he got on his knees and sucked her clit through her underwear. She couldn’t suppress her moans, especially as he swept the flimsy fabric to the side and really dug in, tongue licking over every bit of her and calloused fingers plucking at her clit.

Millie sighed feverishly. The rough texture of his fingers and the smooth wetness of his mouth felt practically angelic, while the sounds filling his kitchen were sinful. Wet pops of his lips and hollow slurps when he suctioned his cheeks in wre driving her hellishly insane.

“I can’t come like this,” she panted, “I want to see your face.”

He pulled off of her, leaving one last kitten-lick to her folds before rising to his feet. His lips were swollen and shiny as he undid the zip on his trousers, quickly stripping the bronze and black fabric from his legs. He pressed his erection against Millie’s sopping core, letting her soak into the fabric of his boxers. Everything was warm and wet and smooth, just like he’d always imagined.

“Let me fuck you,” he pleaded.

“Condom?” She asked, feeling her walls twitch as if they were trying to guide Harry’s cock inside on its own. “‘M not on the pill….”

“Right,” he swallowed harshly, “Okay, yeah. I’ve got to run upstairs and get one.”

“I’ll stay right here,” Millie promised, peeling her undergarments off the moment he was out of sight.

Whenever she pictured having sex with Harry, it was romantic; white sheets and fluffy pillows, a warm summer breeze, maybe even some scented candles and music. She certainly hadn’t imagined it happening on the hard wood of his kitchen table, but in a way, it was even more perfect.

Their friendship, their relationship was unique. They were two people who had spent the better parts of their lives dancing around each other, orbiting like two planets, feeling the weight of the gravity but never touching. It was only fitting that their first time together was unconventional.

Harry practically sprinted back into the kitchen, wincing at how cold the tile felt against his bare feet. However, he didn’t focus on that long, too distracted by the skin Millie had revealed in his absence.

She was laying down still, and her exposed breasts fell slightly to the sides, their undersides resting on top of her ribcage. She’d splayed her legs open upon seeing him, giving him his first unobstructed view of her heat.

“Christ,” he wheezed, “let me just….”

He ripped the condom package open with his teeth, slipping the clear latex from its confines and pinching it his fingers while he ripped his briefs from his body. He rolled it on slowly, almost teasingly, when he noticed Millie watching with an attentive gaze.

“Ready?” He hummed.

“Please, H,” she nodded, wiggling her hips in anticipation.

He gave her a breathtaking smile before pushing inside. She was so slick that he managed to push all the way in with one single stroke, causing Millie’s back to arch off of the table. Harry’s knees nearly gave out when she clenched around him, so he gripped her thighs and locked them around his hips to keep himself steady.

This had to be his favorite position.

From where he was standing, he could see the entire expanse of her body, laid out so prettily against his table. He could watch himself push in and out of her, seeing how his cock glistened with her wetness all the way down to the base, admire the way the flesh of her hips creased as they bent to accommodate him, watch her breasts bounce and jiggle with every thrust. If he leaned forward just the slightest amount, maybe he could even reach up to roll her nipples between his fingers.

Millie loved it, too. She liked the way Harry’s stomach muscles concave with each flex, the rapid snap of his hips affecting every nerve in his body. She absolutely loved watching a red flush creep up his chest and neck, the black ink of his tattoos standing out even more against the rosiness. Most of all, she liked watching his face. It was almost as if he didn’t know where he wanted to look most, his blown-out pupils flickering over every inch of her body.

The smell of sex wafted over them, sweet, sensual, and uniquely theirs. Their bodies were sticky with sweat as they slapped together, filling the loft with wet claps and breathy moans. It was raw, carnal, a complete release of the tension they’d been holding in for years.

When Millie was close, Harry dropped one of her legs to play with her clit, knowing that he’d find his release the second she found hers. Her lips were mouthing his name, but no sound came out. He watched, utterly bewitched, as her fingers curled into her palms and a strangled moan fell from her throat.

She gushed her release onto him, and he felt it drip down the fronts of his thighs as she tightened around his cock. He’d never made a woman squirt this much before. Profanities poured from his lips as he felt his balls clench, cumming into the condom with so much force that he had to bend over and rest his torso over hers to keep from falling over. His face was nuzzled into Millie’s breasts.

It was Harry who broke the silence after several minutes of shallow breathing. “Well, fuck, Mills.”

“Holy cow,” she coughed, “okay, first of all, I need some water, second, we’re doing that again immediately.”

He chuckled into her skin, nipping at her breast playfully before standing upright and looking between them. They’d made quite a mess of themselves, not that he minded.

Millie slid off the table, walking her shaky legs over to the sink, where she stuck her entire head under the faucet. Harry smiled to himself; seemingly, nothing had changed about their dynamic. He was afraid that professing his love for her might change the way they acted around each other, but she was just as silly as she’d always been.

“Millie, no! That’s so unsanitary,” a twenty-year-old Harry complained. Millie had just stuck her entire head into the unisex bathroom sink, chugging at the stream of water, “this is a karaoke bar, probably germs everywhere.”

“I was thirsty,” she informed him, wiping the back of her hand over her mouth, “and there’s only one more person in front of me. How am I supposed to sing Stevie Nicks with a dry throat?”

“How are you supposed to sing Stevie Nicks when your voice sounds like a police siren?” He countered with a smirk. His best friend crossed her arms over her chest in offense.

“We can’t all be professional singers, you knob,” she bit out, swinging the door open with more force than necessary. She’d only had a drink or two, but Harry drank enough to make the room spin.

“‘M not a knob,” he muttered to himself as he followed after her.

“You sure are!” Millie called over her shoulder.

When it was time for her to take the stage, Harry made sure that his seat was all the way up front and his phone camera was at the ready. Millie had always been a horrible singer, but that had never stopped her. He couldn’t wait to post the video to his private instagram in the morning.

“Stand back, stand back!” She screeched, flipping Harry the bird when he started laughing, “in the middle of my room, I did not, hear from you!”

Her hair was flopping all over the place, hips moving back and forth while she hopped up and down. He wished he’d gone up there with her, wanting to wrap an arm over her shoulder or put his hands on her waist.

“I would cry… la la la la la la la, la la….”

He was in a perpetual state of wanting to be near her. It felt like it was part of his identity at this point. His name was Harry, he had curly hair, he wore tight jeans, and he wanted to be touching Millie.

Twenty-five year old Harry wished he could go back in time and tell his younger self that he’d get to touch her, whenever he wanted and for however long he wanted. He’d held her close while they showered together, placed a hand on the small of her back while she sifted through his dresser for pajamas to wear, and had her sprawled over his chest while she slept in his arms.

He closed his eyes, a smile never leaving his face as he imagined having her at twenty-six, twenty-seven, thirty. Maybe even fifty, sixty, and seventy. Trips down memory lane are much more enjoyable when there’s a future.

And yeah, he thought, revelling in the tickle of her soft snores as they puffed into his skin, there was definitely going to be a future.

~~~

Thank you for reading, if you’ve made it this far! Leave me a message, I’d love to know your thoughts <3

xoxo Tile

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry #styles #one direction #1dff #fanfiction #friends to lovers #stand back

[unordinaryquotes]

UnOrdinary Chapter 192 Review

-At least John can realize Zeke’s just a bitch. How long is that gonna last though? We know our supreme king will has no problem using others

-Guys I’m crying. Arlo showing the caring side of him is amazing and the fact that he only really does it for Remi is sweet.

-Remi basically saying “If it weren’t for you telling me that, I would tear John apart” I’m also glad that Arlo and Remi are continuing with Arlo’s rest period.

-Get you a blonde tsundere who calls you by a nickname when tired.

-It’s not a club, it’s a treehouse gathering. Also, not Remi’s fault that literally everyone but you likes her and is willing to go along with her ideas. John admitting he’s new is kinda crap as well, weren’t you King in your previous school, you should have some experience. Oh wait, I forgot, he spent all that time terrorizing innocent kids rather than doing anything Kingly.

-I understand him being skeptical about Arlo, but the Blyke one is stupid. Blyke tried so hard to be nice to you and apologized for what he did. I get you were going through a hard time, but you can’t ignore the effort he made.

-Holden being included in things makes me so happy. I want him to get more focus in the story and develop cute relationships with the other characters (I’m holding out for a Holden and Evie friendship)

-John’s so mad that everyone else still sees worth in Seraphina, not our fault you dropped her the moment she started challenging you. Also John finally got the idea of the Safe House right, just people hanging out in a room. Not so sure about the shitty comment though.

-John just wants people to feel as shitty as he feels so when no one takes it he gets mad. Also proof that John isn’t doing this to help students, he’s doing it to exact revenge on the people who wronged him. While I’m not a fan of the saying “An eye for an eye makes everyone blind” John isn’t just taking the Royals eyes, he’s running around stabbing passerby’s eyes as well.

-John, you have just activated the trope trap card. Because of your foolish statement Safe House will now not only succeed, but make you the biggest joke since the chicken crossed the road. Though if I were to give my real thoughts, I do think the Safe House will start off shakily but eventually evolve into a great place.

-We finally got a name for Arlo’s aunt! Aunt Valerie. Guess both her real name and code name start with a V. This also might be the most relaxed we’ve ever seen Arlo. A casual way of sitting and loose fitting clothing really makes it seem like he’s relaxing at home. It could be that he’s a lot more comfortable with his aunt, probably even more than Remi.

-These two lines...these two lines made me go ballistic. Let’s unpack this one by one. First off, Valerie and Arlo haven’t talked to each other in a while apparently. From the voice comment I’m guessing the last time they spoke was when Arlo was going through or right before his growth spurt in second year. This is interesting for two reasons. One, cause this is around the time that Arlo had to deal with all the weight of becoming King and Rei leaving. Instead of relying on anyone or even calling his aunt for advice, he took on the entire thing by himself. That’s way too much stress for any kid to handle and the fact that he wouldn’t even give a call to a respected relative shows he was dead set on doing everything by himself, which led to extreme stress and a change in personality. Second is that Arlo probably hasn’t been going home for any holidays. Normally at holidays a school like this would have the choice for kids to go home or stay on campus, and his aunt not hearing him in a while could be signifying that he hasn’t gone home during these break times. Instead, he probably spent the holidays alone (or maybe during his first year he was invited by Rei over to his home, please Uru) which worsened his lack of communication and dependency. But why wouldn’t he go home...well the next lines are interesting

-Valerie asking how is Arlo’s father seems normal on the surface but if you think about it, it’s real fucking weird. They’re in the same family aren’t they? Shouldn’t Valerie be in contact with Arlo’s father, especially if he’s her brother. This makes me think that Valerie is related to Arlo on his mom’s side which will be important later. Still, why would two family members not be in contact with each other? A reason could be that the family was broken up for whatever reason or maybe the two hate each other. Notice how Valerie doesn’t ask about Arlo’s mom, could his mom be out of the picture? Either from divorce or possibly death. Could his fixation on finding out about Rei’s death be because his own mother died at a young age. Maybe she got into an accident or was killed? Or maybe, it was suicide. That would definitely break a family apart to the point of no contact between in laws. What if Arlo’s father is abusive and drove his mom to suicide? Maybe Valerie hates his father for basically killing her sister and she tried her best to be there for her son. She probably couldn’t win a custody battle but she always tried her best to be in his life to be a positive role model. Arlo himself doesn’t seem to pleased talking about his father. A simple “He’s fine” and a curt “Great” in response. The two have probably done this a number of times, neither of them really caring about Arlo’s father.

-Why can I already see the two of them ending up at the boba store in town, with Arlo suggesting the mango boba to her and Valerie looking absolutely bewildered that he would say something like that.

-Another weird thing though is the question “Are you still going to Wellston?” Wouldn’t she have already known this. I think it’s more proof that she and Arlo’s father aren’t in contact. Also could it be that Arlo actually moved schools a lot as a kid or that his family might have a more impoverished life style that couldn’t support a high end school. (Probably not but it’s an idea)

-So Valerie’s division just so happens to transfer her to the Wellston area when only a few months ago we got that Ember report stating they’re gonna start making their moves on the Wellston targets. Suspicious. People who’ve had family in the police, are transfers like this normal?

-We’re gonna get our Arlo and Valerie meeting soon and I’m gonna be living for it. I also want Valerie and Seraphina to run into each other and have a talk. Just give Valerie a chance to show a caring side to her and maybe even info dump Arlo’s backstory to Sera. But this is all so when Valerie is revealed not only Arlo will be betrayed, but Sera too. A 2 for 1 special

-What’s this look for though? Is he getting suspicious about his aunt? Or could it be that he’s reluctant to actually meet with her? Maybe he doesn’t want her to see what he’s become. Either way, I’m expecting a lot of drama when these two meet face to face

This entire review was actually just Arlo theories, the Remi things were just a way to trick you into seeing my inane ramblings

#unordinary #unordinary arlo #unordinary remi #unordinary john #unordinary valerie

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Decryption_Error: “Catastrophic Failure”

Summary: Y/N does everything she can to help Elliot one last time.

Warnings: Angst, Discussion of DID and Mental Health

A/N: * = dialogue taken directly and/or paraphrased from the show; ** = researched tech stuff (not my thoughts/ideas)

Word Count: 6767

Decryption_Error: All Chapters

I blinked away a drugged sleep as my phone blared. I thought I had silenced it, but then again, my overreliance on my anxiety meds was making everything muddled.

Elliot 🖤

I had to be dreaming.

I hadn’t heard from Elliot since he walked away from me on Coney Island a week ago.

I had to be dreaming, but I could still hear the warble of my ringtone and I could feel the vibrations of my phone as I stared at his name.

I touched my thumb stupidly to the green icon and slid it to answer, expecting no one to be on the other end.

“Hello?”

“I need you to come out to your parents’ house. There’s not a lot … not a lot of time. Please.”  

“Elliot?” I questioned, my pulse quickening at the edge of desperation in his voice. “Please tell me this is really you.”

A harsh, shuffling sound made me pull the phone slightly away from my ear, then the line went dead.

I lowered my phone to stare at the screen as it went black, but the persistent hammering of my heart reminded me that really did happen and I needed to move … fast.

I fumbled my way through the dark and into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face to clear my head. I brushed my teeth as I walked into the closet and pulled on my still-sandy jeans and jostled into my also-still-sandy sweater from the night not-Elliot walked away from me. I yanked my sweater down as it caught on my toothbrush before I rushed back into the bathroom to rinse.

I stumbled as I slid into my sneakers, but when a small pile of sand fell out of the tread, I stared at it, remembering the story Elliot told me about a day he and his father played hooky and went to the beach. When he got home, his sneakers were full of sand and he dumped them on his bedroom floor. His mother was furious, but his father wasn’t. Elliot had said he often thought about that moment, about how difficult it would be to take enough sand away from that beach, shoe-full by shoe-full to make a difference in the landscape.*

“Is that what you really want, El?” I asked as his fingers ran through my hair while I laid with my head in his lap, looking up and watching his chin move as he spoke. “To change the world?”

“I don’t know. It takes so long to make any real change. What if I don’t have the stomach for it?”*

“Well,” I said slowly, smiling as I reached up to angle his face so he looked down at me, his own mouth mirroring my soft smile as he waited for me to continue. “It didn’t take you all that long to change my life.”

“Has it been a good change?” he asked as his smile grew to a grin.

“The best change,” I answered as my happy grin paralleled Elliot’s, our exchange of mirrored smiles offering the perfect evidence for how we had changed each other’s lives for the best.

I gasped for a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding as that memory assaulted me.  

“Fuck!” I yelled into the void of my closet as I pushed away the sweetness of the memory and forced my mind back to the agony of the present.

I adjusted my shoes, and tore out of the bedroom, only slowing my pace as I passed the guest room. I offered a prayer to anything listening that my parents stayed fast asleep.

After Elliot was fired and I didn’t answer my dad’s phone calls, he came to my apartment. I had managed to keep myself together for the rest of the work week, but the second I saw my dad, the dam inside of me broke.

I clung to him as he cradled me on the sofa, reduced to an inconsolable child as the heartbreak of losing Elliot flooded through me.

Mom and Dad cancelled their Memorial Day plans, even though it was going to be the first once since they had officially moved into the Greenwich house. Kath decided to host Josh’s family at their place, and Erin, Ryan, and Charlie decided to fly down to Palm Beach for the weekend. Each of my siblings did their best to cajole me into joining them, but they all knew I wasn’t going to.

Mom then made a very loud proclamation to anyone who would listen that she and my dad would stay with me in the city until I was “feeling more like myself.”

I didn’t have the strength to fight her, and although I was hesitant to admit it, having my parents to take care of me as my world fell apart helped.

After grabbing my bag, I shut the door to my apartment as quietly as I could, and as I waited for the elevator, I glanced at my phone to check the time.

2:07 am

I tried not to think that exactly one year ago, Elliot was asleep in my bed after we had a picnic and had gotten high, both of us basking in feelings that came at the beginning of a relationship, both of our hearts identical twins of hope for the possibility of an “us.”

I fumbled with the door to my SUV and settled in, slapping my cheeks to shake off the remnants of my meds. As a final thought, I checked my call history just to make sure everything still had really happened.

Elliot 🖤 1:54 am

I put the car in reverse, and quickly made my way out of the city.

* * * * *

I was rigid with fear as I finally pulled into my parents’ house, my stomach in knots and my head aching from clenching my jaw for the entire drive.

Considering Elliot’s phone call, I was unsurprised that the front door was unlocked.

Opening it slowly, I stepped into the pitch-black entryway, my eyes scanning the dark for any movement. I moved to check the alarm system, but it had already been disabled.

As my eyes adjusted, I looked to the staircase but changed my mind and made my way to my dad’s office—the office where Elliot and I had stopped the hackers over the Fourth of July weekend.

There was a light coming from Dad’s office, the familiar muted wash of a computer screen’s glow.

I pushed into the room with caution, my gaze settling on Elliot as he was seated at my dad’s computer, his fingers working at a pace that would’ve been deemed brutal for anyone else.

“Elliot?”

He never took his eyes off the screen, nor did his fingers falter as he replied, “No.”

“Why would you call me?”

“I didn’t,” not-Elliot said as he finally stopped typing and raised his eyes to mine, his cheek bright red with what would surely be a nasty bruise in a few hours.

“You hurt him?”

“He was getting in our way.”

“Our? As in you and Mr. Robot? So you’re a team now?”

Anger spurned my body into motion. I rushed to the desk and kicked the chair so it rolled him away from the computer.

He didn’t fight me.

I glared at him, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. I turned away to look at the monitor, my eyes narrowing in concentration as I worked to figure out what he was running.

My mouth dropped open when I realized I was looking at Dream Market, one of the largest data dump markets on the Dark Web. It had only been running for a little over a year and was only accessible with anonymity software, but it was the place to go if you wanted data … or drugs. **

He had used Tor to access Dream Market. Tor was an acronym derived from The Onion Project, which used onion routers to effectively encrypt user traffic that passed IP addresses through a complex of Tor nodes. Those “onion layers” protected any user's anonymity by providing access to similarly protected websites, thus a virtual, back-alley marketplace was born. **

“You dumped Precision Machining’s data. You—you put it up for sale.”

“Only the board members’ data.”

“Why? Why?!” I asked as I bent over the keyboard, too far out of my skillset to even know how to start retrieving the stolen information.

“This can all go away, sweetheart.”

I froze at the switched intonation which meant I was now dealing with Mr. Robot. I stepped back and looked over at him, Elliot’s entire demeanor changed from focused on the hack and disconnected in his interaction with me, to disconnected from the hack and very, very focused on me.

“This can all go away if I leave Elliot alone.”

“Elliot does like a girl with a brain,” Mr. Robot said as he put his hands on top of his head and leaned back in my dad’s chair.

“What happened to … the other one? The hacker?”

Mr. Robot laughed as he leaned farther back in the chair, confident in his knowledge that he had total control of this situation.

“I’m the only one Elliot really needs. Problem was he lost sight of our plan, thanks to you.”

“Plan?”

Mr. Robot leaned forward, shifting his feet before he stood up, slowly. His movements were more relaxed, more confident than Elliot’s; the way he walked with purpose and the fact that he never dropped his gaze made me understand why he was Elliot’s protector.  

“Elliot needs to keep busy. It’s good for him. And the shit you had him doing at his cushy Wall Street job wasn’t cutting it. Not to mention all the lovey-dovey crap—'let’s talk about our feeelings’ all the fucking time. Jesus Christ.

“It was only a matter of time before he needed a … a challenge. You see, sometimes he dreams about saving the world. Saving everyone from an invisible hand, one that brands them with an employee badge. One that forces them to work for people like your old man. People who control us every day without us knowing it. Except that Elliot does know it because I never let him forget it.”*

I listened, unsurprised by Mr. Robot’s words. I knew Elliot thought about those things. I knew he struggled to reconcile being normal with being complacent. But I also knew now that Elliot was angry about something that had nothing to do with the injustices of the world, something that Mr. Robot was working his ass off to keep from him.

“That’s not what this is about and you know it. This,” I said gesturing to the screen, “is an illusion. It’s something you’ve come up with to stop him from getting too close to the secret you’ve worked so hard to protect. Aren’t you tired, Mr. Robot? Aren’t you tired of hurting him for the sake of protecting him? Of keeping Elliot from a truth he needs to know in order to move on—”

“There is no moving on because there is no hard reset that can be done if Elliot remembers!” Mr. Robot growled as he stepped toward me, his face inches from mine.

I stumbled back, my hip bumping against the desk.

“If he remembers, if he learns the truth, it will break him.”

I will never forget the way Mr. Robot’s eyes, the same yet not at all the same as Elliot’s, flashed with pain as I said, “Maybe you’re too scared he won’t need you anymore if he learns the truth. Maybe it’s you that can’t handle the possibility of it healing him instead of breaking him.”

“You know nothing about Elliot, nothing about us! You were just our playground, little girl,” Mr. Robot spat as he grabbed my arm and twisted me toward the computer screen. He grabbed a handful of my hair and pushed my head close to the monitor.

“Everything a hacker would need to take down the company your father built is right there, waiting for the highest bidder,” he said with a final shove of my head before he let me go.  

I held myself up with shaky arms, tears stinging at my eyes as I realized this was his ultimatum. There was no reasoning with Mr. Robot because he only had one source of hunger; he desired nothing other than to protect Elliot, even if that meant sacrificing the thing that had made him the happiest he had been in his adult life.

I finally accepted that I didn’t have the strength to fight Mr. Robot. If he was already able to use the only other part of Elliot I got close to against me, it was two against one. It would tear Elliot apart to keep him—if I fought for him, I would be the one breaking him.

“If—” my voice faltered, choked by the sob of despair that had built within me as I realized what I had to do.

“If I swear to—to delete Elliot from my life, will you give him back control? Will you take back the hack?”

Before Mr. Robot could answer, the sound of sirens infiltrated my dad’s office. My head whipped toward the door and I could see lights flashing through the house as the police pulled into the driveway.

“You called the police?” Mr. Robot asked, panic evident in his normally confident tone.

He moved to the office door and peered out into the house, the sound of footsteps pounding across the porch causing his mouth to drop open as he drew in deeper breaths.

I shook my head.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Well someone sure as fuck did!”

“Maybe my dad heard me leave. Maybe—”

“Maybe I don’t give a fuck! Now listen to me,” Mr. Robot said, his teeth bared as he walked back to stand in front of me. “If I go to jail, Elliot goes to jail. Is that what you want?”

“No.”

“Get him out of this and I’ll make sure the hack is reversed.”

“THIS IS THE POLICE! Y/N Y/L/N, IF YOU ARE ABLE, COME TO THE DOOR.”

“How am I supposed to help him if you won’t let me see him again?”

“Do you really want me to bring him back now? Into this mess?!”

“Y/N Y/L/N! ARE YOU IN DANGER? IF YOU DO NOT RESPOND IN 30 SECONDS, WE WILL BREAK DOWN THE DOOR.”

“Promise I’ll see him again? Please.”

“You don’t have the power to bargain!”

“Let me at least say goodbye and I’ll make sure he stays out of jail. Money talks, in case you’re too high on your fucking horse to remember that!”

Mr. Robot’s eyes bore into mine as he decided whether to trust me or to take his luck with the penal system.

I pressed, “And you still have to reverse the hack—I can’t help Elliot stay out of jail if that data gets sold.”

The front door splintered and my foot jumped to the powerstrip under my dad’s desk. I paused near the button, waiting for Mr. Robot’s answer before plunging us into darkness.

“Fine—I undo the hack, you get to say goodbye, then you stay the fuck out of his life. Or else we do this alllll over again, princess.”

I nodded my agreement to his terms.

Mr. Robot jumped back from the doorway as a crunch of noise indicated the front door had been flung open.

A rush of movement flooded into the house.

“Put your hands on your head and don’t move!” I ordered as I kicked off the powerstrip under dad’s desk before rushing out of the office, my hands on my head as I stood in front of the door.

“He’s unarmed! He’s not a threat! He’s not a threat!” I repeated as an officer moved toward me and pulled me away from the office door, ushering me outside to safety.

The other two policemen entered Dad’s office and instructed Mr. Robot to get down on his knees.

As soon as my feet touched the sidewalk, I saw my dad pull in behind one of the cruisers. He leapt out of the car, not even bothering to cut the ignition.

I was bubbling with anger as I shook off the policeman’s grasp and crossed the lawn.

“How could you?!” I yelled before my mouth went dry and I felt a churning in my gut. As I was forced to quell my anger or end up being sick on our front lawn, I looked at my dad’s face; it was so filled with worry that for the first time in my life, he looked every bit his age.

He never stopped moving toward me and grabbed me in a fierce hug when he finally reached me. He tried to shield me from watching who he knew as Elliot being escorted into the police cruiser, but I pushed out of his grasp, needing to know that Mr. Robot hadn’t abandoned the person we both loved at a time when he really did need his protector.

There was nothing in his demeanor that signaled a return to Elliot as Mr. Robot calmly slid into the backseat of the cruiser, his hands cuffed, his face a stoical mask.

“You need to tell the police why he broke into our home, Y/N,” my dad said from somewhere behind me.

“Absolutely not.”

“I love you, Y/N, but you are not thinking clearly!” my dad reprimanded, uncharacteristically raising his voice.

“Of course I am!”

“It’s been him all along. All the hacks—I know it has.”

“That wasn’t him—not entirely.”

“What? Like a hacking ring?”

I laughed, a crazy tittering that felt so out of place on our pristine lawn in front of our huge house. My father had no idea how right he was.

I turned to him to explain, “The person who broke in tonight wasn’t the Elliot you’ve met. He has Dissociative Identity Disorder but he doesn’t know he has it. It’s complicated.”

My father’s face didn’t lose its sternness as he considered what I just told him.

“I know you love him, sweetheart, but—”

“He needs help, Dad,” I begged. “He needs us to be the family he doesn’t have.”  

As an officer approached and began asking a series of questions, my mind wondered back to all the quiet dreams I had about a future with Elliot, many of those dreams beginning in this house over the Fourth of July. Now, I felt like my whole world had gone grey; there was no bright goodness to be found in white, no rift of black to clearly signal evil, and no limitless possibilities held within all the bright colors between. Everything was just … grey.

“At this time, are you aware of any reason the subject in custody may have broken into your home?”

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at my father.

“… No. No, officer. I am not.”

I leaned into him, welcoming his strong arm as it wrapped protectively around my shoulders.  

* * * * *

A few hours later, our family lawyer, Thea, met us at the Greenwich Police Department. My dad filled her in as we sat in the waiting area, but I could tell by the frown on her face that Elliot’s case had the potential to be difficult.

“Connecticut has pretty strict laws on burglary—”

“He wasn’t stealing.”

Thea knew better than to ask anything else.

“It’s very helpful you aren’t filing additional charges. If I can swing it, I’d like to get the burglary charge changed to trespassing, then plead out at arraignment. That’s only if I can’t get it dismissed.”

I took a deep breath and spoke slowly, scared that somehow Mr. Robot would hear me.

“The charge can’t be dismissed because Elliot needs court-mandated therapy. He … he won’t go otherwise.”

“Does he have a documented mental illness?”

“Not documented, no. I was thinking … what if you could get him ordered to therapy for anger management?”

“Did he destroy any property at the house?”

“What if he intended to, but was interrupted? There’s … the possibility of establishing a pattern of behavior.”

Thea thought for a moment, then put her hand up when she saw me open my mouth again.

“I don’t want to know anything else until I talk to Mr. Alderson. Based on the police report and your cooperation, I have enough now to try to downgrade to a trespassing charge. We aren’t in the city, so I don’t know anything about the judge on the docket. I’m going to make a few calls and see if I can find anything out.

“Elliot should be out of booking by now and in a holding room.”  

“Can I see him?”

“Not until I do.”

“Charles Y/L/N?” interrupted a policeman who introduced himself as Captain Neiley. “The Chief told me to make sure you had anything you needed—Tony gave him a call early this morning.”

“Thank you,” Dad replied earnestly, shaking the Captain’s hand.

Because of my father’s connections, I soon found myself peering into a small, concrete room from behind the glass of a very small window, much smaller than the ones on television, as Elliot, or rather Mr. Robot, interacted with Thea.

I could tell it was not going well by the twist of Thea’s mouth and by the way Mr. Robot refused to look in her direction, much less sit down and talk to her. He was distrustful, and clearly, angry.

I looked around for an officer and when I found one, I asked her if she could get my attorney out. She nodded and unlocked the door, signaling for Thea.

“You shouldn’t be here right now, Y/N.”

“He’ll talk, but not to you … not yet. I need to tell him it’s safe.”

Thea sighed and bowed her head. She shrugged her shoulders as she looked back up and answered, “Go ahead. But anything he says to you is not going to help—he needs to talk to me.”

The officer opened the door again and when I walked into the room, I saw that Mr. Robot had finally sat down. As he looked at me, a war started to take place behind his eyes. He was silent for a long, long time and I just stood by the door with my back pressed against it, waiting to see if Mr. Robot would let go.

Finally, I saw it—the same subtle fluttering of his eyes as the night in my apartment.

“Y/N?” Elliot asked, both his voice and his eyes raw with vulnerability.

“Elliot,” I stated, unable to hold back my tears at finally seeing him again.  

“I’m here to help, El,” I choked out, “but you—all of you--have to let me help you.”

Elliot’s eyes filled with pools of tears before he shifted, his gaze on the steel of the table and his hands cradling his head.

“I can’t remember … only fragments and—” he looked up suddenly, his face turning to stare into the empty corner of the room where Mr. Robot had been standing before he sat down.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

Elliot’s head whipped back in my direction, his eyes widening, his mouth falling open in horror.

“I know about Mr. Robot. It’s okay, Elliot. I’ve met him.”

“No—nobody knows about him.”

“He protects you.”

“Can you see him, too?”

“No, El. I can’t. I just know … it’s hard to explain, but I know you sometimes see him. It’s rare, but sometimes that’s just what happens with people like you.”

“In my mind,” Elliot groaned. “He’s only supposed to be in my mind.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry things have gotten this bad.”

“Oh god,” he moaned, his hands pulling hard at his hair as he rocked back in his seat. “I’m crazy—I’m a fucking schizo and you’re committing me.”  

“Tell him what happened tonight,” I said, my eyes flicking to the corner to indicate I wanted Mr. Robot to talk to Elliot.

Elliot looked to the corner again. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the room was silent. Whatever happened between Elliot and Mr. Robot did, indeed, only happen in his mind.

As I waited, I thought back to my research on DID, and I knew Elliot was in an extremely vulnerable state. I also knew what it meant to have his alters interact with me—I needed to be very careful not to break Mr. Robot’s trust since we had made a deal.

After a few minutes passed, Elliot sprang out of his chair and leapt toward the wall, his fist slamming into the concrete with a sick thud.

Elliot left his fist against the wall and leaned into it, tears streaming down his face as he broke down.

I rushed to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, molding my body to his and pressing into his back.

“It’s okay, Elliot. It’s okay. I’m here,” I soothed, my own tears flowing in a fresh wave because of his pain.

His hand fell away from the wall and he brought it to rest over my arms.  

I pulled him away from the wall and turned him to face me, his legs buckling and both of us sliding to the floor. I pulled him to me, so much like that night in my closet during the Fourth of July.

“I’m here. I’m here, Elliot. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry,” he said, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into my neck, his tears wet and smearing into my skin.

“He didn’t give me a choice—I had to do the ha—”

“You can’t talk about any of that right now. Not until you talk to the lawyer.”

“I hurt you—your father, your family,” Elliot said, his voice a dull rasp as he finally looked up at me, his cheeks a wet mess. I shifted to my knees so I could cradle his face in my hands; I wiped at his tears, careful to avoid the bruise on his cheek that had changed from red to an ugly burgundy, smoothed his brows, and swiped at his nose with the sleeve of my sweater.

As I touched him, he hiccupped, his breath evening out as he pulled himself together.

I kissed his forehead, then the tip of his nose.

“Listen,” I said, holding his face in my hands and pushing his chin up with my thumbs. “I need you to talk to Thea, our lawyer. She’s going to help us.”

“Us,” Elliot whispered, a single tear falling from the corner of his eye and sliding down the side of my thumb.

“For now, but Mr. Robot wants me to let you go.”

Elliot frowned and leaned back, his head resting on the wall as I let my hands fall away from his face. A part of him clearly still hoped I could be in this with him, but we both knew I couldn’t be.

“I’m so tired of fighting him, Y/N. He’s … persistent.”

“Yeah. So I noticed,” I said with a quick upturn of my lips, watching as Elliot’s eyes continued to look at the ceiling.

“You need to be the one to talk to Thea. Mr. Robot needs to let you stay in control. Will you, and I mean YOU, I said waving in the direction of Mr. Robot but keeping my eyes trained on Elliot’s face, stay buried so he can get out of this mess?”  

Elliot looked over and up at Mr. Robot with a ferocity I hadn’t seen before.

His eyes returned to mine and he nodded.

“There’s something else.”

Elliot’s brows contracted as he looked at my face.

I moved close to him, slowly wrapping my arms around his neck in a hug. I turned toward his ear, whispering, “The data dump on the Dark Web—can you make it disappear?”

Elliot pulled me into the hug, his mouth nestling in next to my ear as he reached up to grasp my hair, burying his face in it.

“I built a security during the hack. If a password wasn’t entered every 45 minutes, the data would disappear from the Market. It’s gone now.”

I squeezed him and he tightened his grip as he inhaled, trying to lose himself in the scent of me.  

“Just like that night I needed to find you. Coney Island. You left your computer logged on.”

“Yes,” he answered, his confirmation a low, comforting rumble.  

“Can you—will you stay with me until this is all over?”

“Thea has to talk to you alone, but I’ll be right outside. I’ll go every step of the way that I can with you—as long as Mr. Robot lets me.”

Elliot swallowed thickly, and I pulled away from him. We looked into each other’s eyes until the door opened, then he cast his gaze to the floor.

“Ready to talk, Mr. Alderson?”

* * * * *

Over an hour later, I almost jumped out of my skin when Thea finally emerged from the holding room.

Dad had insisted I eat something, but since I refused to leave, he ran out and got breakfast. I ate enough to make him satisfied, but just as I rounded the corner to throw away our trash, I heard the door open.

I rushed back and caught the door, needing to see Elliot again.

“You’re right, Y/N,” Thea said quietly. “Elliot doesn’t belong in prison, but he needs, at a minimum, a few months of court-mandated therapy. He … destroyed some servers at CIStech?”

My dad frowned, remembering the incident that brought Elliot and I together.

“It was never a romantic story to begin with, Dad,” I said as I rolled my eyes.

I turned my attention back to Thea and asked what that had to do with anything.

“You took care of that one, huh?”

“I did.”

Thea looked at me for a long moment, then began, “There is no way for the DA to prove that Elliot had the intent of committing a criminal act while on your property unless you or your dad have something—”

“We don’t.”

My father shook his head no, and Thea’s mouth quirked up at the corner, “Of course not.”

“How long will this take?”

“I’m taking my offer to the DA now. If they agree to it, the judge may rule at arraignment and this whole thing could be over today.”

“Thank you, Thea. Can I say goodbye?”

“Be quick because Elliot is going to be moved to a holding room outside of the court, soon. I’ll see you over there.”

“Thank you,” I said again before pulling the door open.

Before the door even shut, Elliot stood and began pacing, his voice raspy with overuse as he started talking.

“I have to give you up. He’s not going to leave me alone until I do. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything I did. I’m sorry for letting him do this to you. I’m sorry—"

“Elliot, slow down,” I said as I crossed the room and intercepted his pacing. He stopped with a start in front of me and stuffed his hands in his hoodie’s pockets.

I reached out and lightly squeezed his shoulders, moving my hands down his biceps, and over his forearms. I felt him relax under my repetitive touches, and when it was clear he wasn’t about to climb the wall, I stepped closer and slid my hands into his hoodie’s pockets.

“How’s your hand?” I asked, feeling the swollen knuckles of his right hand in comparison to the unaffected left.

“That’s how this whole thing started,” Elliot said, pulling both of our hands out of his pockets. His shook as he held onto mine. “You took such good care of me.”

“I kept you prisoner in my apartment.”

“And here we are now,” Elliot said with a small smile.

My heart ached at how easy this was with him … how easy it was when it was just him.

“I hate this,” Elliot said in agony as he searched my face, surely sensing that I was on the verge of falling apart again.

I looked into his big grey eyes and let myself get lost, swept back into the love I felt for him, knowing this could be the last time I ever saw him.

“I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry for whatever happened that made you need Mr. Robot. You need to figure out what’s at the root of all of this, why you keep forgetting, and I’m not the one who can do that for you. But you know what? I am going to make sure you have a real chance at getting professional help.”

“I know,” Elliot said, lowering his eyes but still holding on to my hands.

“Know what else? I love you.”

Elliot’s eyes snapped back up to mine, and again, I saw a fierce determination unlike anything I’d ever seen in his eyes before.

“I’m gonna be happy with you someday, Y/N. I’m gonna love you like you love me.”

I held his gaze as I shook off the grip of his hands to reach up and cradle his face.

“You have to love yourself first, Elliot. Mr. Robot is never going to let go of his control as long as you need him to…meet whatever need it is you need met.”

“I’m never going to forget you loved me first—never.”

As if all the pieces of my heart weren’t already broken, I knew that wasn’t true. Mr. Robot was going to delete me. Elliot was never going to remember that someone loved him first. All I could hope for was that Mr. Robot was listening right now, a part of him feeling compassionate enough to allow Elliot to one day restore a previous version of himself, this version.

“Will you wait for me? I know I don’t have a right to ask, but have I earned the right to hope that you will?”

Before I could answer him, an officer opened the door and said it was time to move to the courthouse.

I melted into Elliot’s arms, and he hugged me. I felt determination radiate from him.

He’s so much stronger than Mr. Robot thinks.

I pulled back, knowing the officer was waiting, and I reached up to cup his face one more time. I memorized his face until my eyes filled with tears and he became a blur. I blinked away those tears and I tried to absorb the love that so clearly emanated from his beautiful eyes.

I leaned in to kiss Elliot, and he pressed his entire body into mine, molding his lips against mine as if our mouths had been designed from conception just to connect like this in this single moment.

I knew he could taste the salt of my tears as I broke the kiss and managed to look at him one last time before my vision blurred again and I rushed out the door. I only just made it to the bathroom in time to throw up everything I ate, and as I knelt on the worn, green and white bathroom floor, surrounded by the smell of bleach that tried its best to cover up the stench of urine and failed, my grief finally pulled me under and I let myself drown. Then, for the second time in less than a week, I felt my father’s arms tighten around me as I fell apart.

—Narrator—

November 2014

Mr. Robot whispered to Elliot as he worked, reassuring him this was for the best. Seeing Darlene on Halloween for the first time in over five months reopened a chasm of loneliness Elliot hadn’t felt since—

“You’re really fucking this up, kiddo,” Mr. Robot said from where he was leaning against the wall. “This is what happens when you don’t stick to the plan. You’ve got to get that job at Allsafe with Angela.”

“I know. For fuck’s sake, I know,” Elliot growled as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

His hand reached to click the mouse as he dragged all of the pictures on his phone onto the CD sitting in his drive.

“No, son,” Mr. Robot said as Elliot popped the disk out of the drive. “You’re not done yet.”

Elliot looked at him, his brows drawn in confusion.

“Why can’t you just tell me why we have to keep doing this?”

“You’re not ready to know, Elliot. You created me to be your protector; you have to trust me to do what’s best to keep you safe. So … be a part of this, or I can do it myself. Either way, everything, except Angela, has got to go.”

As Elliot pushed the CD that would hold all of his memories back into the drive, Master Mind watched.

And more importantly, Master Mind waited.

He knew he had one chance at this, exactly one chance to take control and to fix everything Mr. Robot had done. He had one chance to make the world a place where Elliot could finally be happy without condition. He had one chance to restore Elliot’s previous version, effectively recovering all the data Mr. Robot had been deleting over the past few months.

“Alright, kiddo,” Mr. Robot said as Elliot tucked the unlabeled CD into the otherwise empty black binder and tossed it to the floor, kicking it under his bookshelf. “It’s time.

Elliot took a deep breath as he prepared to relinquish control to Mr. Robot, trusting in his protector, but just before Mr. Robot could take over, Master Mind seized his chance.

Elliot’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening, but it was too late; as Master Mind took complete control for the first time, Elliot slipped into a black void.

* * * * *

Elliot Alderson sat in the waiting room of the third cybersecurity firm he had interviewed with. This one, though, seemed different. He liked that it didn’t hide who it was.

“CIStech: Always Vigilant” read the sign on the glass door he had pushed open only a few minutes ago.

Yes, Elliot decided he definitely liked this company, so far. Being vigilant was smart. Too many people were happy to live without awareness, happy to live in their bubbles of the naïve just so they could feel good until someone told them what else they neededto have to keep feeling good.*

Elliot cleared his throat as he heard his name announced over the intercom at the secretary’s desk.

“Jayne? Bring in Mr. Alderson, please.”

He was drawn to that voice on the intercom. He liked it—confident, but kind.

Elliot shifted in his seat, ready to stand.

He took a deep breath as he followed the secretary into what was clearly meant to be a friendly, comfortable atmosphere. Instead of a large panel of interviewers, it was just three people. Instead of interviewing in a board room, it was in an office with a round table.

Like equals, Elliot thought. Except they’ve got the power to decide what happens next in my life.

“Mr. Alderson,” a man began, extending his hand. “I’m Colin Greene, Supervisor.

Fuck. They’re hand-shakers.

Elliot followed protocol, reminding himself that his was how to play the game. He shook the second Supervisor’s hand, and then—

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, Senior Manager.”

Elliot stared at Y/N, finally remembering that she was waiting for him to shake her hand, but Elliot felt afraid to touch her.

What if I touch her and she disappears? Like some kind of dream?

Elliot almost laughed out loud at that thought, but something pulsed inside of him, something that made him long to touch this stranger who seemed so familiar to him, who seemed like someone so much more important than a Supervisor at a mediocre cybersecurity firm.

A surge of excitement coursed through Elliot as he extended his hand, not knowing what was going to happen next. As his eyes locked onto the stranger’s, he watched as a sweet smile pulled at her lips, a smile that made him feel safe.

And for a reason he couldn’t explain, made him feel loved.

GIF Credit: @s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r

A/N 2.0: Thank you, thank you, thank you for going on this journey with me. Your comments, likes, and reblogs kept me moving along even when I wanted nothing more than to throw my computer out of the window and give up. I put a lot into this story, and it is the longest thing I’ve ever written. I would love to know how you felt about the story or if you have anything you want to ask/discuss, so hit me up with a comment or an ask.

I love Elliot, and I am so glad you do, too. Thank you for indulging me, as always. -xMx ❤️

Tags: @sherlollydramoine​ @rami-malek-trash​ @teamwolf2411 @limabein​ @txmel​ @alottanothing​ @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging​ @moon-stars-soul​ @free-rami @ramimedley​ @hopplessdreamer​ @sweet-charmie @polarcrystall​ @hah0106​ @clumsybookworm18​ @diasimar​ @ramisgirl512​ @aboutthatmelancholystorm​

And a special thank you tag to my cheerleader who gives me the best comments with so many pterodactyl screeches that my heart soars every time I read them. Thank you @alottanothing​! 

A/N 3.0: All of my research on DID indicates that while there are many commonalities, every system is pretty unique. For example, while many folks who have DID may have a “protector” figure, their protector will function uniquely for the needs of their system. The way I treated DID in this particular fic is a combination of my informal research and just taking what Sam Esmail gave us and working within his parameters. It’s actually super uncommon for alters to manifest and be “seen,” but I stuck with that idea because it was Sam’s and was so integral to the show. I am a singleton, so I am not an expert, nor do I claim to be an authority of any kind when it comes to the incredible complexities of being a system. 

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