#i am so Weak for that. like imagine the drafts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

0nerd-at-heart0 · 3 months

Text

The Stress of a Case

Harvey Specter x Female Reader

Please Read: Hello! It's been a hot minute since I have published anything. Have been currently studying for my LSATS and have been a busy bee but after being obsessed with Suits for the past 2 years and waiting for more Harvey stories to be published I decided to create my own little storyline. What started off as a storyline in my head is now on paper. I have this idea to create a mini-story/universe: how the reader got hired, when she first met Mike, her first case with Harvey, her first date with Harvey, etc. I guess I just want to see if people are interested. It's been a while since I had written anything that wasn't an academic paper and my writing skills have changed drastically. This is one of the first the fics of the universe I am building in my head that I have written so I decided to publish this. I hope yall enjoy it, please give feedback.

Warnings: Talks about not eating (due to stress), food mention, panic attack details, fainting, Harvey being an ass, cursing I think? if I am missing anything please let me know

Word count: 5.6k

Taglist: @happy74827 @princessvader15 @hashcakes @yiiiikesmish @malfoys-demigod

I tagged those who commented under my last post I hope that's okay and if you aren't interested in being tagged let me know and I will remove you sorry.

As you entered the corridors of Pearson Hardman, they were alive with the usual buzz of legal minds at work, but this time, a distinct tension hung in the air. You didn't even get a few steps into the associates area before hearing the straining voice of Louis Litt yelling that there was an emergency meeting.

You scrambled behind, stuffing your mouth with the banana nut muffin you thought you would eat peacefully at your desk this morning. You knew what this meeting was about, everyone knew. The case against Amir Jackson, the firm's ex-lawyer turned adversary, had everyone on edge.

The briefing room was filled with hushed whispers as everyone settled in, and even the confident strides of Harvey Specter and Louis Litt carried a subtle weight.

Harvey, impeccably dressed as always, stood at the head of the conference table, his piercing gaze flickering between Jessica Pearson and the gathered associates, and maybe it was your imagination but it might have lingered a little longer on you. Snapped out of your imagination when he spoke, "Listen up, people. This case is different. Amir Jackson knows us inside out, and he won't hesitate to use that knowledge against us. He's playing dirty, and we need to be ready for anything."

You never got to meet Amir Jackson, but oh the stories. The firm had no problem doing what they needed to do to be successful, but there was a line they never dared cross and Amir crossed it.

Jessica leaned forward, her hands planted firmly on the table. "Amir's betrayal when he left this firm was bad enough. Now, he's trying to take a piece of us with him. We can't let that happen."

Louis chimed in. "I've seen my fair share of dirty plays, but this guy is in a league of his own. We need to be one step ahead, or he'll bury us."

The gravity of the situation was sinking in, associates exchanged knowing glances. They understood the magnitude of the challenge ahead. Amir Jackson wasn't just a legal opponent; he was a former comrade who knew their strengths and weaknesses intimately. The fact that there was a meeting needing to be held just told how much this case was about to get tricky. Usually the inner circle dealt with these cases: Harvey, Louis, Jessica, Mike and maybe sometimes Rachel.

Your role as the go-to person for legal paperwork kept you in the thick of it. While Harvey Specter had his famed right-hand man in Mike Ross, he knew he could rely on you for drafting contracts with a precision that went beyond mere proficiency.

You might not have been Harvey's drinking buddy or his confidant like Mike, but there was a unique dynamic between you both. It was a quiet understanding that transcended the formalities of the workplace. You knew you would never be his protege, and that was perfectly fine with you. What you brought to the table was a specialized skill set that complemented Harvey's legal prowess, if you do say so yourself.

His voice thundered through the briefing room as he adjusted his cuffs, “I am building a specific legal team to help bring down Amir Jackson”.

Of coure Harvey was going to pick Mike Ross, Mike was worth more than 8 associates. How much more help does he need? Who else could he need? Harvey's eyes scanned the room filled with associates. His gaze settled on you, and he flashed a sly grin. "You, Y/N. You're on my team for this one.”

Harvey and you had worked together various times. He always knew he could count on you for legal paperwork. As much as he depended on Mike Ross, there was one thing you were that Mike wasn’t and that was that you had a talent when it came to drafting contracts. But I believe that there was some respect, one might even say in a blossoming friendship between you and him. You got a spark of it when he teasingly picked you out of the bunch of associates to be part of his team for his takedown of Amir Jackson.

“You know, Y/N, if paperwork were an Olympic sport, you'd be a gold medalist," Harvey remarked with a wry grin, “And I expect you to bring the gold home for Pearson Hardman”

“I won’t let you down Sir”, you gave a weak smile as all eyes were on you.

You hated the attention, yet you couldn’t help the small heat you felt on our cheeks as Harvey stared at you. Drawn to playing with the bracelet you wore as you slightly cringed at yourself for the words that came out of your mouth. Sir? Really. Stupid, you thought.

Harvey moved past it and called out the name of 2 more associates and asked if anyone else wanted in on the case had to draw up a proposal. He only wanted the best of the best and trust him, he would get the best of the best.

You made your way to Harvey’s office as the meeting was dismissed. And you reminisce on the first time Harvey complimented on your legal work.

“ Are you a sorcerer”, Harvey asked as he made his way to your cubicle. It was late one night and you were stuck on an email. You had this need to overachieve and be perfect and it showed in everything you did. But if you were being honest it was exhausting.

You glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Well, Harvey, someone has to make sure the i's are dotted and the t's are crossed. Can't let you walk into a negotiation with a misplaced comma, now can we?"

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Maybe it's the lack of sleep or the fact that you had 4 coffees. But the confidence was there and to your surprise, Harvey chuckled.

You swear you saw a twinkle in his eye as he responded, "You're practically the Mozart of legal documents. I half expect those contracts to start singing a symphony when I open them."

You smirked, setting aside the email you were currently writing, swiveling your chair to face him, "If you want a soundtrack to your legal victories, Harvey, I'm sure I can find a way to make that happen."

He tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Now that's the kind of innovation I like to see. Who needs background music at a negotiation? Just cue in Y/N legal masterpiece."

You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the idea. "I'll be sure to add it to the list of services I provide, Harvey. Background music, legal counsel, and a dash of flair."

Harvey straightened up, his signature confidence in full force. "Flair is your middle name, isn't it? The 'Legal Maestro with a Touch of Flair.' Has a nice ring to it."

You rolled your eyes, feigning exasperation. "I'll have to update my business cards. But let's be honest, Harvey, you appreciate the flair. It's what sets my paperwork apart from the rest."

Harvey smirked, leaning in. "You're not wrong. But don't let it get to your head. I can't have you drafting contracts with a crown on, declaring yourself the Queen of Legal Documents." He turned to leave right after and you could have sworn you were asleep and that any moment now you would wake up from this dream.

You yelled out, “Don't worry, Harvey. I'll keep the royal proclamations to a minimum. Wouldn't want to overshadow your crown as the King of Closing Deals." And you could have sworn he let out a hearty laugh from down the hall.

“Y/N, nice of you to join us”, Harvey said. Jessica and Mike were already in the room as the other associates were already screaming. They had been given their assignments and were off to work.

“What can I do”, you spoke above a whisper, feeling small as the eyes were all on you. Jessica knew your history, she knew you struggled to be the shark of a lawyer you could be. But she hired you anyway, your interview with her wasn't the best. But she saw something in you, something that reminded her of herself when she was starting off. She was gonna build and mold you to a shark. But for now she let you be. A shark wasn’t born overnight.

“ I need one of your flawless contracts for Amir. I need no loopholes. Nothing he can use against us”, Harvey spoke in a harsher tone then he meant.

All you could do was nod your head and swiftly leave the room to do the research needed. Leaving Mike, Harvey and Jessica to chatter. As you walked down the corridor you saw Louis making his way to Harvey’s office with Rachel in tow. All hands on deck indeed, you thought to yourself.

The first night working on that draft through the dim glow of the late-night office lights illuminated your determined face. The rhythmic tapping of the keyboard was accompanied by the occasional crunch of Hot Cheetos.

Proud of your work, you compiled the neatly typed pages and confidently walked over to Harvey Specter's desk. As you placed the document in the designated spot, you felt relief wash over you. It’s currently 2:00 am, no one is here but you but you really wanted to prove your worth.

With only 5 hours asleep, the next day, you walked into the office, a little pep in your step. You made yourself some crappy coffee. And were about to head into the bullpen.

Harvey, engrossed in his own work the minute he stepped into the office, took a moment to glance at the papers. His stern expression, usually unreadable, twisted into a scowl as he noticed a small Hot Cheeto stain near the corner of the document. And called you down to his office. Your pep was gone once you heard his tone of voice as he called your name. Turning on your heel you headed towards his office. Donna was expecting you and let you by. One foot through the door is as far as you got before Harvey had something to say.

"Do you see this?" Harvey's voice was sharp pointing at the small stain.

Panicking slightly, you stammered, "I'm sorry, Harvey. I must have missed that." It was an easy fix, just print another copy, you thought to yourself making a mental note.

Harvey's gaze shifted from the stain to the content of the contract. He began circling errors with a red pen, his frustration apparent. "And these mistakes? This is what you place on my desk and yet it isn't up to my expectations”.

As he pointed out the errors, your pride in their work crumbled. The Hot Cheeto stain seemed to just make Harvey go on a power trip.. Each correction felt like a blow,"I expect better from you," Harvey remarked, his tone cold and unforgiving.

You nodded, unable to muster a response. Maybe the growing friendship you thought of was truly in your head. As Harvey returned to his own work, you retreated to their desk, determined to rectify the mistakes.

You admit your first draft wasn't the best. And you shouldn't have eaten near the paperwork. You were currently starving as you finished up the last paragraph. It’s been 6 hours since Harvey scolded you but this draft was perfect. And after you turned it in you were going to treat yourself to a nice dinner. Probably the Mexican place down the road. You were zoned in for the past 6 hours. This was the only case you were working on and it needs all your attention. But your attention was quickly zoned into the associate that was stumbling through the door.

Mike comes waltzing in, barely having any balance. You and Mike haven't really talked much. But he didn't look well.

“ Hey, Mike. You okay?" you asked, concerned in your voice.

Mike attempted a nonchalant smile, but the wavering balance gave away his inebriated state. "Yeah, just...you know, a little tired."

Observing Mike closely, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story. "Are you sure about that?"

Mike hesitated before confessing, "Okay, fine. Maybe a bit more than tired. Harvey and I went to meet someone about the Amir Jackson case, and things got a bit...out of hand with the drinks"

Your concern shifted to a mix of annoyance and frustration. While you had been tirelessly working on the second version of the contract, Harvey and Mike were out getting drunk. "Seriously, Mike? We have a case to win, and you two are out here partying?"

Mike scratched his head, a sheepish grin on his face. "We thought it was a good idea at the time. Maybe it was a bit impulsive."

Determined to express their frustration, you headed towards Harvey's office, the door slightly opened,. Knocking lightly, you entered and handed Harvey the second draft of the contract. The faster you gave it to him the faster you could leave.

"Here's the updated version, Harvey," you said, trying to mask your annoyance. After all, he is still the boss.

You sped walked out of there and back to your cubicle. Mike was there still, with his head on his desk.

“Go ask Donna for some pain killers, you still have a long night ahead of you”, you told him.

Mike just nodded and stumbled as he stood up to go to Donna. You were packing your bags, ready to call it an early night. When your computer dinged. You sat down to respond to an email quickly when you felt the tension of the bullpen change drastically.

“What is this, Y/N ?" Harvey's tone was sharp, his blue eyes piercing into mine.

You frowned, confused by the unexpected hostility. "It's the contract you asked for, Harvey. I double-checked everything, and it's all in order."

He scoffed, he took out a red marker from his pocket and started circling stuff with his red marker again, "This is subpar, even for an associate. I don't have time for amateur hour."

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach, a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Harvey, I don't understand. I followed the protocol, and the contract is flawless. What's the issue?"

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, cutting tone. "Flawless? If this is your definition of flawless, we're in trouble. I need precision, not this half-baked attempt at legal work."

The comments were like a punch to the gut. Harvey's relentless standards were known, but this seemed different. You couldn't fathom what had triggered such a harsh reaction. Was he too tipsy? Doubt crept into your mind, questioning your abilities despite knowing that the document was, by all standards, impeccable.

As you scrambled to gather my thoughts, Harvey continued. "If you can't handle the basics, I don't know why I bother keeping you around. Maybe it's time for a reality check, Y/N."

His words hung in the air, a heavy weight on my shoulders. The bullpen fell silent, and your colleagues exchanged uneasy glances. You knew how people judged women for being emotional in the workplace but you could not help the tears welling in your eyes.

Harvey turned on his heel and walked away without a second glance, leaving you with a sinking feeling of inadequacy. You stared at the perfectly crafted document, now dismissed and devalued by Harvey's cutting words. It was a moment of doubt, a crack in the confidence you had built in your work. Goodbye nice dinner, you thought to yourself as we sat at your cubicle, back to square one.

It's been about a week since Harvey yelled at you. You couldn't sleep, you couldn't eat. Doubt was eating you. You were always proud of your writing skills, that was what you were known for. This is what got you hired at Pearson Hardman. What if you weren't good enough for this job anymore? Did you speak? Your mind was racing and you were lucky enough to talk yourself down. You were currently working on your fifth version of this contract. Every draft before that had him taking out his red marker. A part of you could have sworn he was just circling things at random, but who are you to question the great Harvey Specter. It was 2:00 pm and you thought maybe you deserve a snack so you headed to the breakroom. Who do you happen to run into Mike Ross? He had no faults but just happened to be the unwitting recipient of your frustration.

You stormed up to Mike barely containing the anger that had been building for weeks. "Mike, we need to talk," I blurted out, not bothering to hide the frustration in my voice.

Mike looked up from his sandwich, surprised by the intensity of my tone. "Sure, Y/N, what's going on?"

You took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "It's just... Do you ever feel like you're stuck in someone's shadow? Like no matter how hard you work, you're always one step behind?"

Mike furrowed his brow, sensing the gravity of my emotions. "What happened? Is it Harvey?"

You nodded, my frustration bubbling over. "It's always Harvey. He treats you like a partner, his drinking buddy, his go-to guy for everything. Meanwhile, I'm drowning in his shadow, drowning in rewrites and unreasonable expectations."

Mike leaned back, a sympathetic expression on his face. "I get it. Harvey has his moments. But you're great at what you do. Maybe he just doesn't see it."

"That's the problem, Mike. He doesn't see it. I'm just the person who writes and rewrites, constantly trying to meet his impossible standards. Did you know I can't even eat at my desk because once there was a Hot Cheeto stain on one of the drafts, and he lost it?"

Mike's eyes widened, realizing the extent of my frustration. "That's harsh, Y/N. Look, I know I have a different dynamic with Harvey, but it doesn't mean he values you any less. Maybe you should talk to him about how you're feeling."

"It's not that easy, Mike. I'm tired of being the one in the background. I can't handle the pressure anymore." you confessed, your voice laced with a mix of anger and vulnerability.

Mike sighed, understanding the weight of your words. "I can't fix everything, but I can listen. And I am truly sorry"

“NO, NO, no I am sorry Mike, I am not mad at you or at Harvey. I guess I am mad at myself. I am just going back to work on my fifth version of this document”, you said as you felt the hunger take over. But you pushed through. You had to push through.

As you walked out of the break room, Mike became an unexpected ally. He went to his binder Harvey put together and looked for the fourth version of the contract knowing Harvey had put it all in the file to look over. The document was perfect, no one could have done it better.

Mike took in your look when you came bargaining in here. You looked awful. And what it was barely a week working on the case. Mike had heard about Harvey yelling in the bullpen but it had caused you so much disarray that Mike knew Harvey took it too far. He knew you and he didn't talk as much but Rachel adored you and he had to do the right thing and get Harvey to apologize.

Donna saw Mike striding towards Harvey’s office and knew what was coming. Donna knew Harvey was wound tight. That this case was getting the best of him and taking it out on the lovely Y/N but lord forbid she say anything. The last time she tried she nearly got her head chewed off too and Harvey right now needs to know he isn't alone in this case.

"Harvey, you're being too hard on Y/N. The contract she wrote was perfect, and every draft since then has only improved upon perfection. You can't keep circling random stuff just to make her rewrite it," Mike asserted, his tone firm as he entered Harvey’s office. The fourth version of your contract in his hand.

Harvey shot him a sharp glance. "I demand the best, and if she can't deliver, then maybe she's not cut out for this."

Mike shook his head. "It's not about delivering, Harvey. It's about you being stressed out over the case and taking it out on her. She's doing her best, and you need to acknowledge that."

Before Harvey could respond, Donna chimed in. "Mike's right, Harvey. I've seen the way you've been treating Y/N, and it's not fair. You've always had a soft spot for her, even if you won't admit it.”

Harvey raised an eyebrow. "A soft spot? Donna, you're reading too much into it."

Donna crossed her arms, "Harvey. I am Donna and I know everything. I also see everything. Harvey. Remember the time she was sick, and you made sure she had everything she needed? Or how you personally chose her for the team during the Jackson case? You compliment her skills and skip past everyone else you named for your team. You've got a soft spot for her, whether you admit it or not”

Mike nodded in agreement. "You can't deny it, Harvey. There's something about her that you can't ignore. Maybe it's time to acknowledge it and cut her some slack."

Harvey sighed, he didn't appreciate Mike and Donna ganging up on him but the fact that they were meant they maybe had a point, "Fine. Maybe I've been too hard on her. But she needs to know that mediocrity isn't acceptable."

Donna shook her head. "Harvey, there's a difference between pushing for excellence and being unnecessarily harsh. You owe Y/N an apology."

Reluctantly, Harvey nodded. "Alright. I'll talk to her. But this doesn't mean I'm going soft."

Donna smirked. "We wouldn't want that, Harvey."

Harvey made his way to find you. While Donna and Mike exchanged a knowing look. He made his way down to Rachels office, knowing that's where he will find you at these hours. He was taking the elevator and he thought about the last time both of you were in the elevator. It was the day the Amir Jackson case got handed for the first time. Harvey was on his way to meet with Amir for the first time in a long time to talk over the case, get under his skin.

The elevator doors closed, enclosing Harvey Specter and Y/N in a small, confined space. The tension from the Jackson case was already weighing heavily on Harvey, evident by the way he impatiently tugged at his perfectly knotted tie.

"Harvey, relax. You're going to strangle yourself with that tie if you keep pulling on it," you quipped. You realized the stress coming off him and the words just flew out of your mouth before you could think.

Harvey shot them a sidelong glance, his usual stoicism momentarily replaced by a flicker of amusement. "Maybe I'd be better off without it."

A small, unexpected laugh escaped Harvey's lips, surprising both him and Y/N. It was a rare sight to witness Harvey Specter, the embodiment of seriousness, letting his guard down even for a moment. Specifically with you.

" This isn't your first time easing the tension, I see the way you calm Rachel down when she gets in over her head. You always find a way to lighten the mood. What's your secret?" Harvey teased, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You shrugged, a smile forming as you too let down your guard "Maybe it's just my superpower. The ability to make even the mighty Rachel and even the mysterious Harvey Specter crack a smile."

Harvey's expression shifted back to his usual cool exterior, but a subtle warmth lingered in his eyes. "Careful, now you might start thinking you're irreplaceable."

As the elevator continued its ascent, the banter between you quieted down and Harvey and you started to go back to normal. Back to the quietness and coldness.

But before the elevator opened to the floor, Harvey sneaked in, “Well, don't let it get to your head. You're not the comedian Pearson Specter, just the document wizard.", his smile lingered a little before the face of the closer returned to its hard exterior.

If you were there longer than Rachel or she was busy running around the office she allowed you to work in her small office room. It was currently 4:00 pm but Louis had yelled at all the associates and dismissed them for the day for being useless. Only those working on the Amir case were still here, plus Donna and Rachel. Rachel was off trying to get the emails of old associates of Amir. You thought that Mike probably went off with her after your little breakdown to him. You knew Harvey was in the office and that you were typing on your keyboard like there was no tomorrow. You meticulously worked on the revised legal document, determined to prove to Harvey Specter that you could meet his standards and trying to prove yourself that you could melt your own standards. The door swung open abruptly, and you hooked up to see Harvey's stern expression.

"Y/N, we need to talk," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that another reprimand was imminent.

Your pulse quickened, and your breath caught in your throat. The anxiety that had been simmering since Harvey's earlier criticism surged to the surface. You felt a tightness in my chest, your hands trembling as you tried to compose myself.

Harvey noticed your distress, as his expression softened, and he took a step closer. "Hey, relax. I just wanted to talk about earlier. I think I may have been too harsh."

The words barely registered as your panic escalated. Your mind raced, and suddenly, you found it difficult to breathe. The walls of the office seemed to close in on you. Before you could respond, the edges of your vision blurred, and a wave of dizziness overcame you as you sat at the desk, gripping on to the edge for support.

Harvey's concern deepened as he watched you struggle. "Hey hey hey, whoa, take it easy. You are okay, everything is okay”

But you couldn't catch your breath, and panic tightened its grip. Your hands shook uncontrollably, and you gasped for air. In the midst of the chaos, Harvey acted swiftly. He made his way around the desk kneeling down to be at eye level with you.

"Deep breaths, Y/N. In and out," Harvey instructed, his voice a soothing anchor in the storm of panic.

As you continued to struggle, Harvey, without hesitation, he took your hand and placed it over his heart. "Feel my heartbeat? Match your breaths to it. In, and out”

His heartbeat served as a rhythmic guide, and slowly, your breaths synchronized with its steady cadence. The panic began to subside, replaced by a sense of calm that washed over you. As the storm within you quieted, exhaustion set in, and the world around you blurred into darkness.

Harvey caught you as you passed out. Guilt swept over him because he knew he was the cause of this. He can’t remember the last time he saw you smile, the last time you ate, the last time you lit up a room. You were giving your all in this case and by doing so you were giving away parts of yourself too. He moved you onto Rachels couch so you could lay down properly. He knew you passed out because of panic and the lack of eating, he noticed these things about you. He noticed a lot about you actually, damn it Donna, he thought.

He took his pocket square and wet it with your water bottle. He adjusted himself to the couch, moving so that your head was on his lap as he placed the cool rag on your forehead.

The aftermath of the panic attack had left both of you in a vulnerable state. Yet Harvey couldn't deny the flutter in his chest as he gazed down at you. Was it concern for your well-being, or was it the proximity that had him on edge? He shook off the thought, focusing on steadying his own heartbeat.

In the midst of the stillness, the door creaked open, and right on cue Mike Ross cautiously entered. He took in the scene, the concern etched across his face.

"What happened?" Mike asked, his eyes shifting between Harvey and your unconscious state, ready to fight Harvey if he did you any physical harm.

Harvey, in his usual commanding tone, snapped, "Go to the Mexican restaurant two blocks down and get two number 5's."

Mike, taken aback, stammered, "But—"

"Just do it," Harvey insisted, his gaze never leaving you.

Mike quickly exited, leaving Harvey alone with his unconscious colleague. He had so many questions but Harvey’s tone told him everything he needed to know. Minutes later, the door swung open again, revealing Mike with bags of Mexican takeout in hand.

"Here," Mike said, handing the bags to Harvey. "I'll take off early for the night. Rachel and I were thinking about grabbing dinner. You got this, right?" A little weary to leave you, feeling like he should tell Rachel, Donna or even Jessica. But the look in Harvey’s eye told him he had nothing to worry about.

Harvey nodded, a silent acknowledgment of Mike's understanding. As Mike left, Harvey couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and guilt. He knew you hadn't been eating well, and by the looks of your under eye bags you also hadn't been sleeping and the panic attack had been triggered by the stress of the Jackson case, a burden he bore on both their shoulders.

As you began to stir, Harvey glanced down at the bags of Mexican food. The aroma filled the room, and he hoped the gesture would, in some small way, make up for the turmoil he inadvertently caused.

"You're awake," Harvey remarked as you slowly opened their eyes.

You ignored everything around you as you slowly sat up with the help of Harvey. A blush rushing on your face realizing how close you were to Harvey. But all that faded when you saw the food, "How did you know this is my favorite?"

“That’s the first thing you ask?’Harvey raised an eyebrow.

Your body slowly turned to face him.The headache and body sores had you wincing in pain. Harvey’s eyes held much guilt and sadness in them even as he tried to suppress them and act strong in front of you. This was about you and not about what he was feeling.

“I am a simple girl. I get easily distracted by food”, you let out a small laugh even though you are exhausted, “Now answer my question”

Harvey hesitated, the words lingering on the tip of his tongue, he wanted to say that it's because he knew you. But Instead of admitting the depth of his knowledge about you, he chose a simpler response. "Who doesn't love Mexican food?"

You hummed as he moved the desk closer to you so you wouldn't have to get up from the couch. The food was spread out and he took a seat next to you. A silence took over the room as you both began to eat. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken tension, the events of the panic attack still lingering in the air.

Harvey cleared his throat, breaking the uneasy silence. "Look, Y/N, I wanted to apologize for the unnecessary pressure I put on you. It was out of line, and I shouldn't have let it escalate to the point of causing a panic attack."

You glanced up from your plate, a mixture of exhaustion and forgiveness in your eyes. "Harvey, it's not entirely your fault. The case is stressful, and I should have handled it better."

Harvey's expression softened at your words. "That doesn't excuse my behavior. I should have been more considerate. I don't want you to feel like you have to carry the weight of the case alone."

You sighed, pushing the food around on their plate. "Harvey, I forgive you, but on one condition."

Harvey raised an eyebrow, silently urging you to continue.

" I can't keep being treated like an outsider, I know I only got hired because of my writing skills but I want to do more, be more. I want to be more than just the person who drafts contracts. I know I can be a kick ass lawyer if given the chance."

Harvey took a moment to absorb your words. The realization of the impact of his actions sank in, and he nodded. "You're right”

“Did those words really just come out of your mouth”, your eye grew wide as a smile danced on your lips’’

“Just, can you just shush for a moment”, he said as he placed his fork down.

“ Jessca told me when you were hired that you were born to be a shark. I guess I got so caught up in your skills that I haven't really even given you the chance to dominate the courtroom. I shouldn't have overlooked that."

You saw something in his eyes you had never seen before. Was it hope?

You both continued to eat in subdued silence, the tension in the room shifted. The unspoken feelings between both of you simmered beneath the surface. This was forever changing the dynamic of your professional relationship.

So where do you all go after this? The case of Amir Jackson isn't over, there is much more left for you both to do. This isn't the end. This is only the beginning, leaving both Harvey and you to navigate whatever comes next.

#harvey specter x reader #harvey specter x you #harvey specter #suits #suits usa #suits tv #mike ross #donna paulsen #Pearson Hardman

273 notes · View notes

mariposa666haruka · 1 year

Text

"Awaken" (Harbingers X Fem!Reader) #00

This may mostly count as Dottore x reader...but I am thinking of making different routes for each character when the right time comes. I also wished to make the reader gender neutral but....to be honest I am afraid to do so. I do not want to make anyone uncomfortable with my unintentional mistakes and let's say I do not have a good experience with it. That is why I decided to go with a female reader (I identify myself as a female and it is much easier for me that way.)

Also this part is more of a prologue than a chapter so that is how I am marking it. It may even stay in my drafts for a while but we do not talk about that....heheh.

Warnings: Reader has long hair in this chapter cause she has been asleep for a long time and did not get a haircut in years. in this fic Pantalone has dark purple eyes.

Word count: 761

You open your eyes to a very bright light, facing the roof as you were lied down. Aside from the extreme brightness - that made your eyes shut tightly again - you could feel a quit cold liquid enter your body from your right arm....a serum?...You slowly sat up and rubbed your eyes with your free hand to ease the pain from looking at the bright light for too long.

Your body hurt....you were in pain, like you had not moved your limbs for a very long time; not to mention your brain was still hazy, furthermore you were not sure about what you were doing before getting inside this room that was very much like a medical lab filled with all sorts of big devices which most of them were connected to your feet and right arm.

Slowly looking down, you find yourself in a very delicate icy dress with long yet loose and see through sleeves.

Despite feeling pain in your arms, you carefully remove whatever is connected to your body. The cold liquid smelled strange, you could not put your hand on its name though.

Your legs felt weak as you stood up and held onto the wall. It hurt to just stand, you could not imagine how painful walking would be.

You soon dragged yourself out of the room and hissed at the sudden coldness. "Why is it... so cold?" Even talking hurt. Your throat itched and your vocal cores had a hard time making any sound. You decided not to talk until getting yourself a glass of water.

The temperature seemed to drop further as you walked closer to what looked like an exit door; it opened easily after pushing a random button and soon you were hit with even a colder air, as it was way chillier outside the room.

If one were to look from afar, They would see a female figure walking down the corridor, helplessly holding into the wall; which was exactly what the great Regrator was witnessing.

' A woman...coming out of The Doctor's lab.....? Is she perhaps a new test subject?" He thought, taking into account how unlikely it was to see a test subject of the infamous Doctor healthy enough to escape the laboratory. They were not even left alive most of them times. Pantalone was already used to hearing screams and cries of help outside of that cursed lab; but a woman - in a really decent and nice dress - making it out without in any blood on her? That sure was a rare sight to see and he possibly could not contain his curiosity; Therefore his legs led him towards you.

Your legs had given up carrying your weight any further, that is why all you managed to do was to sit down where you were, the wall behind you supporting your back.

"Well well, what do we have here? What are you doing here little darling?~ in such light clothes too; you'll catch a cold if not careful." Said the dark haired man, who seemed to be wearing glasses or shall I say that was what your weak eyes were seeing? You barely could see how his facial features looked like.

On the other hand, The Ninth Harbinger took a good look at your face and how your long hair covered your shoulders down to your belly; as if it had not been cut for centuries, despite that, your hair was completely clean and your body seemed to be freshly washed.....you felt like you had taken a bath the night before, as you felt a certain freshness lingering to your skin.

Back to the jet black haired man, he was talking to you but all you heard were uncoherent words, so you began mumbling words of your own.

"Zandik....where is..Zandik....cold...I must....find..him."

Pantalone's eyes widened at the name you just whispered. You knew of of The Doctor's true name?.....unexpected yet impressive.

"Zandik.."

"Oh little darling~ I'll take you to Zandik" He chuckled and wrapped his big warm coat around you. He then picked you up carefully and almost laughed at how you pressed your cold face to his warm chest.

It has been a very long time since the last time he was this much amused by someone....and you weren't even conscious yet. He wondered how entertaining you would be once you were fully awake.

The Regrator walked towards the harbingers' meeting room, where every single harbinger would have been gathered there by now.

Oh how impatient he was to witness their expressions once they saw the woman in his arms.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #pierro x reader #capitano x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #signora x reader #alrecciono x reader #wanderer x reader #balladeer x reader

797 notes · View notes

straykeedz · 5 months

Note

Hello! I’ve been requesting this for some other blogs but I’m really interested to see what you would come up with for this request. Your storys are amazing btw

I was wondering if I can request a Felix story. Where y/n is dating hyunjin felix best friend and Felix at the beginning feels really guilty for liking her so much and always thinking about her. And one time when hyunjin leaves the reader and Felix alone, Felix snaps and kisses her which kinda freaks her out so he has no choice but to kidnap her because of his own jealousy and want. It’s a yandere type of story. If you don’t feel comfortable writing something that I request you can totally bend the story to your liking to feel more comfortable. Thank you ❤️ and as for the rating I’ll leave that up to you.

𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ; 𝐥𝐟

i cannot put into words how sorry i am for making you wait so long for this… 💔 it’s been in my drafts for months but i didn’t like what i had originally written so i opened a whole new doc and basically rewrote the whole thing 🥹 i haven’t read many yandere!aus so i’m sorry if this is weird or not how you imagined it, i’m just not familiar with the genre 🥹 anyways it’s finally here, hope you like it and thank you so much for requesting this and for being so patient with me!! ♡

𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞: 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐰: 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐚𝐮; 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫. 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧; 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 (𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠); 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫; 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲;

𝐰𝐜: 4,4𝐤

⚠︎

Felix never really believed in the ‘true love’ delusion - until his eyes met yours for the first time, that’s when things changed.

And when they did, when your eyes met, when your eyes stared deep into his soul, he instantly knew he was damned. Your eyes met his and he felt like he could finally understand what everyone was talking about - falling head over heels for someone. One person, just one, destined to him - he believed he had found it, and he had found it in you. Beautiful, funny, smart, sweet and caring, with the brightest and most contagious smile he’d ever seen. From the day he met you, he knew you were the one for him.

Which wasn't exactly ideal, considering you were also his best friend’s girlfriend.

Yes, he feels guilty about crushing on Hyunjin’s girlfriend, because who would betray his best friend like that? What kind of person did this make him? At the same time, it wasn’t Felix’s fault, and it’s not like he could control his feelings or his heart, nor stop himself from falling for you, because truth be told, he didn’t even realize he was falling for you until he was already in too deep. Fallen for a girl who was already taken - by his very best friend nonetheless.

However, part of him is also angry and frustrated, because he knows he could treat you better than Hyunjin. Love you better, make you feel special, give you everything he had, never make you feel alone like Hyunjin does, especially when he turns off his phone for hours to work on a new art piece. He would give you everything, he could be the perfect guy for you. And you already are the perfect girl for him - so perfect he actually thinks you must be an angel, the incarnation of the girl of his dreams.

It almost scares him, what he feels for you. It makes him feel weak, like he’s wrapped around your finger - and you don’t even know it. You don’t know the effect your words, your smiles, the gentle pats on his back have on him. You don’t know you are on his mind 24/7 - an obsessive, recurring thought.

And as Felix’s love for you grew, so did his jealousy. Which was and is crazy, considering you’re not his.

Hyunjin doesn’t deserve to be with you, and he’s going to prove it to you. He is going to make you realize that the perfect guy for you has been right under your nose all this time, that you need someone like him by your side - not Hyunjin. Felix knows that, if you were his, he’d make you feel like a priority - you’d be his priority, the center of his entire world.

Hyunjin proves him right for the umpteenth time when, during an afternoon out with the guys and their girlfriends, he suddenly stands up with his phone in his hands. You look at him confused, furrowing his eyebrows, and he’s quick to explain that - “Shit, I forgot I already made plans to have dinner at my parents’ tonight.”

Felix kinda wants to roll his eyes in the back of his skull when Hyunjin leans in to kiss your lips, but he manages to fight off the urge, thanks to a certain level of self-control he didn’t know he had in him. However, he wants to throw up when Hyunjin also cups your face with his hands and deepens the kiss, practically French kissing you now in front of literally everyone - none of the boys or their girlfriends care, though, only Felix seems to be particularly bothered by it. Because he is.

“Baby…”, you mutter, pulling away from Hyunjin’s lips, your cheeks turning to a dark shade of pink. “Behave, we’re not alone.”, you playfully scold him, and Felix wants to throw up.

Hyunjin smirks as he looks around the room, and then his eyes land on Felix, and notices his friend’s gaze is set on him. “Oops, sorry. Got a bit carried away.”, he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck with one hand.

Felix kinda wants to slap that stupid grin off of his friend’s face - instead, he smiles at Hyunjin and slightly bows his head as if to say No problem, it’s okay. It’s not okay, but he’s in no place to say anything. So he smiles and pretends.

“Oh, Felix, by the way…” Hyunjin starts as he grabs his jeans jacket from the chair. “Do you mind driving y/n home? It’s getting dark outside and I don’t want her to catch a bus too late.”, he explains.

For a second there, Felix asks himself why me? Why couldn’t Hyunjin ask someone else? But then he takes a look around the table, and realizes that all of his friends are with their girlfriend, and that he’s the only one alone. Maybe you don’t want to feel like a third wheel, or maybe there’s no particular reason at all why Hyunjin picked him of all people. Anyways, he’s glad he did - this way, he’ll get to spend some time alone with you.

He nods a little too quickly. “Sure, it’s no problem.”, he says, then his gaze shifts from Hyunjin to you and he smiles at you. You smile back, and he shivers. Your smile... He feels his legs shake just by seeing your smile. He wishes he could kiss it.

“Thank you, mate.” Hyunjin smiles at him, and then he kisses you again, this time on your forehead. “See you tomorrow, baby. Text me when you’re home.”

Felix fights off a scoff at the pet name, the same one you used minutes before. Baby. Felix feels like there’s nothing special about it, and that a girl like you - a true goddess, deserves a better pet name. In his head, Felix calls you angel. He calls you angel right before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s a recurrent thought he has, together with many more explicit ones. It’s hard, in every sense, not to when you’re this good-looking. In his head, he calls you angel when he’s making love to you. You’re his angel, he loves you so much - he’s sure of it. There’s no other explanation, no other word capable to describe the overwhelming feeling that fills his chest every time he thinks about you.

Hyunjin says goodbye to the rest of the guys and their girlfriend, then finally leaves.

Felix he can’t help but notice you’re feeling a little embarrassed to be there alone, especially since everyone has a partner and you’re the only one whose boyfriend left. But you’re not the only one who’s alone - Felix is too. He sees it as an opportunity, you know? To make you realize that he’s there for you, that he cares about you. Felix is here for you, he would do anything for you - he would to everything for you.

One night, he had a dream - a weird one at that. You were his girlfriend in that dream, which is not something unusual - Felix dreams about you being his girl a lot. Most of the time, his dreams aren’t very chaste, especially if he goes to sleep right after touching himself to the thought of you. Anyways, not the point. In that dream, you were his girlfriend and somebody had taken you away from him. Like, physically - the dream had started with you being kidnapped by some creep and Felix had to rescue you. When did, when he found you and saved you - because how could he not, you’re the love of his life after all - you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss, whispering soft “I love you, Felix” right on his lips before each kiss.

That’s when Felix realized - he’d do anything for you. Everything. He’d tear the world apart for you, he’d kill whoever tried to hurt you without thinking twice. Sometimes, he’d get scared of his own thoughts, but in his mind something was perfectly clear - no matter what happened, he would never hurt you. Never. You’re his angel, he’d protect you at all costs.

So he spends time with you, talking to you, asking you about your day, what you’ve been doing lately, how are things at work and stuff like that - stuff that makes him feel closer to you, as if he’s getting to know you a bit deeper and not just on a surface level. For a second there - this friends don’t even exist anymore, and he lets his imagination run wild. Oh, how perfect it would be, if you were his… If this was a date, and not just an afternoon out with your friends - if Felix was your boyfriend, the one who gets to hold your hand, the one who gets to take you home, kiss you on the lips and make sweet love to you all night long.

That should be him.

You two clearly work much better than you do with Hyunjin, how can’t you see that? Are you so blind that you can’t see that Felix is literally perfect for you? You’ve been smiling at him all night, looking at him with those perfect little eyes he adores so much, playfully slapping his arm every time he says something funny… Sooner than later, a thought pops up in your mind. Wait, what if… what if you did realize that Felix was a better match and this was your way of showing him that you’re interested in him? Maybe you’re flirting with him - yes, it sounds absurd even to Felix for a second there, but is it really that absurd? Maybe you’re just trying to be subtle about it.

Felix can’t let himself think that you’re into him. He can’t.

So far, he’s been very respectful towards his dear friend Hyunjin, but he knows that the second you tell him you want him, he’ll be damned, because there’s no way he’ll be able to resist you. You’re his weak spot, he’d literally risk losing Hyunjin as a friend if it means he gets to have you, even for a minute. You’re worth it - you’re worth this and so much more.

You’re laughing again at one of his stupid jokes, and as you raise your hands to cover your smile while you laugh, your t-shirt raises a little, uncovering your stomach for a fraction of a second. It’s enough to make Felix salivate like an horny teenager.

Suddenly, he’s reminded of that day when he accidentally walked in on you changing in Hyunjin’s room. Technically, it wasn’t his fault, Hyunjin had sent him to tell you something, he doesn’t even remember what he was supposed to tell you, and when he knocked and pushed the door open you were there, standing in the middle of the room in front of your mirror, shirtless. You were wearing pants, yes, but you were still in your fucking bra. Felix tried his best not to get hard - he failed. He closed the door in a rush, apologizing to you over and over again, but you didn’t notice that he’d left the door ajar. From behind the door, he stood there, peeking, admiring your soft curves like a creep, while palming himself over his pants, unable to tear his eyes off of you - and then, once he’d found himself alone in the confines of the four walls of his bedroom, he stroked himself to the thought of you again and again and again.

It’s crazy, the effect you have on him. He doesn’t even think about other women, he doesn’t pay attention to them. In his mind, there’s only you. You’re the sweetest, you’re the smartest, you’re the hottest, you’re the funniest, you’re the only one who turns him on, you’re the only one for him. He wants you. He needs you - needs to have you. Not even in a sexual way, he just needs you to be his. There’s never gonna be anyone like you. You’re the one for him.

And then you ask him to please drive you home, because it’s getting late. He takes it as a sign that perhaps he wasn’t imagining things - maybe you’re really into him, maybe this is a hint. Do you want him too, perhaps? The same way he wants you? Unconditionally, wholeheartedly? All these thoughts make his heart race and his head spin as his mind is filled with possible scenarios that could happen - in his mind, all of them end positively, with you in his arms, with you as his girl.

“The car’s this way.” Felix tells you, indicating with his pointer finger the direction where he parked his vehicle.

Walking next to you like he’s doing - body so close to yours, hands nearly brushing due to the proximity, makes his mind race. This is just like a scenario he once imagined, where he would take a walk with you, and you’d be holding hands and smiling at him and he wouldn’t be able to resist from kissing your lips again and again. He bets your lips taste the best - he’s sure they do. You’re an angel, so you must taste divine.

You’ve finally reached his car when you trip and notice your shoelaces are untied. Felix notices too.

“Your shoelaces are untied.”, he states. “Let me.”

And before you can say anything, he’s on his knee before you, your shoelaces between his fingers, ready to tie them for you even though you didn’t ask him. And you do get a little bit flustered, you have to admit, because it’s sort of an intimate gesture if you think about it. Moreover, you’re wearing a skirt tonight, and even though it’s not a super short skirt, you do feel a little exposed right now, especially because his face is so close to your bare legs - so close you can feel his hot breath against your skin.

Felix has to pretend he hasn’t caught a glimpse of your underwear as he lifts his gaze to look at you once he’s done tying your shoes, with a smile on his face - a very fake smile, considering he’s forcing himself to think of disgusting and obnoxious things to prevent a bulge from forming in his jeans. Hyunjin lets you go out like this? Isn’t he jealous? Felix could never allow something like this, he’d lose his mind if somebody else ever lay his eyes on you - he’d do crazy, unspeakable things.

“Thank you.”, you mumble, visibly embarrassed by the situation. “You didn’t- you didn’t have to.”

You’re so cute - that’s all Felix can’t think of. So sweet all the time, always so innocent… it makes him go feral. You’re a true angel, but you make him wanna act like a demon, how was it possible? How do you do it? Do you have the same effect on Hyunjin?

“I know.” Felix smiles at you. “I did it because I wanted to.”

“Oh.” It catches you off guard, you’re not even sure what you’re supposed to say. “Thank you.”

Felix chuckles. “You already said that.”, he points out.

You blink a couple of times. “You’re right. I already said that, eh.”, you giggle, a bit embarrassed and kind of confused by the way you’re acting.

God, your smile. Felix would kill for your smile. Literally, but that’s another story.

Felix loves you. He already knew that, but everything’s much clearer now that he’s looking at you so closely - you look so beautiful under the dim light of the street lamp, so cute, so innocent, and so fucking kissable. He wants to kiss you. He has to know how your lips taste.

And that’s exactly why he gets closer and closer to you. You take a couple of steps back until your back is pressed against the hard surface of Felix’s car. What is he doing? Why is he acting so strange? Has he ever looked so handsome? Wait- what?

He doesn’t even give you the time to process your latest thought, because in record time he’s caging with his arms, planted on each side of your body, palms resting against his own car. Your body is trapped, and his face is close - so close to yours. Too close.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.” Felix mutters quietly, looking you in the eye as he speaks. “I never told you that, you know? And that’s a shame, because you really are beautiful, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever lay my eyes on.”

It’s like he’s not in control of his own mind and body, the words rolling off his tongue almost automatically, but they’re all true. He truly means every thing he’s just said to you, with all his heart.

“Felix-“

“You’re amazing.” Felix whispers, and you can now feel his hot breath on your face - he’s so close, his piercing brown eyes staring into yours. One of his hand moves to push away a lock of hair from your face, and his touch is so delicate and careful it sends a shiver down your spine. “I like you so much. No, scratch that - I love you.”

Felix knows it’s an unwritten rule - after a love confession follows a kiss. He’s read it in books, seen it in movies and even his friends told him. That’s why he cups your cheek with the palm of his hand, and his nose brushes yours. And the next thing you know, Felix’s lips are on yours. It’s a delicate kiss - not rushed, his lips just pressed against yours and they feel so soft and warm; it’s a romantic kiss, a kiss in which Felix pours all of his love and adoration for you. A kiss that, hopefully, will open your eyes and make you realize he’s the one you should be with.

It doesn’t.

It’s when Felix’s tongue brushes your lower lip that your eyes snap open and you realize you should do something, you should stop him - you have a boyfriend, Hyunjin, whom you love. The same Hyunjin who trusts his best Felix and asked him to drive you home safely. The same Hyunjin you’re now technically cheating on. The realization makes you widen your eyes and your breath hitch in your throat, and you’re quick to press your hands on his chest and push him away from your body.

“Felix…”, he senses the panic in your voice, and hates it. “Felix, we can’t do that.”, you murmur, lowering your gaze, unsure of what you’re supposed to say next. What are you supposed to say when your boyfriend’s best friend suddenly kisses you out of the blue? Was it because of something you’d said or done? “I’m with Hyunjin.”

Felix clenches his jaw almost automatically when you mention his best friend’s name. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to be thinking of Hyunjin when he was kissing you - you were supposed to fall for him, to realize you have feelings for him.

This makes something inside of him… snap.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I don’t know what came over me.” Felix says, but you can’t really tell whether he’s being sincere with you or not. His eyes are dark, jaw still clenched, his mind going a million miles per hour as he’s currently trying to figure out a way to get out of this mess. “Let’s pretend nothing happened, okay?”, he suggests. “Hyunjin doesn’t have to know.”

You nod slowly, albeit not entirely convinced, he can see it in your eyes. He has do something about this, he has to fix this mess before it’s too late. Hyunjin can’t know about the kiss, Felix’ll make sure of that.

“I’ll drive you home now. Once again, I’m so sorry…”

You don’t say anything, just smile awkwardly at him and get in the passenger seat.

Felix starts the car and begins to drive, and none of you dares to speak about what happened. Your place is at least a half an hour drive away, and it’s going to be awkward to be in the same car without uttering a single word to each other, but what are you supposed to say? There’s no right thing to say in situations like this. So, you just lean your head on the headrest and pray for the drive to be over soon - you’ll figure everything out later, you guess.

However, you don’t expect Felix to miss the exit of the highway. Accidentally, you suppose, when really - it’s not.

“Felix, you missed the exit.”, you speak quietly, looking at him for the first time in almost fifteen minutes. He keeps his eyes on the road and doesn’t answer you, eyes still dark, jaw clenched tightly and hands gripping the steering wheel hard - so hard you’re actually scared it may break. “Felix…”, you try again, unsure whether he heard you before or not. “I- I live on the other side of the city.”

“Oh, angel.”, he speaks in a low voice - tone all but soothing, which sends a shiver down your spine. “You’re not going home tonight.”, he grins - it’s not a playful grin, you realize. He’s being serious.

“What do you mean?”, you ask, and Felix doesn’t miss the way your voice quivers. He doesn’t answer you. In fact, he keeps on driving - eyes on the road and jaw clenched. So, you speak again. “Felix, what do you mean?”, you repeat.

For the second time, he doesn’t answer.

“Can you at least tell me where we're going?”, you beg him - voice shaking, and Felix almost feels bad for you and gives in. Almost.

“I can’t, angel. You’ll see once we get there.”, is all he tells you.

⚠︎

Felix pushes you inside the dark and cold house, albeit not too roughly, finally releasing the grip on your wrists. He shuts the door close behind himself, making sure to lock it just in case you decided to come up with another silly idea like you did minutes before, when you tried to run away from him as soon as he parked the car. Not that you would go that far anyways, Felix made sure of that. Plus, you don’t even know where you are right now, where would you even run away? You must be at least two hours away from Seoul anyway, and you don’t even have your phone with you - Felix threw it in the backseats of his car when he caught you trying to send a text message. To Hyunjin, he supposed.

“Make yourself at home, angel.” Felix tells you, turning on the light, revealing the inside of the apartment. “After all, this will be your home for the next few days.”

Your breath hitches in your throat - what is this place? It’s not Felix’s place, you’ve been there before with Hyunjin and a couple of friends, and it doesn’t look like this. Besides, he doesn’t live that far from Seoul anyway. You have a lot of questions running back and forth inside your head right now, but you don’t dare to voice any of them. Felix is already pretty pissed from the last stunt you pulled, you wouldn’t want to upset him even more.

“What’s up, angel?”, he asks you, his deep voice vibrates in his chest. Right now, it’s nothing like the sweet voice you’re used to hear - he’s speaking coldly to you, it’s almost as if he’s a total stranger to you. And truthfully, he is, because the Felix you know wouldn’t do anything like this.

“Felix…”, you turn to look at him, and he can see you’re trying to fight back the tears that welled in your eyes. “I want to go back home, Felix. Please take me home.”, your broken voice make Felix’s heart ache, but he can’t give you what you want.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you go, angel.” Felix gets close to you, his dark eyes staring right into yours, wide and scared. “He’s going to take you away from me if I do, and I cannot let that happen.”, is the only explanation he gives you.

You frown - who is he talking about? Is he talking about…

“Who’s gonna take me away?” you start, “Are you talking about Hyun-“ you’re immediately interrupted by a loud thud.

“Don’t say his name!” Felix shouts, slamming his hand on the hard surface of the table right next to you. It’s so sudden and unexpected it makes your body jolt as you stare at him with wide eyes and mouth agape, completely speechless. Felix feels bad, he really does, but at the same time he’s really mad at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to scare you, just- don’t say his name when you’re with me, hm?”, he cups your face in his palms, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

You nod slowly, not sure id you’re even able to speak. You’re shocked, this all feels surreal in the worst way. You need to process this whole thing, but you’re honestly too shook to think straight right now.

“Tell me what’s going on in your mind, angel.”, he whispers - you can feel his hot breath on your skin from how close he is to your face. “I want to know what you’re thinking.”

You want to tell him a lot of things. You want to scream at him - tell him he’s fucking crazy if he thinks any of this is fucking normal, you want to cry, you want Hyunjin. Your mind feels full and completely blank at the same time. However, the only words you manage to utter are -

“I’m scared.”, your voice cracks, and you're about to cry.

His features soften a bit as he heads your words, and you even see him crack a sympathetic smile. “Oh, sweet angel…”, he caresses your cheeks, then places a soft kiss on your forehead. Then, staring deep into your eyes, he tells you - “There’s nothing to be scared of, angel. I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.”, he leans to press a kiss on your cheek. Then, he pulls back to look you in the eye. “I love you too much to hurt you, you have to trust me, angel. Do you trust me?”

And for some reason, you do.

⚠︎

-> 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 - “𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧” 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝.

-> 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬.

156 notes · View notes

yiminsuu · 1 year

Text

No Control

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader

Warnings: Sexual themes (+18), dubious consent, unprotected sex, (semi) public sex, breeding, some fluff and angst, La Plaga acts like an aphrodisiac, mutual pining, reader and Leon are bad at communication.

Author’s Note: People don't know how invested I am in the Resident Evil games right now, if I loved the original games you can imagine how much I adore the remakes. Also, I've been having the most horrid of writing blocks in existence, I had this draft for 2 months! 2 MONTHS!!

Roaming around the castle with, apparently, no exit, is frustrating and even more so when you think your friend can't be as dumb as people think she is, but here we are, Ashley has gone missing once more and I'm stuck with Leon, who is sick with La Plaga and refuses to take a minute to regain strength by resting. My worries grow the more we proceed, and it seems he is obsessed with taking all the hits to himself, even though I can use a gun. I'm not the one the government is looking for, I know very well no one is looking for me, and if Leon hadn't found me I wouldn't be alive to see Ashley or, for lack of better words, to see her running around the castle to supposedly keep us safe.

"Are you sure you are alright?" I spoke, receiving a glance from Leon as we make our way through a corridor. "I should be the one asking you that, that knife stab was not pretty." I refuse to let myself be the damsel in distress, and I admit I can do many things if you give me a weapon, but in the last attack we were surrounded by the monks. The excruciating pain came as a shock, I couldn't move and my scream must have made Leon panic because his attention went immediately to me and the wound on my shoulder. "Do you need me to change the bandage?" I shook my head and lowered my gaze, letting the silence invade the space. I don't know if he can feel the tension, but dammit, ever since this Ada appeared out of nowhere there was this tightness in the air I couldn't quite grasp. I'm afraid Leon isn't as talkative as he was a few hours ago and I wonder why, he makes sure I'm protected even if I don't need it... Most of the time... And he refuses to make eye contact. Perhaps I did or said something he didn't like but I don't really see him as the type to hold a grudge against something like that, Leon doesn't believe it, but he literally is an angel.

Suddenly, Leon halts all of his movements and holds his head tightly in his hands, grunting in pain as he fell to his knees. We need to get to a safer area, La Plaga surely is a son of bitch to deal with. I placed his arm around my neck and helped him to move before someone sees us, clenching my gun in rising stress. "(Y/N)..." He muttered my name in a very low tone, he's completely out of it. I took Leon for as long as I could before he let himself fall to his knees again, his back hitting the wall abruptly. "Leon? Hey, stay with me. I'll give you some medicine and I'll go look for Ashley." As soon as I said that, his pained expression was gone, replaced by an alarmed one. "You can't go on your own...!"

"We have to save Ashley, and you are too weak because of the virus. I'll be fast." Leon's hand grabbed my arm harshly, and I'm sure it was going to leave a mark soon. In reality, he looked a lot sicker than I thought he would, his eyes were changing to red little by little, and even like this, he refused to look at me. "I don't..." He whispered, I furrowed my brows in concern. "Want you to die..." I once wondered why he seemed closed off, so serious and quiet, his kind demeanor quickly rushed away those thoughts but this surely answered many questions I couldn't ask him for obvious reasons.

I sighed deeply, sitting next to him and doing my best to calm down as he laid his head on my shoulder. We're not safe anywhere, so once someone finds us it will be game over, strangely, we haven't seen any enemy for the past 40 minutes.

Time goes by and we rest as much as we can in the lone room, I would occasionally touch Leon's head hoping he hasn't caught a fever, unfortunately, he was starting to burn up and I know it wasn't from walking under the cold rain. I kneel away and gain an unhearable mumble from the man, and checking on him closely, I see his rapidly rising chest, reddened cheeks, and hair disheveled from the short nap. "What is it doing to you?" I questioned confused, and slightly panicked when Leon opened his eyes to stare at me, pupils dilated and red with something I couldn't identify. "Leon...?" Slowly, he moved his legs apart and set down the shotgun, my eyes widened.

The bulge in his pants was massive.

A whimper escaped from my lips before I recomposed myself, is this one of the side effects of La Plaga?

Leon looked embarrassed beyond belief, trying to hide his face as much as possible. "I want to touch you." He started. "I need to... You have to get away." Leon... Wants to touch me?

No. This is not Leon, it's La Plaga speaking and messing with his body and mind, I have to find Luis as soon as possible and destroy the virus. "Hang in there." With that, I immediately ran away, but my heartbeat increased when the sound of footsteps caught up to me, crying loudly when two arms elevated me from behind. "Leon! Let me go--!" Before I know it, Leon lowered us, pressing my body onto the ground as his weight settles over my back. A groan escaped my lips, ready to grab my gun just to be swiftly incapacitated by the agent. "Leon...!"

"Quiet." Eyes widening at the deep sound of his voice, I noticed his breathing worsening the more he let the parasite take control. His hands shook and he slowly held up my leg to allow me to turn around, out of sympathy for someone I consider a friend, I stared into Leon's eyes. The sight broke my heart, he looked aroused, confused, a flushing mess of a guy that has an idea of what is about to happen. His brows furrowed the more tightly he grabbed on my clothing, just to have it ripped within a second, my only undergarments being my panties. I couldn't help but shiver from the cold surroundings. Leon bit his lip and glared at his own impotence to control the parasite, his firm, calloused fingers caress a smooth path along my skin before gently spreading my legs.

"It's okay..." Leon looked at me, bewildered at my words. If there was no way of escaping this, then at least we can make each other feel better somehow. "Just... Do what you have to do. I-I'll be fine..."

Leon closed his eyes slowly and with a shaky breath, his knife sliced my last remaining decency and he cupped my cunt, both of us became acutely aware of just how wet I am. It would be a lie to claim Leon is not good-looking, a good guy, and perhaps I'm the bad one because I found myself daydreaming of him like this. The touch felt heated, the pressure is delicious, and I can’t help but push my hips up, seeking more contact, more friction, just more of Leon... But his hand is already moving away. The tip of one finger slides a line to my clit, and my whole body jolts at the electric contact, his nervous pants are hot as he made slow, precise circles over and over on my clit. Then his hand dips lower, sinking two thick fingers into me. It punches the air out of me, leaving only an ache, my mind feels raw around the edges, fuzzy with the sharp spike of heat spearing through me.

I know what he's doing, Leon doesn't want to hurt me, but he's letting it harm him the more he tries to restrain it. He pulled his hand away, it’s like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head, I watch him through half-lidded eyes, breath panting as my lungs squeeze painfully tight in my chest. I heard the sound of a belt amongst our hard breathing, he sounded relieved for a second. I shivered when I felt his tip pressing against my hole, Leon holds himself there, and I spasm in place while the wait becomes excruciating. I don’t know what he’s doing until I hear the inhale of a breath.

"I'm sorry..."

Then I feel everything, pain, pleasure, warmth, the sensation of being filled without mercy. I moaned, his hand firm on my waist as he pins me down. His jaw tenses, watching himself slide out me slowly, waiting for some type of signal that would mean he can and should stop, but nothing comes, in fact, it makes it worse. Leon is looming above me, wrapping one hand around his slick cock, wet with pre-come dripping from the flushed tip. "Fuck..." He muttered, yanking me even closer toward him and notching the tip of his cock at my entrance. I braced myself for penetration, anticipating the stretch of him with a pathetic whimper.

The first slide as he filled me up again with his cock is fucking heaven, a sweet aching stretch that sends pleasure singing out along my every nerve. My thighs tremble, my body arching against him without any input from me, clenching down around his girth while my vision flickered. Leon groaned shamefully, he sounded desperate the faster he moved, I swear I can see fucking stars. He doesn’t stop, he can't, he thrusts himself into me with harsh, deep thrusts and pleasure spreads up my stomach, twining along my legs, and I can feel my orgasm building already.

My breath comes out as a sob, tears stinging my eyes as my cunt clenched and squeezed around the hardness of his cock, twitching and jerking in response. A hand rested against my cheek, it didn't slow Leon's motions, but it was the softest response I had from him since this whole ordeal started. I placed my hand on his in response to his concern, and those beautiful eyes of his slammed shut, biting out a curse.

If this wasn't caused by a lethal virus I would be happy to think he feels the same way, but shit... Even if this is only to aid him a little I don’t mind being a cum bucket for a few hours. Muscles contract and clutch down in a way that's beyond my control when I'm rewarded with more deep thrusts. My eyes widened when he touched my cervix, making me whimper loudly. "L-Leon!!" It’s maddening, pleasure shoots through my entire being before rolling my eyes back and cumming around his cock...

He doesn't stop, Leon doesn't stop-- Fuck! He's not stopping!

I try to push him away from me, but it's all for naught as he relentlessly thrusts himself into me. "Almost, I'm almost there..." He spoke, his skin slapping against mine with no signs of stopping soon. Fucking liar, trying to make me feel better when we know it feels like we're both going to die. "Look at me, (Y/N)... Don't close your eyes." Slowly but surely, I indulged, and all I can see is his eyes burning into me, pupils blown so wide that they were almost pitch black. Leon's intense gaze fixed on me is like I'm the only thing that exists to him, I want him to stop, but I'm too far gone to say any word.

We're stripped of thinking at this point, Leon is going feral little by little and he's not letting me go, I doubt he will try to control La Plaga again. I screamed whenever he would hit my cervix, unable to close my mouth if only for shame, but I'm blissed out of my mind and overstimulated. I met his dark gaze, finding his eyes on my body once more, maybe he hasn't stopped staring at all. "Stop-- F-Fuck! Staring--!" I choked on a moan, it was barely coherent, but somehow I managed to get the words out. With a startled yell, I was pulled to his lap and sighed in relief at the change of position. "Better?" Leon whispered into my ear, once I nodded, he began thrusting as if he has the stamina to last a lifetime.

My hands clenched on his shirt, mentally cursing again and again at how perfectly he fills me, he's hitting every right spot. Leon puts a hand across my hair, his eyes softening and planting small kisses on my shoulder and neck to calm me down, repeating that he'll be over soon, that he's sorry. The sweet burning ache builds immediately, deep and consuming, the blissful pleasure swirls tight and insistent somewhere deep in my belly. I can't recognize any more words outside of my own, but Leon's voice is gentle, the softness is in direct contrast to the way I'm crying and begging. I reached up and tangled my hand in his hair, drawing him closer so I can kiss him.

Leon's arms come around me as his hips thrust up, a small cry coming out of my mouth as he licked my lips. He groaned, hips adjusting his angle, arms pulling me down greedily so I can meet his non-stopping strikes, again and again with a hard and rough pace. With this new position, it doesn’t take me long to feel that familiar warmth, all I can do is cling to him as everything inside me intensifies in every sense of the word. "(Y/N)..." Pleasure spills over my body, it's chaotic and too much, bright spots blinding my vision as I come, harder than I ever have in my life, and squirting all over Leon's shirt and lap.

Leon still isn’t stopping, pushing deep into me as his thrusts don’t slow even when his cum coats my walls, a broken gasp escaping him. "F-Fuck, Leon!" The blinding bliss spikes through my blood, hot and piercing. It’s pitiful the way I'm sobbing and whining as he continues relentlessly with his strokes until both of us are completely spent. Finally, he stills, collapsing on the ground with me above him, and we lay there like that for a long moment, panting in absolute euphoria.

I feel sleepy and sated, with all the stress of being hunted down this was like a breath of fresh air, and reality went blurry and faded at the edges. "Didn't think this would happen, but thanks..." Leon said, panting. I hummed, trying to calm my heartbeat. "Sorry about your clothes."

I snickered at his awkwardness after such intense sex. "I doubt you are." The silence came back, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would be, his arms were hugging my form and I felt safe and protected. Then he sat with me resting against him. "I'm alright, seriously. Still, I doubt I will be able to walk for a while."

Leon looked away embarrassed but turned back to me, kissing my forehead. "Wanna get coffee after this?"

I smiled tiredly, but deep down the feeling of joy flourished. "Yeah, now go on and look for some clothes, I don't want Ashley to ask."

#resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil imagine #oneshot

447 notes · View notes

fiapartridge · 5 months

Text

catching fire au | the underdog

jack hughes x hockey!player

summary: training camp

warning(s): cursing, jack's an asshole!!

a/n: send in some asks for the au <3 i kinda hate this, but hey im done w/ college apps and am ready to write woo

taglist (send in an ask or dm me if u wanna be on the taglist for this au!): @hockeyboysarehot

THERE’S A REASON no one takes a chance on the underdog. “She’s not fast enough, she’s not strong enough, she’ll get hurt.” But they don’t know Riley Dell. No one knew Riley Dell; of her capabilities, her strengths, her weaknesses.

But this year, she was going to make a name of herself—no matter what, or who, stood in her way.

SECT. I: TRAINING CAMP.

Media day was a living hell. The interviews consisted of the same tasteless questions: “How do you feel being the first female player in the NHL?” and “How are you going to measure up to the physicality of the other players in the league?” While everyone else was getting questions about their actual gameplay; how they’ll navigate their weaknesses and hone in on their strengths, Riley was getting compared to every single player imaginable.

And the pictures and videos weren’t any better. The photographers suggested that she layed off on the gloves and stick and instead held makeup—fucking makeup. Why the the fuck would she be holding a mascara wand on the ice? The entire day felt pointless. Not a single person took her seriously, and if she called them out, they would accuse her of complaining. She already got the “privilege” of being drafted, and now she wants to complain? Doesn’t look too great.

The day after, everyone hit the ice for actual training. Finally, a time where she could prove that she deserved to be there; that she earned her spot; that Riley Dell was a force to be reckoned with.

The training camp roster was split into three groups: A, B, and C. Throughout the weekend, the groups were to scrimmage, playing each team once. Group A was the one to keep your eye on. The goaltenders consisted of Tyler Brennan and Vitek Vanecek; defenseman being Brendan Smith, Colin Miller, Luke Hughes, Cal Foote, Michael Vukojevic, Kevin Bahl, and Joe Gambardella; and forwards being Tyce Thompson, Michael McLeod, Curtis Lazar, Max Willman, Jesper Bratt, Tyler Toffoli, Flip Engras, Tomas Nosek, Jack Hughes, and Riley Dell.

“Lindy fucking hates us,” Jack groaned upon seeing Riley tying her laces on the bench as groups A and B skated around the practice facility, getting ready to battle in their first scrimmage of the training camp. “That’s why he gave us Riley, right? To get back at us for not winning in the playoffs.”

Luke skated around his older brother, watching as Jack eyes Riley. “I don’t know why you hate her so much. She hasn’t even stepped foot on the ice yet, Jacky.”

“It’s more than the ice, Luke,” Jack turned to the younger boy, annoyance laced in his voice. “Once she joins the team, the entire dynamic will be off. What will happen to the locker room, Luke, or what will happen when we celebrate our wins? Is she gonna come to the bars with us? It’s stupid, Luke.”

“It’s one girl, Jack. The locker room will be fine, and what’s wrong with her coming to the bars? If anything’s stupid, it’s you, man,” Luke scoffed. “Now come on, being an asshole isn’t gonna win us this game,” Luke said, skating towards the rest of the team.

Once Riley’s laces were tired, she jetted off towards the ice, landing in front of their star player. “Hi, I’m Riley. You must be Jack,” she smiled softly, hand out for him to shake, but when he never stuck out his, she retracted it quickly. “So, I heard you had a career-high last season. Sounds like a dream.”

“Yeah,” Jack grumbled, skating beside her.

“Um,” Riley bit her cheek, thinking up things to say. Jack wasn’t much of a conversationalist, she thought. “Are you more of a toe-to-heel guy or heel-to-toe?”

Tired of hearing her voice, Jack spun around, stopping Riley in her tracks. “I don’t care that you got drafted to this team. Fitzgerald, and Lindy, and everyone else in this organization are going to realize they made a mistake and send you back to wherever you came from.” Venom pricked his tongue as the words smacked Riley one by one. Even the team didn’t like her. Driving his shoulder into hers, Jack watched her face turn from shock to complete anger. “Hope you didn’t unpack your bags, rookie.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Riley stood there, unmoveable. She wasn’t going to cry. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction, prove everything he assumed about her. She wasn’t going to let him win. Closing her eyes, she breathed in, out, and thought about every way she could make Jack Hughes’ life a living hell. Dramatic, but who knew there were real devils on this team?

“Nice job out there, Dell,” Nico smiled at Riley, nudging her shoulder as they bounded into the locker room. “Don’t worry about Hughesy, he’s a softie once you get to know him.”

“If he ever gives me the chance to know him,” Riley sighed.

The game was a total train-wreck. I mean, their team won, but Riley was practically fighting for her life out there. Every single time she made it on the ice, Jack smashed her into the boards, or stole the puck from her, or never gave her the puck at all. His hate was evident and the entire team, not just team A but the entire Devils organization, could see it. How were they supposed to play an entire season together, when they could barely play one scrimmage?

“Don’t let that asshole win, Ri,” Luke stumbled into the conversation, placing his gear down by hers. Luke’s been playing with Riley for the past two years at the University of Michigan, and while they lost against Quinnipiac at the Frozen Four semifinals and Luke immediately left for the Devils after, their bond never deterred. Coming to the Devils felt like coming home (if home consisted of an egotistical jerk and a sexist media team).

Shaking her head, Riley held her practice jersey in her hands. “Promise me, that’ll be the last thing I do.”

#catching fire au #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader

131 notes · View notes

losing-dog-art · 1 month

Text

I just drafted all of this then lost it I'm going through a wall

Finished murderbot concept!!!

With bonus version with clothes 🎉

I have been making a lot of art lately (this is because I am procrastinating other things 😶)

Explanations below the cut (there was going to be a video but tumblr decided to fuck that)

So I have this old post about some head cannons for MBs appearance, but doing this full body design involved more thinking

I find it interesting that MB really only ever describes it's appearance when it's relevant to the plot/fight/scene, so anything that isn't relevant is left to our imagination. That being said:

MB says all it's inorganic parts are covered by a long sleeve shirt with a collar, pants and shoes. This means no inorganic parts on its face or hands

MB says it has no organic parts on its feet.

Slightly deeper cuts but MB mentions that it has inorganic and organic parts around its knees (I believe in exit strategy) and that it has an accessible company under its ribs (artificial condition)

People are often surprised when they see MB out of armor -- people who aren't familiar with secunits don't expect it to look as human as it does

MBs skin is canonically clear af (network effect I think)

Based on those handful of canon details, you can imagine Mb a lot of different ways -- this is great! And I've said before I think Martha Wells does this very much intentionally. So, that being said, here is some of my thoughts in this interpretation:

Based on that last point, MB looks surprisingly human. For me, this means soft facial features, eyelashes, and more organic parts than you might expect. Also, the inorganic parts are also round and nice looking -- this is partly just me thinking in a fun sci-fi way but also secunits are designed to be comforting

I've seen some people give it mechanical legs that are kind of bird-like or resemble running prosthetics. I think this is super cool and it makes a lot of sense-- those legs are basically a better form of bipedalism and let you run faster etc. BUT they would significantly change your gait. And thus be something MB considers when it is trying to pass as human. So I gave it more human feet, with the important toes and everything

I'm no expert on robotics or anatomy, but I really tried to think a little bit functionally. How would a secunit fold? How would it bend over, squat down, etc? I tried to give the look of some kind of shock system in the ankles, and conical-axis based joints. the hip area is probably the weak point in my design in this areas, idk, imagine ball bearings or something

For clothes, it's pretty straightforward. MB describes this more than a few times, but I tried to give some slightly fun sci-fi decoration bits

I tried to think about how androgyny might be generated in a silhouette in an unintentional way -- androgyny that is the result of functional design decisions and not aesthetic ones.

Idk. I had a lot of fun with this. This took about 4 hours (I've been trying not to overwork stuff lately and let the process show through) I might try and post the speed-draw video later? As a reblog perhaps. Idk Tumblr didn't like it the first time

Also a girl on bumble mentioned reading all systems red and I had to act so normal

#you have to understand these posts are like journals for me #murderbot diaries #murderbot fanart #the murderbot diaries #murderbot #secunit #artificial condition #exit strategy #network effect #art #drawing #digital art #my art #fan art #digital sketch #losing dog art tag #art process

73 notes · View notes

yanderes-galore · 2 months

Note

What about some platonic concepts for Kallamar where the reader worships him?

Tumblr crashed and annihilated my draft so guess I'll die 🤷‍♀️ I am trying again like weeks later, lol.

Yandere! Platonic! Kallamar with Follower! Darling

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Religious themes (Cults), Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Some threats, Controlling behavior, Sacrifices mentioned, Kallamar makes you sick on purpose, Jealousy, Forced companionship.

Kallamar is the most cowardly of his siblings.

He is the Bishop of Anchordeep and a harbinger of pestilence.

His followers present sacrifices to him to stay in good health.

You never liked the sacrifice aspect of The Old Faith.

Each Bishop always demanded gifts and sacrifice just so you could thrive.

If you didn't follow through... you became the next sacrifice.

No other religion is permitted, The Bishops of The Old Faith made sure of that.

You are a citizen of Anchordeep, an aquatic realm Kallamar rules over.

You do whatever you can to appease the Bishop, silently hoping he stays merciful.

You gift him crystals, gold, and food.

You tend to stay away from the sacrifice practice.

The idea of it makes you (ironically) ill....

Kallamar sees you enter his temple often.

You always come offering gifts and small chatter.

You really try not to catch the gaze of the Bishop... but when he summons you more often, your fears get worse.

Kallamar finds speaking with you refreshing, truthfully he wants a companion that isn't his siblings.

His siblings always expect things of him.

Leshy is so loud, Heket is so bossy, and Shamura is always so cryptic.

Speaking with a follower such as you makes him feel in control for once.

You are so weak compared to him, shakily giving him gifts.

Kallamar doesn't wish to hurt you, he even finds it amusing that you appear just as scared as him at times.

In a way... a feels you two are similar.

Which makes the Bishop see you as a friend and companion.

While you just wish to stay out of the way, Kallamar wishes to summon you often.

He enjoys your chatter and doesn't mind your gifts.

He often tries to keep you in his temple for as long as you can.

To the point of even bribing you to stay longer.

When you leave he even offers you a parting gift.

Kallamar seems like he'd be clingy towards you.

You're clearly his favorite follower, like it or not.

You still fear Kallamar, even when he gurgles about you and him being companions.

Kallamar could easily make you ill if you angered him.

In fact... maybe he even casts an illness on you to keep you at his temple.

He can cure you of your plague... but you have to stay with him.

Kallamar may even keep you just sick enough to make you rely on him.

You can't go to any other followers for help, no, you must stay with him.

He can ask Leshy for flowers to cure you, or just look after you himself.

But his obsession over his new "friend" mostly culminates in him just keeping you in his temple.

Staying there gives him constant access to you.

He can speak with you, meet with you, at this point he doesn't expect gifts from you anymore.

You and him (in his eyes) have a bond much more valuable than crystals and gold.

You're the best gift he could ever have.

To the point that if you ever managed to flee somehow, Kallamar would order other followers to drag you back for some sort of reward.

Other than that, any follower who tries to speak with you is usually the next sacrifice.

Kallamar is easily jealous

Kallamar would want to hold you, which is an interesting experience.

He's much larger than you and a squid... you can imagine how it feels to embrace him.

If you misbehaved him, he'd make you sicker.

Kallamar definitely uses pestilence to keep you with him.

He adores his little follower companion... the best follower in his area...

You'll never leave him.

He'll make you sick to the point you can't leave him...

Then you'll have to rely on your friend and Bishop for as long as you live.

#yandere cult of the lamb #yandere cotl #yandere kallamar #yandere bishop kallamar #platonic yandere

65 notes · View notes

iznsfw · 1 year

Note

Chaewon anal pls :3

Fancam

IZ Days of Christmas: Day 6 - Kim Chaewon

LE SSERAFIM's Kim Chaewon x Male Reader Smut

3455 words

Categories: BUTT STUFF (anal + ass eating), brat!Chaewon, cunnilingus, rough sex, spanking, mirror sex, masturbation, doggy style, fingering, squirting, inspired from how a BFH happens + dirty thoughts

I couldn't complete the initial draft, so I just combined it all together but still made it fit the story like the clever little fucker I am. Enjoy.

For @kaedespicelatte ❤

Your cock goes through more bouts of stimulation in these minutes than your other body parts have ever felt in their lives. It suffers—or rather, enjoys, the feel of your fist bobbing up and down its girth as you imagine that your hand is not actually itself, but rather, your favorite idol's cunt.

"Oh, oh, fuck! Fuck, Kim Chaewon, you're so tight!" you yell out, speaking out loud to her in spite of knowing she won't hear you.

Yes, that is her name. You have never felt more of a degenerate and a blushing schoolgirl at the same time. This fourth generation idol does things to you. She's an adorable girl, but it's inevitable to see the hot side to her. As the concepts of her group, IZ*ONE, matures along with the members, she does, too. She becomes even more attractive.

You'd close your eyes to picture her bouncing on your cock better, but that would rob you of seeing the looped muted videos playing on your computer: Chaewon sensually gyrating her ass side to side, in accordance with the choreography of the most recent IZ*ONE comeback: Panorama.

Oh, she knows what she is doing. The smug look reflecting in her eyes, her smile... no one can tell you that Chaewon doesn't know the effect she has on her fans. What, with that tight little body and ass, she can send each and every one of the fans who adore her to heaven. Hell might be a better place for you since you love to lust over this girl so much, but you don't care one bit. You'd set yourself on fire if it meant a chance with her.

In short, and to keep all those pathetic statements, you are a big fan of Kim Chaewon. Too big of a fan, you know, but it is what it is. She's too attractive of a girl to not do... this.

As the videos transition to a new outfit and new angles, you close your eyes and let your mind run wild. What if....

"Oppa, are these shorts too tight on me?"

No. Well, actually, yes. You purposely styled her navy blue shorts that way so it accents her hips and butt, to appeal to the fans. It's your job as her stylist to design good outfits for her that fit the comeback concept and also pleasure the eyes and flesh, but now, it has backfired. The plan you have made is slowly starting to take you as its victim, too.

Chaewon raises the shorts higher, smoothing her fingers on the fabric as it wraps around her tiny body. Your mouth practically waters.

Chaewon, with her dark blue hair curled and cheeks blushed, snaps her fingers in front of your face. "Hello? Hellooo? Oppa, you good?"

"Y-yeah!" you say nervously. Laugh a little at yourself because of how weak you particularly are around Chaewon. You're a professional stylist—you are blunt, but charming enough for richer customers like those from Swing Entertainment, and most importantly: professional, but cool enough for the idols to pull jokes around you.

However, you are none of those things. At least, not in front of Chaewon whom you cannot seem to put your work personality on for. You get along with Eunbi and the other members professionally just fine. Yena has even become one of your best friends. So why can you never act right around her?

"Ohhh." Chaewon draws out the word with a sense of understanding. Afterwards, she sets her hands on her hips and smiles knowingly. "You're one of them now."

"Huh? One of who?"

"One of those fans. Those fans who never want to do anything but worship my body. That's who."

You feel a little guilty now. Have you overstepped on her boundaries? Yes, it is your job to cater to IZ*ONE's male-dominated fanbase, but that does not mean you have to become like them, too. No, you only admire Chaewon in a proper manner. You like her because she is pretty and has a sweet voice, not just because of her body!

Her body that is just so hot and tight...

Chaewon leaning over one of the dressing tables and wiggling her ass is no help at all. She giggles profoundly, as if her doing that was a completely innocent thing, and smiles again. "What if," she says, and pauses, letting the suspense take over, " I let you? "

Is she serious?

You have no time to think about it. As if you were controlled by a perverted puppetmaster, you walk over and smack Chaewon's ass. She gasps deliciously, biting her lower lip, whether for more seduction or simply her libido is unknown. But you set that thought aside to take it all in: how Chaewon's buttcheek feels so soft yet firm at the same time, completely spankable; the wet spot your fingers touch on as you slap her ass and part of her center. Chaewon is as needy as she is evil, so her eyes send you a request. Without words, you understand what she wants you to do.

But foreplay is essential. Taking this into consideration, you close the distance between you till it is almost nonexistent. Her thighs feel great in your palms. You've never noticed how pretty they are before. Pale and thick, they feel like pillows beneath your touch. They are sensitive as well; Chaewon whimpers softly while you take your sweet time with them.

"Yes, I've wanted to fuck you for so long, oppa~" she confesses out of the blue. The mirror reflects your actions performed onto Chaewon's beautiful figure. Most importantly, they show her face: the makeup for the comeback performance makes her siren eyes look even more seductive. Her lips are painted a perfect ruby red. "Everytime I saw you arrange the clothes for the girls, and how passionate you are about everything, I felt so... needy. I've wanted you since the day I met you."

"That makes two of us," you chuckle softly. Kiss her back as gently as you can, somehow assuring yourself through it that you can hold yourself back from ravaging her immediately.

The day you met Chaewon enters your mind. She still uses the same perfume from that day. She had worn an adorable blue and strawberry red sailor-themed dress. You loved its design, so you had reached her, complimented her performance and how she looks in it, and asked who made it for her. When she replied that she had designed and sewn it herself, you were surprised. You already knew that Kim Chaewon is talented, but you somehow forgot that her capabilities are also strong outside of vocals and dance.

She looked adorable. You were both the same age with big dreams that were just recently attained. And now... she looks beautiful. She has always been pretty, but there is a mature side to her now. If you were to be a little more explicit... hot?

"Did you know, Chaewon, that I put a very special feature in these shorts?" you ask, grinning. Feel around her crotch area to render her moaning needily.

"Mm, and what is it?" she asks. Her eyes are closed. They flutter wide open suddenly. "Oh!"

You've inserted a finger inside her. Her wet walls tense due to the unexpected intrusion. Smirk as you explain: "I added a secret zipper. Just so I can fuck you safely whenever I get the chance."

"Mmm, oh..." Chaewon rides your finger in dizzying circles, head thrown back. And it is so much hotter to watch her in motion in the mirror—it reflects the need in her eyes, the talented sway of her hips, and most importantly, her rounded mouth when she lets out her beautiful moans. "W-what's stopping you then, oppa? Why don't you just take me?"

Quicken the wiggle of your finger inside her to reach the right spots. Chaewon gasps out girlishly, looking back at you as if she expects you to just get to it. That's how most of her fans would have done, but you are no ordinary fan of hers. You are her stylist, someone she trusts and someone she actually wants to fuck her.

"It's just so fun to tease you. Look at Chaewonie all red and blushing."

She does. She gazes in the mirror and sees her own flushed face, and becomes redder. Since when did she become this horny for anyone? There's been the occasional boy toy here and there, yet she always finds herself wanting you.

"Please, oppa," she begs, with a cherry on top. Her own cherries must have been rock hard under her bra right now. They poke through the fabric, not protrudingly enough to show an imprint, but still tweakable. They are your findings in the experiment that is "Explore Kim Chaewon: erect, yet soft tempting things that slide against your palm.

Stop fingering her for a while to smack her ass again. This time, you do not hold back. Its impact sends Chaewon's hips jerking forward. She cries out in pain, but your focus is on the way her fat ass cheeks ripples in your hand.

"Say it again," you command firmly. Your eyes seal onto the reflections of Chaewon's in the reflective glass. She whines, not knowing what to do being put in a situation like this, so you spank her again. "Say it again, Chaewon-ah."

"Oppa, can you—pretty please?—fuck my ass?"

Her words are the perfectly written code to trigger the following events: the zipper being wrung even higher, and your cock sliding up into Chaewon's asshole. The tightness is overwhelming; all the lube you've used is the natural wetness from her cunt.

Now, Chaewon arcs her back and screams. Her virginal asshole is not used to your size nor girth, but the pain only extracts more juice from her cunt. It is even wetter than from when you fingered her. She bites her lip in order to quiet herself down, but you slam into her ass harder, knocking her into the table.

"Ah! Oppa!"

"Scream louder," you command. Grasp her by the waist and start to pound her fervently. The puckered hole just grips you so well. What else can you do but let it? Hell, even make it?

Chaewon whimpers. "But what if someone hears? Oppa!" She screams again because of your cock roughly jerking to the depths of her ass, amplifying the pleasure that warms her whole body.

"Let them, they might even join in on the fun."

Chaewon considers this, and you can tell that deep inside, she has to confess that she likes the idea. Imagining someone coming in as you pound her before the mirror in the salon... it is a fantasy that she has not even considered.

She gasps as you add your fingers inside her cunt again. Her gasp turns into a wail; she's being fille din both holes simultaneously, and you are in no way being gentle. Your fingertips dig into a rougher texture, making Chaewon cry out. That is how you know you've reached her G-spot. Start to rub into that spot more and kiss her delicate neck and ears. Capture her earlobe with your teeth and increase the speed of your drills.

"Mm, ahh, fuck, oppa!" Chaewon wails needily. The penetration from both holes is becoming too much. She is just being stretched too well. All her sensitive places are being overstimulated. But she can't cum now! Not when you're jerking into her so perfectly and her mouth is lewdly slack as she watches herself in the mirror. Not when your cock stretches her tight asshole so perfectly that it is nearly agape!

"No, no, can't cum yet!" Chaewon's ass sways just like the part of the choreography you've watched for so long, again and again. "Can't cum y-yet—ahhh!"

Girl cum floods your hand like a storm. Chaewon's scream of pleasure is the thunder. The lightning speed of her body squirming and bucking into yours brings you to your orgasm, too. Her asshole has become incredibly tight despite the stretch your cock has made, wringing ribbons of cum from its tip and filling her ass with semen.

Such a shame that this has to end. You want to stay in the heavens of her ass forever.

Deftly pull out with pants that mirror Chaewon's. Her shorts are now ruined. Her creampied ass wets the fabric along with her own cum. It's filthy—you know you should be angry that her need to be ruined has done its own way of ruining the shorts you've painstakingly sewn and designed, but in that moment, you don't mind. You don't mind one bit.

That's your first orgasm for the night. Your cum has spurted all over your shorts and shirt. You are beyond exhausted; you have been wanking off to Chaewon all night, and your mind has gone to places you never knew could reach.

You can't move nor speak, so instead, you look at your desktop wallpaper of her in the background. She is beautiful—her tongue is cutely stuck out as she mimicks a Kuromi expression. A picture that is supposed to be cute suddenly gives you an idea again.

Sigh and wrap your hand back on your cock. Here we go again.

"You're just so boringgg! Why can't we do it?"

If you were a different person and were told that those words came from a five-year-old girl spoiled by overly adoring parents, you would have believed it. But you aren't a different person and Chaewon isn't five; she's twenty-fucking-two years old and your girlfriend.

It's the weekend, and Chaewon has decided, because you are home, to be brattier than ever. You know your endless scolding and spankings won't stop her because she thrives on those like a little devil with each sin you make, so you try to ignore her loud complaints as you go through your phone.

She sits on the floor, legs folded beneath her, throwing another temper tantrum. You're used to it, but it still annoys you to no end.

"Why can't we do it?" she whines, slapping your knee. "Other couples do it a lot! But you won't let me!"

You ignore her, subtly rolling your eyes and scrolling through your phone. Cool, another funny dog video. But that doesn't evoke a laugh from you; you're too riled up by Chaewon to even chuckle.

You know what she's asking from you, and you are not about to give in.

It's not that you don't want to, per se; it's that you are afraid that it might hurt her. Even if she begs for it day or night, you aren't sure you can go ahead without hurting her.

Despite Chaewon's brattiness (both in and out of your sex life), you still love her and would not want to put her in pain.

"Why can't you put it in my ass too? Are you scared?"

Yeah, that's correct: Kim Chaewon has been begging you to do anal. You know it sounds ridiculous that she has to plead for it from you, but you have your reasons.

Reasons that you are having difficulty keeping.

But you roll your eyes. Fine, you'll bite.

Place your phone down on the sofa, your eyes trained on her with a squint. "Chaewon, I'm tired of this."

"I am too!" she fires back.

"And I'm not scared, Chaewon."

"Oh? Then fuck me."

"Easy," you say, licking your lips. You are about to reach for her when Chaewon shakes her head.

"Uh-uh! You don't just fuck me…I want you to fuck me in the ass."

You should have seen that coming. The little brat.

but if she wants it that bad…

Your mind is a large fire of frustration. Your girlfriend is being the most annoying person on Earth right now, and the pent-up tension between the two of you isn't helping at all. Not one bit.

Your hands quivering, you grab Chaewon without thinking and throw her on the sofa. She screams, whether out of excitement or actual fear is unknown to you. You simply wring her panties and shorts from her legs, finally giving in after abstaining from it for so long.

"Fuck, oppa, what are you doing?" Chaewon asks. Her legs are pushes back in the air. She gasps when you blow cold air all over her pussy, and the round brown hole that has barely been used.

"Lubing you up, what else?"

Chaewon moans with pleasure when your lips connect with her lower ones. Your tongue slides over her lips, flicking her clit, and licking its sensitive form repeatedly.

Chaewon practically quivers from gratification. She lies back to enjoy your oral attack, but you aren't about to give her a gentle way in. Not at all. You grab her thighs and wildly wiggle your tongue inside her, lapping up the juices that eventually start flowing. Lick from the bottom a stripe that finishes sharply on her clit, before trying out something new.

Your tongue prods against her brown hole. "Oh!" Chaewon screams, hands on her mouth as she watches you. She loses sight of you; she can only see stars as this oddly new sensation ripples through her body. Would she like it? Or would she regret asking you to expand your horizons in bed?

Your tongue eases in through the tight hole and backs out, too. It isn't quite anything like you expected. She tastes... delicious? Her juices flow down to her peach and make it easier to eat it, adding to the delicious flavor that is and only is Kim Chaewon.

"Fuck, oppa, you eat my ass so well!" cries out Chaewon. Her asshole tightens around your tongue, but you continue to lick and lap. All the while, your nose also provides constant stimulation to her clit with unintended but welcome rubs.

Chaewon's thighs crash into your head. You actually start to run out of air. You have kept at alternating eating out her ass and pussy, have become so inmersed in eating her out that you forget yourself. Inhale sharply through your nose and let her feminine scent invade your senses, just like how your tongue does to the wet and tight cunt and her unexpectedly delicious ass. It doesn't help that Chaewon keeps wiggling her cunt in your face, forcing you to continue eating her out with no break. Your plan of not giving her rest throughout this session has backfired on you, too.

Luckily, Chaewon is close. She announces it loudly, breath catching in her throat, before she screams loudly. She suddenly tears at your hair and forces you to keep your tongue wildly wiggling in both of her holes, sliding over her erogenous zones and filling them both. It is too much for a one-guy job, and you aren't too sure you can handle it. You aren't sure if you can handle her.

You start to spank Chaewon's thighs wildly, a sign for her to back out. You fire angry slaps at her ass too, but no matter how red and sore they become, they remain around your head. She's desperate, now, but you are, too. Who will win this game? Chaewon, who is squeezing her own breasts and lying back on the sofa pillows moaning, or you—her good-for-nothing daddy?

It's obvious now. Daddies always give in. Might as well do so in a way that pleasures you, too.

Soon, Kim Chaewon is upside-down. She is slobbering all over your cock, diligently blowing its girth, while you give your all into eating her cunt out. You groan; you forgot how good she is at giving you head. Such a pity you are out of breath to praise her. At least your hips are diligently knocking into that cute little face, causing her to gag wildly.

Wow.

You are stunned at the thoughts your own mind can create. The clarity of it all makes your nth orgasm less intense. Although you have had your head full of thoughts about Kim Chaewon—her bending over and letting you take her ass, and her being bratty as you eat her out—only one thought remains clear:

I should become a smut writer.

You have read them before, and it is possibly that which has led to all this feral feelings over Chaewon. You have fantasized a lot before, but you have never actually considered writing them down or posting them.

Perhaps you could—no, you should—write them down. Maybe someone out there will like them enough. Tumblr is always a good place to start.

Determined, you wipe yourself down and clean your place up. You log into your barely touched Google Documents account, add a fresh new document, and start to write.

672 notes · View notes

foreverrogers · 2 years

Note

Okay because I'm feeling quite angsty, can you please write one for Peter accidentally triggering reader's anxiety/panic attack after he raises his voice in an argument or something? Like he doesn't know she grew up in an environment where screaming matches were a common occurrence in her household, so she gets triggered and he tries to maybe comfort her (getting her meds, helping her breathe, etc).

this is such a deliciously angsty idea, thank you sm for requesting!! this ask got swallowed in my drafts for like a month i am so sorry anon 😭

"That's not what I meant!"

Peter sounds angry. He looks angry, too, his face flooding with a subtle pink as he flushes with the emotion of it. He's rummaging around the room, upturning baskets of laundry and harshly rearranging bags and digging through the covers of the bed in search of his mask.

He hadn't even been yelling, far from the screaming that had coloured the long nights of your youth, bundled under the blankets and music blasted as high as your headphones would allow as you attempted to drown out whatever argument was unfolding in the other room.

It had been a long time now since things had been like that, a version of life before Peter had given you quiet sanctuary in his own. The gentleness you had found here was maybe why him raising his voice had made you go quiet across the room. Each sharp, rigid movement makes you flinch.

Peter's angry. And you had made him angry. After everything he's done for you, and you had said something stupid, something out of place, and you had made him angry. "Okay."

He doesn't seem to notice how small your voice is when you speak, or the fact that you've hunched your shoulders, quickly attempting to fold back into yourself, trying to take up as little space as possible, to stay out of his way like he clearly wanted you to.

You don't even really remember what you had been fighting about, because right now you're too busy trying to stop yourself from shaking, starts right in the centre of your chest and seeps through your bloodstream like a poison until your teeth are chattering and your fingers are trembling.

Your legs are carrying you to the bathroom before you have time to crumble in the middle of the bedroom. You choose flight, always, indubitably, every time.

The slam of the door behind him seems to snap Peter out of it, finally turning in search of you to find the room unnervingly empty, still, quiet, silence blooming through the buzzing energy of the argument before. He feels his chest get heavy, that deep sinking feeling that plants a hungry pit deep in his gut, makes his ears ring and his teeth clench. He had upset you. After all the peace and gentle love you had brought into his life, and he had been stupid enough to upset you.

"Y/n..."

You hear the jiggle of the handle first, the one you had been lucid enough to lock in your escape. You didn't need him seeing you like this, after all of that, hunched against the side of the tub with your knees hugged to your chest and your cheeks stained with fresh tears, an undoubtable artefact of the weakness you always tried to hide in front of him.

There's a light thud against the bathroom door, and you can tell by the shadow slipping beneath it that he's slumped against it, can imagine him sitting with the back of his head against the surface. He doesn't sound so angry anymore, concern laced in his tone. "I shouldn't have raised my voice at you like that. I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry, just please let me in."

You don't move to get up, simply squeeze your eyes shut and dig your face further into your knees, take a slow, shuddering breath you hope he can't hear through the door.

You hear him say something you can't quite make out, and then the next second there's a harsh snap that rings through the bathroom, flimsy metal pieces clattering to the tiled floor as Peter pushes his way in.

Your head snaps up at the sound, and you don't have time to protest the state of your broken bathroom door before Peter's on his knees and his arms are wrapping around your shoulders.

He pulls you against him, presses his face into the crook of your neck and slots your bodies together, a reminder of the certainty of your twin force in the universe, two people made for each other no matter what.

You repeat his movements, arms wrapped tightly around his neck in an instant. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you I just-"

"Are you kidding me?" Peter's pulling back, taking your face in his hands, the pinch of his eyebrows harsh and heart-shattering. "I didn't mean to upset you, honey. You have nothing to apologise for, it's my fault, all my fault."

"No, it's-"

Peter kisses you, shuts you up before you can pin anymore of this on yourself, kisses you sweet and salty and guilty. He feels warm and familiar against your lips and in your arms, steady and enduring, tangibly, achingly lovely. "No patrol tonight, okay? We'll stay in, just the two of us."

His thumb is at your cheek, rubs so gently and so soothingly back and forth that you have to close your eyes and lean into his touch before you can speak. "Doesn't the city need you?"

Peter smiles at you, small and fond as he moves to rest his forehead against yours. "I think the city'll last one night while I show my best girl just how much I love her."

You're quiet for so long he thinks he must have upset you again, has to pull away to properly look at you and finds you smiling up at him softly. "Your best girl, huh?"

"'Course you are, my best girl," He laughs, light and feather-soft as the hand at your cheek slowly slips down to tilt up your chin, thumbs at your bottom lip and feels the plump skin curve under his touch as your smile widens. "My only girl, always."

1K notes · View notes

tzov · 1 year

Text

I saved this as a draft for a long time but I want to share it now:

Boys and men in sports humiliate and injure to prevent girls and women from "encroaching" on what they consider their domain.

I've tried to talk about this many times in my life, and I always get the, "you just can't handle competition, you just expect me to go 'easy,' on you, you're just whiny/weak/holding up the game, this is unavoidable" when it was extremely obvious to me that I was being maliciously targeted by boys in an attempt to humiliate me, not in an attempt to simply win the game.

I recognize common threads between complex individual experiences:

-That the excess violence was CLEARLY not necessary to win;

-That it was done to me/other girls and not boys of a comparable size/skill (or, often, lesser size/skill);

-That it would occur when I was not that great of a threat i.e., they would spend the whole CASUAL game focused on shutting me down even though a lot else was going on; and then, when it was serious and we were actually trying, we would be having fun, getting rough, and then when I was up, the clear moment of a DECISION (with a petulant gleam in the eye) to make it unfun by SUDDENLY kicking/slapping/shoving me EXCESSIVELY hard (in a way I could not prepare for as it had no precedent in the game), PURPOSELY (this is not hard to tell) hurling the ball as hard as they can at my head while I'm not looking, etc. (and this was often on top of disproportionate, unsportsmanlike ridicule/taunting, i.e., condescending/disgusted/impatient that I never saw boys do to each other, instead of the fun shit-talking that I DO understand is part of sport);

-In situations where they would not allow me to play (i.e., ignore me completely as a teammate, refuse to assign me a role, etc.), because they ASSUMED I couldn't before I could prove otherwise, and then when I insist, instantly hurting me on purpose so I still never get a chance to show that I am skilled/competitive;

-And finally, it was ALWAYS in conjunction with specific comments about my femaleness, or comments about how I'm overconfident/need to be taught a lesson (and I would not include this point if I were bragging about my skills or messing up the game, I can tell if I'm holding up a competition).

In the end, all of this DOES result in my being less practiced and skilled, which serves as an ad hoc justification for it

In my memories, it seems like they are angry that a girl has the audacity to try, because nothing is more hammered into our heads than, "girls are weak and it's unthinkable to lose to them or take them seriously." Just because women can't compete with men at certain high level sports obviously does not mean that every individual girl will lose to every individual boy--- and it's so important for me to tell the difference that I am very thoughtful about whether it's "rowdy crazy high level man stuff--" I've never been interested in participating in that because it's scary and feels pointless.

As a lifelong athlete, I also have a lot of experience with accidentally getting hurt, with "intimidation" as a legitimate strategy, with making a beginner player quit because they obviously don't belong in your game; but these are all ways boys will try to pass off their cruelty.

It's also worth noting that boys my age were UNABLE to physically overpower me until about age 14, and all of this still happened (though it happened a lot more after that). I know that sometimes girls can hold up games and be overconfident and I can imagine that would be annoying. But sport is so important to me, and this pain is so deep, and I've been told these things all my life, so there's no way I would not be looking out for such nuance.

For most girls, it really only takes the one experience for them to never try again. For me, I BELIEVED people for a long time that I just needed to accept that things get competitive and rough-- and that's why I put myself through it over and over, only to find that something else, something far more sinister, was clearly at play.

In summary, men and boys are actively unsportsmanlike and unnecessarily cruel to girls and women who want to try to build skill and compete in various sports, and this is nothing to do with biological differences-- just misogyny.

#women in sports #title ix #misogyny in sports #radical feminist safe #og

210 notes · View notes

bunnyreaper · 6 months

Note

SOOOO I am in a sapppy sappy mood so bare with me!)

Imagine Price having grown up with a fairly kind and sweet little lass who was as gentle as they come. Nurturing was just in her nature. And despite having the strength of a burnt toothpick,she always stuck up for those in harms way. Imagine this sweet girl (who he may or may not have been sweet on) one day suddenly leaving the town they were in due to becoming fairly sickly and needing better treatment,all he has to remember her by is a single green ribbon and a small letter written on a sticky note.

Imagine years have passed and he and his team are on a mission to clear out some terrorists from a hospital,and suddenly there she is. Still frail and weak physically but trying to protect a sick child who was left behind in the rush to evacuate,weilding an IV pole like its a sword.

Imagine the rush of emotions he feels as HIS ANGEL is in danger and one wrong move will mean loosing her forever.

Imagine afterwards once the threat is neutralized and she and the child are safe,he reconnects with her,talking with her and catching up,assuring her that while Yes,he got shot,he was shot in his Bullet proof vest,that she needs to rest and not worry about him.

Imagine Price having her meet his team,his boys,and some of them refer to her as "Missus Price" as a way to both tease and encourage their captain to Ask.Her.Out already!

Imagine she moves in with him and he spends a weekend fixing a draft thats been in the house for decades,imagine he cuts down his smoking and drinking so she wont worry about his health. Imagine they start dating and she brings him so much joy.

ugh just super sappy rn

The best way to start the day, thank you!! ❤️

#bunny mail #i will try catch up on more asks later #then ill be turning my ask box off at lunch!#come join the discord 👉👈?

65 notes · View notes

sixth-light · 7 months

Text

WoT 2x08 thoughts

WoT s2 really, I haven't got to blog the season like I would have wanted because (checks notes) everybody in this household has been sick for a month and counting (do not recommend). No order here, just things as I think of them, full series book spoilers possible:

They really did stick the landing on this season for me, as well as line everything up so neatly for next season. I think S2 is really going to reward a rewatch.

Particularly re:Lanfear. I literally choked when she walked up to Bayle Domon and started talking about the pieces of cuendillar she'd sold him. I know the Dark Prophecy is probably still legit because we flashed back to Ishamael reciting it as he released her BUT ALSO I am now imagining her lying on her bed surrounded by screwed-up drafts as she tries to make it sufficiently ominous.

The Forsaken shenanigans this season have just smashed it out of the park and we only had two of them. I presume we're going to highlight one or two a season for practical purposes (and ofc TSR/TFoH are the Moghedien-Nynaeve books) so I reckon next season we mostly get Moghedien and...I guess Asmodean if we're doing that plotline at all?

Man I so liked my "evil Seanchan/less evil Seanchan" theory but the way they ruthlessly killed off every named Seanchan character this episode (yes we didn't see Suroth and Alwhin's bodies, but that seemed pretty fatal, they explicitly did NOT show any ships getting away) says to me that they want to put that plotline on ice until the Corenne and Tuon arrive. It could still work but we'd have to introduce more Seanchan nobles to make it happen...or...they could make the whole Extremely Dysfunctional Imperial Family dynamic real by having one or more of Tuon's siblings tag along. That was a very tell-not-show element of the books and then rendered irrelevant by Semirhage murdering all of them at once.

Extremely out-there theory: the way they're focusing on Moghedien being 'insane' and having Lanfear refer to the rest of the Forsaken as 'the boys' and being visibly wary of Moggy...what if they merge Moghedien and Semirhage? After all, Moggy goes after the Sad Bracelets first even if Semirhage is the one who uses them...

THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP as that gifset going around demonstrates, this really was the theme of the season. I continue to love how much these kids love each other (and the lingering fear the show has planted that it won't matter, because look where Lews Therin and Ishamael and Lanfear ended up...). Totally bought that they would all just roll with running into each other like that when there was a clear and present threat.

Rand is still so much in his 'just trying to protect my friends' era, poor kiddo, we're going to see that get more and more worn away as the Pattern forces him into bigger and bigger confrontations.

MAT, goddamn, his story took a bit of time to get moving but looking back all the pieces are there. Everything about the knife-on-a-stick sequences was just. fjlkfsdjklfsadjlkfsd. Amazing foreshadowing AND a funny and effective piece of storytelling in the moment. Particularly enjoyed the use of the dagger to open the box with the Horn.

Re: Min's vision: I'm thinking that at some point next season someone will report back to her what actually happened and we're going to see an arc with her learning about her own power and realising that her visions can be partial or metaphorical.

Man I hope Egwene gets lots of nice things next season because this one has been (not unexpectedly) brutal. Completely on board with her killing Renna. I wonder if they're getting rid of the 'sparker/learner' distinction in the show, given what she said to Renna about sul'dam just being very weak in the Power. I also wonder what 'very weak' actually means coming from Egwene, who canonically in the show can hold up against a Forsaken for some length of time (another change I am fine with).

Fascinating to think about Perrin in 2x08, straight-up killing Geofram Bornhald for killing Hopper, vs Perrin in 1x08 deliberately choosing pacifism. I don't actually mind that they gave him some unquestionable culpability here; in the books it was always SO obvious he wasn't in the wrong that it felt silly.

Relatedly, I think what's going on with Nynaeve (to the extent that anything is, she certainly didn't suffer for screentime this season) is that like Perrin her PERSONAL plot actually stalls out around book 8-9 - they're slowburning her block storyline for the same reasons they're slowburning his Wolfbrother one, I reckon. I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't heal stilling until much later in the show than the equivalent of book 6.

I didn't even notice that we left all the White Tower-related plotlines behind entirely this episode until I got to writing this post. FASCINATED to see where we pick up with Verin, Alanna, Siuan, et al next season...not to mention Liandrin

I haven't even talked about Aviendha! She hasn't had a lot to do beyond be introduced/introduce the concept of the Maidens and the Car'a'carn but it was solid set-up for next season and in line with how much she actually had to do in TDR.

My one big lingering question for this season is whether Ingtar isn't a Darkfriend on the show or whether he IS and they decided that his verbal confession wouldn't happen/work in the show and left it as a subtextual easter egg for book readers. I think both positions are arguable from the text, I'm curious what the intent was.

#wheel of time #wot tv show #wot s2 spoilers #wot book spoilers

35 notes · View notes

meetinginsamarra · 5 months

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

I've been tagged by @totallysilvergirl and @calaisreno TYSM!!

1. How many works do you have on A03?

51 in total

12 "real" fics and 21 ficlets and 18 covers (I didn't know how to embed on AO3 back then)

2. What's your total A03 word count?

271.977

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Sherlock BBC

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Mutual Attraction , Learn My Scars, The toe that didn´t belong, The embers still glow when I´m sober , Gravity is missing from everything

The last three are in fact a series called Here I Am

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Of course! Always and quickly. I love comments, they make my day and fill me with happiness for hours. Not kidding!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None of my fics end angsty. Some of my ficlets might, possibly Time

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

They all end happily.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

There had been a few very weird comments on "Mutual Attraction" that were rude or offensive. Some had been deleted by the cowards who posted them later.

9. Do you write smut?

Yes, I have written porn and enjoyed it. I also write gen and everything in between. Depends on the story.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No, because I define "crossover" as a mix of two existing universes, like Sherlock x Star Trek for example. I have written several AUs though. Alternate Universes with the same characters of my show but placed somewhere else.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have been offered three times but declined because I personally am not comfortable with it.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Johnlock

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have this fairy tale AU sitting in my drafts for literal years. 20k written and several attempts to take it up again, it is mostly plotted but just resists being finished. *sigh*

16. What are your writing strengths?

Learning by doing, I guess? I think of myself that I am versatile. Maybe writing movie-like action scenes. I remember that's been said in comments.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I honestly do not know. (Which is not me saying I can do everything perfectly!! I just try whatever I want.) Finishing the above mentioned fic possibly.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If it fits the story, why not? I write in English which is not my native language, so I could do German and some French and Italian, too.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Sherlock BBC.

I've actually never written anything before I started with Sherlock fanfic. I got this idea and it grew and I began to write it down just for me so that I would not forget it. Then I thought, why not write it into a fic? I've been reading a lot fanfic already. Over the course of two years (writing on and off) the idea had turned into a 94k fic. I only started posting "Mutual Attraction" when it was completed on AO3.

I still think it's funny because just imagine this. Never wrote a word of fiction before, not even in my native language. Then, first thing I produced is a novel-length fic written directly in English. Still seems surreal to me.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I love all of my babies and will not choose a fave one. There are only faves in categories.

"Mutual Attraction" was my first and longest fic.

"Wretched and Divine" was the one that made me find my dear friend and beta @peageetibbs

Technically, I am most proud of pulling off "Learn My Scars" because it is 38k written under a huge amount of pressure due to daily posting for Whumptober 2022. Five weeks of intense writing madness but very rewarding, too.

AU and plot-twist wise it would be "The 13th Book ".

---------

So many people have done this but I think @shiplocks-of-love @shelleysprometheus @cumbercurlygirl have not been tagged yet. And anybody else who wants to share, please.

#20 questions for fic writers #my sherlock fanfics #meetinginsamarra #meet_me_in_samarra on AO3

22 notes · View notes

spidercookie18 · 6 months

Text

𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕃𝕆𝕊𝕋 𝔹𝕆𝕐𝕊 ℍ𝔼𝔸𝔻ℂ𝔸ℕ𝕆ℕ𝕊

TLB YCRYCH AU: Origins

The boys’ origin stories: how they met, where they were born, how old they are, and who they were before they died.

I am going to leave the years born a little vague, I like to imagine them a bit older than they are in the movies so there’s some discrepancies in the years.

Warnings: Death, mild gore, general violence, substance abuse, talks of suicide, loss of family, loss of children, this is seriously not for the feint of heart. MINORS DNI

David – Born 1840's, Montreal, Canada. His father and mother met while he was abroad in Canada. She got pregnant, and his father promised to return to her but never did. So, it was just her and David while he was a human. He’d watch her work odd jobs to make ends meet, and he tried to help when he could. She raised him not to be a beggar and to work for his meals. She was kind and courteous, and so was he. She got sick when he was still little, and before he was 10, she’d passed. He was the first to find her, and the only thing he can remember about her was she had curly hair. She’d arranged for him to go stay with his aunt and uncle down in the states. He left with his few possessions, and a box his mother told him not to open until he was 13. His aunt and uncle lived near modern day Amarillo, Texas. They were strict, and not nearly as kind as his mother had assured him, they’d be. They had him work as a farm hand; it was tough work. His hands became calloused, his back ached most days, and he resented his father for abandoning him. When David turned 13, he opened the box. It was a drawing of his mother and his father, a death certificate, and a medal. He realized his mother knew he was never coming back, and for a long time he couldn’t understand she did it to spare his feelings. He began to hide his feelings, and to keep his mind off his family, he took up gunslinging. His uncle taught him, and when he realized David had a talent for it, he tried to convince him to become a Texas Ranger.

David became a crazy good gunslinger and misses his time as a cowboy, which is why he still wears boots with spurs. He wanted to try and do right by his mother and father, so he wore the medal under his coat. He kept it with him always and tried to be a good man and help people. Because he was a young man at the time, he was drafted into the Civil War. You can imagine he fought for the union or the confederate, it doesn't matter, wasn't his war and he didn't want to fight. His allegiance was to his comrades and to not dying on the battlefield. David considered marrying just so he wouldn't be drafted, but he ended up on the frontline before he could weasel his way out. The other soldiers in the barracks became his brothers. He struggled being constantly surrounded by the dead and dying, and he felt sick watching the other men around him die, which is why he is so fiercely loyal to protecting his brothers now. David for sure has PTSD, and sometimes he still has nightmares about it, though one, if not all, of the other boys is always nearby and comfort him. He thought of his family during this time, how his father would have gone through the same feelings during war; he always felt like a coward for not wanting to die. During one battle he got shot in the stomach, he was brought to the medical tent and with the doctors being overwhelmed, there was little they could do but ease his pain as he died. Sweating, pale, and weak he saw a tall doctor walk in. On his deathbed is where he met Max, but he was so delirious from opium and morphine that he thought Max was his father. Max read his thoughts, and when David called out to him, calling him ‘father’, Max decided he was the one he’d turn. Max only saved David, over all the other dying men in the tent. The first few years after he was turned, David still tried to help people. He thought he could help his fellow soldiers in the barracks, or people on the streets. Sadly, wherever he tried to help, it was thrown back in his face. He soon saw the worst in people, he saw the horrors that hate could make them do, and he let that break down his spirit. Over the years, David accepted his fate, and they moved around the country as he was raised up a vampire. Max wanted to start a few businesses across the country so they would have plenty of money through the years, and that’s how David came to meet the other boys.

Marko - Born 1880's, Florence, Italy. His family immigrated to America when he was little. He was one of the younger children, and because of this he was allowed to misbehave and be mischievous. He came from a big family, many brothers and sisters and they settled around Boston, Mass. Being from a poor immigrant family he learned how to sew and do patchwork from his mother. How to fix his clothes and make them last. Marko and his Italian family were very involved in the church, and he was an altar boy when he wasn’t out causing problems. He for sure was a menace around the neighborhood and used to fight with upper-class/uppity kids who were racist or xenophobic to him, his family, and his culture. You can imagine him sitting on the kitchen table while his mother pressed frozen meat to his black eye, “sei troppo selvaggio anche per il diavolo” she would scold him, and he would laugh.

He has one of the sadder backstories, fair warning. Marko lost his family to a house fire, most of the block burned down actually and he lost all the people he knew. He was the only one to survive because he was out causing problems at the time. When he came back, he saw the fire and didn't have the strength to drag anyone out. He always blamed himself for their death, maybe if he hadn’t been out, or had he come back sooner he could have saved them, or anyone. Marko was able to find a few things from the rubble and he kept them wherever he went. Marko stopped going to church during this time. He bumbled around the streets and alleyways for some time after this and used to make money in street fights; but he always prayed for death. One cold winter night, David and Max happened upon him. When David first saw Marko, he didn't realize it was a person. He just saw the mismatched patchwork moving around and thought it was rats under newspaper or something like that. He heard Marko’s thoughts, praying to someone in a language he didn’t understand. ‘Mi dispiace mamma, ma fa così freddo. Ti prego, non vedo l'ora di vederti...’ David begged Max to save him and refused to leave his side - he actually threw a huge fit and made a spectacle in the alleyway until Max agreed to help the boy. Fun fact, Marko's jean jacket is actually David's jacket that he wrapped him in the first night they met. if you can call that fun, and can read this between your tears :)

Dwayne - Born 1900's, St. Petersburg, Russia. He was already a young man when Max, David, and Marko strolled into town. He was engaged to his childhood sweetheart, and she had a bun in the oven. Dwayne and his brother were raised by their grandmother. His parents immigrated from Russia to New York, but they got sick and did not survive the travel. Dwayne was the only one in his family that did not get sick, and he took care of his brother until he passed when he was a teen. His grandmother made sure that he remembered his culture, and where he came from. The other families in the town were not kind to Dwayne and his brother and grandmother for this reason. No matter how much they beat him, he still stood tall. There was one person who was kind to them, no matter what. A girl Dwaynes age, she came from a rich family and always told him stories of her grandfather’s travels. She used to call him ‘her Jaguar’, because when he would fight, he would send the other kids to the hospital. When his grandmother passed, his sweetheart was the last family he had. He shared his culture with her, and her family disowned her when they found out she was to be wed to him. Her and Dwayne didn’t care though, even if the whole town was against them being together, they were still gonna do it. Sure, they had to deal with mean comments, snide remarks in store and in town, or once when men tried to corner Dwayne in an alley after work, but they were set on being together. He was head over heels for her, and when she got pregnant, he spent all his money on things for her and for their future baby. She actually would have to scold him for buying her so many things, saying he was too frivolous, but he wanted to spoil her. She always told him he needed to save his money, and he would call it “their money.” She hated that he would never spend money on himself; and when she said she wanted to buy him a new jacket, or boots he would laugh, saying that he wasn’t cold, that he was actually hot. Dwayne was a carpenter, or a masoner, something where he would get to use his strength to work, and work he did. He wanted to make sure life was comfortable for his new family, so he did overtime wherever he could. She was so round, and when the doctor told them they would actually be having twins, Dwayne thought his heart would burst from his chest. One night he was coming home late, as usual, excited to press his ear to her belly and listen to the heartbeats of his unborn children. He returned home to find the door to their home not fully shut. His heart sank when he saw her on the floor, pale skin and covered in blood. A group of men in town had enough of them, they decided a simple message wasn’t enough. They were going to stop them one way or another. Dwayne didn’t care about the broken glass on the floor, or how some of their things were missing. No, they stole from him the one thing he cared about, and he cursed himself for not being there to protect her, to protect his family. He clung to her limp body and wailed into the night. Dwayne knew exactly who’d done it, and they locked him up for trying to confront them. When he got out, he tried to drink himself to death, and stumbling around in the dark of night, he happened upon a tall man with glasses. He was sure the man before him was death, come to drag him to hell. But instead, the man spoke, he asked Dwayne if he wanted revenge on the ones who took his life from him. Drunkenly, stupidly, he said yes. He got his revenge, but Dwayne hated Max for keeping him from death. Sure, his love was avenged, but he would forever be kept from her now. He kept the red flag she wore as a scarf around her hair in his back pocket. Now, whenever he saw a child, he thought of her, and the babies he would never get to hold…

Paul – Born 1930’s, Green Bay, Wisconsin. Paul loved his little sister; he did everything he could to make her feel safe and keep her happy. When she smiled, she looked just like their mother, and he missed her so. Their father was a drunk, to say the least. He was always standoffish, but when their mother died, he really fell off the deep end. His father always took it out on them because they ‘looked so much like her’ especially his sister. Paul did what he could to keep him off her back, and took the brunt of the beatings when their father couldn’t put the bottle down. Paul took to sleeping in her room with the mattress against the door, so he couldn’t get near her. His father would say horrible things to them, and when they cried, he would tell them he wished they’d killed themselves instead of her. Often times, they would go visit with their grandparents, at least that was a place they could get warm food. Paul was embarrassed for people to know what was happening in their home, so, they hid it from people. Paul took jobs where he could, raking leaves, shoveling driveways, and when he was old enough, he took a job at the movie theater to help pay for things for him and his sister. Because of this, he would let his sister sit in the theatre after school so she wouldn’t have to go home. Him and her would often sit in the lobby, behind the concession counter, or in the ticket booth so he could help her with her homework. More often than not, she ended up helping him with his homework. He always promised to take her away from there. He would read her magazines about what California was like, and she joked how he was meant to be a ‘surfboard rider’. When Paul had scraped up enough money for himself, he bought some cheap gear and tried out for hockey. He made the team, and his grandparents and his sister would cheer him on. He was damn good at it too, and it was a great way for him to get his frustrations out. He bought his sister a pair of skates for her 13th birthday, and he took her skating on the frozen lake behind their house. He’d warned her never to go on the ice without him around, but one day when he was late getting home from work she went out on her own. He told her to wait for him in the lobby, but she wanted to go skate. There weren’t any movies playing that she was interested in, so she headed home. She grabbed her skates from home and passed her dad on the way out the door. She told him Paul was out there with her and got on the ice. When Paul got home, his father asked how long he intended to keep his sister skating outside. Paul rushed to the back yard, and clung to the wire fence, the hole in the dead center of the lake let him know…

He left home soon after that. She was the last thing keeping him there, and he couldn’t take his father blaming him for her death. He tried to hitchhike to California, he took her teddy bear with him so that she could go to. They never did manage to get her body out from under the ice, at least not while Paul was there. He got caught in a blizzard in Salt Lake City, Utah around Christmas, and he snuck inside a hotel for warmth. Max had left the boys to their own devices for the night, God knows he’d grown tired of their shenanigans, and Dwayne was doing everything in his power to fuck with him. With the money they’d snagged from people on their ‘tour’ across the states, the boys were in a nice hotel lobby, causing a ruckus. Marko noticed a hand pop up from behind a counter and snatch some food. He went to investigate and found a dirty, grimy looking Paul. Marko opened his mouth to say something, but Paul begged him not to tell anyone. Marko invited him to join them for the night and Paul explained that he was trying to get to California, and why he had the bear. He thanked them when they didn’t laugh and cried when they offered to help him get there. David looked into his soul, he saw the same pain they all held, and decided then and there that he would be their brother.

The boys have been inseparable ever since.

#the lost boys #tlb 1987 #the lost boys 1987 #tlb david #tlb marko #tlb #tlb dwayne #tlb paul

29 notes · View notes

smalls-words · 2 years

Text

Cyborgs Have Hearts, Right?

Summary: Wanda and Natasha love a cyborg, you, until they don’t. But they just don’t realise how much they’ve lost you by betraying you. (my summaries suck when I’m sick)

Pairings: WandaNat x Fem!Cyborg!Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: plane crashes, Bruce being an asshole in Avengers 2012, my shitty writing of trying to get through different movies in one fic, self-harm (forcefully not sleeping, doing other things that I can’t say otherwise they’ll spoil the ending).

Requested: YES/no

A/N - So this got a little bit out of hand, and wild. I normally wouldn’t write cheating but I had a bad mental health day the other day so I wrote this partially then and I wanted it out of my drafts. Have fun getting your hearts ripped out 😁

*not my gifs*

You never would have imagined you’d meet Natasha and Wanda, being a cyborg. Well, part cyborg. I get how that’s confusing, so I’ll explain. And no, you weren’t from HYDRA or the Red Room.

You were from SHIELD.

The process of your transformation from brutally injured by a plane crash to a peak-performance cybernetically-enhanced human was long. They had to replace most of your body, powered by the Tesseract, and almost lost you twice. Half of your face was turned into metal, your limbs and almost your entire torso was turned into moulding, ever-evolving vibranium, the magic of the Tesseract copying the properties of Captain America’s shield to create you.

For a while, you were isolated as your brain tried to piece your personality back together. Missions were easy, you didn’t have to do much, but as your mind came back, you were placed in a medical bed.

You watched as the people coming through the door were familiar. The redhead’s hairstyle was a short and curled bob, whilst her piercing green eyes immediately captured your mind’s attention.

“N… Natasha… Natasha Romanoff.” You stated that day, making her smile as she leaned in and hugged you tightly.

“Hi, Y/N/N.”

“Tasha!” You hugged her back gently before the whole explanation of what you went through was given by Natasha and Fury.

Afterwards, you were sent on your first mission as a part of the new team of Avengers. You sat next to Natasha in the pilot seat, your hands on your thighs until she reached over and took your right hand.

“Are you okay, detka?”

“I am not a baby.” You grumbled, the Russian immediately translating in your head.

Natasha chuckled whilst you sat calmly with her hand holding yours before she landed the jet and you stood with her.

“No, Y/N, you need to stay here with the agents.” She put a hand on your chest.

You took another step forward and were surprised when she was able to push you back. “No, Y/N, stay.”

You sighed shortly and stopped pushing against her, the comms directly linking with your cyborg body as she stepped into the small hut. You watched the child she paid run out of the hut before returning minutes later, a man following behind her.

“Dr. Bruce Banner, also known as: The Hulk. Highly dangerous.” Your cyborg mind reported and you watched as your hand turned into a plasma cannon.

“No! No, no, no, Tasha is in there!” You growled to your arm, pushing it down.

“Disabling plasma cannon.”

You sighed in relief as your hand returned, focusing on the words floating in through the comms.

“What does Fury want me to do, swallow it?” Bruce stated, the bug planted on the table making his voice loud and clear.

“He wants you to find it. It’s been taken. It emits a gamma signature that’s too weak for us to trace. There’s no-one that knows gamma radiation like you do. If there was… that’s where I’d be.” Natasha responded.

“So Fury isn’t after the monster?”

“Not that he’s told me.”

“And he tells you everything?”

A moment of silence let your eyes adjust and you could see their heartbeats, Natasha’s steady whilst Bruce’s was beating fast. You looked down at your chest as it glowed blue, getting brighter and brighter as you watched Bruce’s heartbeat climb.

“Talk to Fury, he needs you on this.”

“He needs me in a cage?”

“STOP LYING TO ME!”

A flash of light surrounded you and when your eyes adjusted, you stood in front of Natasha with a gun pointing at your chest. You could see the hurt in her eyes as they watered, suddenly focused on your chest as the clothes you had on were gone, melted from the teleportation.

“I’m sorry, that was mean.” Bruce apologised from behind you but you didn’t pay him any attention.

Instead, you cupped Natasha’s cheeks and brought her eyes to yours, your smooth metallic thumb caressing her soft skin. “Tasha… Ty v poryadke. (You’re okay.) I’m here.” The Russian melted off of your lips and brought her back to the real world, making you smile lightly until you faced Bruce.

“Do that again and I will have no problem plasma-blasting you.” You growled.

“Stand down. We’re good here.” Natasha reported into the comms and you watched the heartbeats of the agents around you back away.

“Just you and me, huh?” Bruce smirked, but a glare from you shot it down.

“Escort for Bruce Banner. Keep him in a different jet.” You ordered, watching a few agents take Bruce to the nearby jet whilst you took Natasha.

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖🜃🜂🜁🜄⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

A few weeks later, you remembered Natasha’s love for you and you accepted her back easily. Whilst your body may have been made of metal, your heart and mind were not so easily destroyed.

And because of this love, you followed her orders to stay away from the Avengers as they fought Ultron in the later years.

Until Fury dragged you into their mess.

“Cyborg, we’ve got a carrier going down!” Maria yelled at you from across the room and you teleported outside the window, the heels of your feet turning into thrusters that guided you to catch the carrier and slot it into the side of the bigger ship.

You landed in the church of the floating province of Sokovia once finished, punching and blasting your way through a wave of Ultron Sentries. You smirked as Clint caught your eye, a beautiful brunette woman standing next to him.

“What’s up, Metallica?” He jeered and your sensors didn’t fail to tell you that she was looking at you.

“Where’s Tasha?” You asked, only to hear the loud rumble of a bulldozer come towards you.

You smiled widely as she jumped out, jogging in to see you standing there with your arms wide open.

“What are you doing here?! I told you to stay away!” She huffed, hugging you anyways.

“You said stay with Fury. Fury came here.” You shrugged, kissing her temple before you saw a body of metal float in the air.

Ultron.

“What’s up, asshole?! Got anything else for me to play with?!” You smirked, punching your fist into your palm.

Unlike the others, your grin didn’t falter as more Sentries piled up, your hands turning into plasma cannons.

“Holy shit.” You heard behind you, a blonde man in sleek sportsgear.

“Thanks, bro.” You chuckled, looking back at Ultron’s army as they charged towards you.

You immediately hit them with a large blast, desecrating a whole line of them in one go. Your arms changed and you shot out bolts of heat, much like Tony’s repulsors, except yours were much more powerful. Anything they touched instantly melted, making your target practice increasingly fun.

After a short time that felt like a freaking aeon, you ripped out the core of the last Sentry for the wave, smirking as you crushed it between your fingertips.

“Have fun without me, my love?” You asked Natasha, watching her eyes roll.

“You stay here with the core. We can’t all breathe as we get higher and higher, but you can.” She smirked, poking at your exposed gears.

“Hey! That’s like me touching your organs!” You blocked her hands but still let her poke you a bit, knowing that this was how she relieved stress.

“Is not!” She chuckled, shoving you lightly.

“You good?” Steve asked you and you gave him a metallic thumbs up.

“Go on, get out of here.” You smirked at him, Clint and your girl, watching them split off as you sat on the sandstone steps.

Your sensors fired whenever a Sentry got close, but the sound of boots without the sensors firing made you wary. You stood up quickly and turned around, only to see that brunette woman again.

“Oh. Hi.” You murmured, looking down to see your body evolve.

Small metallic sheets, the size of nanites, covered your ‘organs’ and you smirked as they changed colour. “Guess I have clothes now.” You chuckled to yourself.

“You are… quite a sight.” She stated, jumping as your arm faced behind you and hit a Sentry.

“I am mostly a robot, so that’s probably why.” You snickered, your hand returning to normal.

Your sensors fired again and you turned your head to see the blonde man from before. “Hallo. I am Pietro.” He smirked.

“Y/N.” You replied, turning to the brunette. “And you are?”

“She’s Wanda.” Pietro answered, but you shook your head, still looking at her.

“Wanda. Wanda Maximoff. We are twins.” She stated, confused by your manner.

“A woman is talked over and spoken for too much in this world. I always give a lady the chance to speak, especially when she is as beautiful as you.” You explained, not registering Wanda’s blush as you fired at more Sentries.

“Pietro, get the people on the boats.” Wanda ordered.

“I’m not going to leave you here.” He scoffed.

“I can handle this.” She shot out a red tendril and you blinked a few times, watching the Sentry get pulled apart before falling to the ground.

“Come back for me when everyone else is off, not before.” Wanda continued.

You admired the way her and her brother argued, making you chuckle as he sped off to continue the fight. You shot out a blast to an incoming Sentry and leaned against the large cylindrical pin.

“So, are you having fun?” You asked her, watching her smirk at you.

“Are you?”

“Oh, I love spending my weekends getting some target practice in.”

“I can see. You have quite the arsenal.”

Suddenly, your sensors fired off and you looked around, seeing through the walls of the destroyed buildings to view Clint holding a young child.

“Y/N!” He called for you and you saluted playfully to Wanda, disappearing and reappearing in front of him.

Your right hand turned into a shield and you covered your face whilst your body covered Clint, the bullets ricocheting off of you before you plasma-blasted the Quinjet above you, your aim true as the android inside fell to the ground.

“You okay?” Pietro asked, watching as the ‘clothes’ turned back into your normal shell.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Clint?” You turned to him, noticing the small child in his grip.

You knelt in front of him and offered your hand, but he scrambled away from you and you sighed as Clint’s palm rested on your cold shoulder.

“Go get Wanda.”

You nodded and disappeared, reappearing by the pin only to see her gone and a Sentry turning the pin. The ground fell beneath you and your thrusters caught you, but your mind was only on one thing.

Two things, actually.

“Natasha?!” You called into your comms.

“I’m alright, lyubov (love).” She answered calmly, clearing one thing out of your mind.

You wove through the debris and found Wanda hovering with mascara running down her cheeks, seeing Vision come towards you.

“Take her!” You handed her over, kissing her temple softly before you fell back and watched Thor collapse into the ocean.

You helped him out before your sensors fired, seeing a familiar figure land on the ground between the trees of the forest. You made sure Thor was alright before you flew over to it, noticing the red of its eyes.

You hummed, your scanners rising and falling on the destroyed metallic form. “You’re afraid.”

“Of you?” Ultron scoffed.

“Of death. You’re the last one.” You explained shortly.

“If it wasn’t for your securities, you were going to be the last.” He grumbled, shuffling towards you.

“Stark asked for a saviour and settled for a slave. If you are neither, what are you to SHIELD?”

“A friend.”

“How disappointing.” He sighed.

“I guess we are both disappointments then.” You shrugged.

“I guess so.”

“Humans… we are odd. I don’t even know if I can call myself one anymore. We think in black and white; we think order and chaos are opposites and yet, we cannot exist in one without the other.”

He shifted his lop-sided head and looked at you, not understanding the meaning behind your smile.

“But there is a grace within our failings, our mistakes. I think you missed that.”

“They’re doomed.” He murmured.

“That is true.” You sat down on the ground, placing your elbows on your knees as you moved them in and out, eying a small flower by your side.

You dug your hand underneath the ground and uprooted it, holding it within the pile of dirt as its petals shone in the sunlight.

“But… a flower isn’t beautiful because it lasts. No, it’s the period of beauty that comes and goes, the changing within the seasons and… growing. It’s quite truly a privilege to be a human… a privilege I lost and yet, it is so fulfilling to be in their presence.”

“You’re unbearably naive.” Ultron groaned.

“Well… at least I wasn’t born yesterday.” You smirked, watching him leap at you.

You drove your hand into his chest and crushed the core that resided in it, shaking his shell off of your arm as the core disintegrated within your grip.

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖🜃🜂🜁🜄⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

You, Wanda and Natasha got along well when you all resided within the compound. The shift to the new place was amazing and it was just in time for your recent evolution of ‘clothes’, since the press thought it was a great daily field trip.

You trained with them both, your quick reflexes as the only challenge against Natasha whilst Wanda trained with you to practise her abilities. You would open yourself up and let her weave her magic through your gears, talking her through the control techniques you used.

“How do you control your anger?” She asked one day, pulling her magic back from your body as you closed up.

“Is someone here pissing you off? Am I pissing you off?” You gasped playfully, only for her to roll her eyes and smirk at you.

“No! It’s just… I know it wasn’t Tony’s fault, but when I see him, I still get angry.” Her smirk faded away and you sighed, taking her hand in yours.

“I used to get angry. Well, I wasn’t quite sure what it was because my brain was still piecing itself back together, but I would get this swell in my chest. And when I felt that…”

You looked across the gym and saw Natasha at the punching bag.

“I would think of her. I would think of how she comforts me during my panic attacks, how she tries and fails to cook for me when I’m sad, how she is always there for me.”

Wanda smiled at your explanation. “I wish I had that.”

*With the both of you.* She finished in her mind, but she didn’t notice the glint in your eyes.

“Tasha, baby!” You called for her and she walked over to you.

“Yes, lyubov (love)?” She asked.

“Remember what we talked about a few nights ago?”

She climbed into the ring and sat with her left knee against you and her right against Wanda. “Is it time?”

You nodded and placed your hand on Wanda’s cheek, confusing her until you pulled her in for a loving kiss. Her eyes were still wide as you pulled away, glancing at Natasha before she kissed her too.

“What is happening?” Wanda asked as Natasha leaned back against you.

“For a mind reader, you are quite oblivious.” The Widow smirked and you guided Wanda’s hands to both of your temples.

“Go on. We trust you.” You smiled, feeling her poke around in your mind for a brief moment until she pulled away.

“So… you like me?”

“Bozhe moi (my God), Wanda, do you need another hint?” Natasha chuckled.

“Yes, we like you. And don’t you get all meanie-pants, I was oblivious too.” You scolded the Widow lightly.

Natasha rolled her eyes before she smirked at Wanda. “Wanna go have a shower whilst Y/N makes us lunch?”

Wanda nodded, watching as you ‘dressed’ yourself and went to the kitchen whilst she followed Natasha.

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖🜃🜂🜁🜄⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

One whole year. One whole year of love, nurturing and admiration led you to this very moment as you stood outside of Natasha’s room and heard not one, not two, but three different moans.

“FRIDAY, where’s Ross?” You asked softly, the AI able to interface directly with you.

“He is currently on a flight to Vienna. Would you like for me to connect you in a call?”

“Yes please, just… let me get further away.”

You hovered down the hallway so as to be silent before you stood in the meeting room alone, circling the table until the call finally connected.

“Yes, Cyborg? And get rid of your disguise.” Ross coughed through and you relinquished your hold on the reflective sheets over your body.

“I surrender to the Accords.” You spoke plainly, writing down on a piece of paper before you took a snapshot of it.

“Here’s my signature.”

“I will put it forward to the Accords. The Department of State thanks you for your service, Cyborg. We will be seeing you soon for assessment.”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded as the connection closed, your sensors noticing the two heartbeats that stood behind you.

“Y/N/N? Honey, what was that about?” Natasha questioned you calmly but you walked past her, your metallic body bruising hers.

“Y/N, baby cakes-”

“Don’t call me that!” You snarled.

“Y/N, darling, calm down.” Wanda cooed, trying to walk towards you but you stepped back.

“Really? You think you’re in a position to call me ‘honey’ and ‘darling’ when you’re fucking behind my back?!”

“Babe, it’s never bothered you that we have sex when you’re on a mission. Why is it bothering you now?” Natasha asked, confused.

“It never bothered me because it was you two. Just you two.” You emphasised and they turned to each other.

“Y/N, what are you talking about?”

“Enough with the lies, Natasha.”

You hadn’t called her that since before you two were together. Her eyes fell to the floor and she stepped slightly in front of Wanda, but a blonde bob of hair caught your eyes.

“What’s up, hot stuffs? Who’s ready for round five-”

You almost stumbled back as you recognised the woman who came in, the same look of shock on her face. “Y/N?! You’re alive?! And you’re a robot!”

“Cyborg, Carol.” You growled.

She immediately tried to give you a hug but you stepped to the side, still looking at your girls. “You fucked my oldest friend?”

“Wait, what?” Carol turned to them and they didn’t look at her, simply keeping their eyes on you.

“You three are a thing? Since when?”

“Well, Natasha and I were a thing since before I crashed in that HYDRA plane, and then sweet little Wanda joined us last year.” You spat.

“Get out, Carol.”

“Y/N, I swear I didn’t know-”

“I can see your vitals. I know.” You ushered her out, locking the doors as you tapped into the security system.

“So, wanna explain why you fucked my best friend?”

“Because you don’t have sex with us anymore!” Wanda barked.

“Shut it, Wanda; Natasha and I were a thing long before you came around. I wasn’t asking you.” You shot a blast near her feet, making her eyes redden.

“Hmm? Wanna explain why my girlfriend of four, almost five years went behind my back? Do you not love me anymore?”

“It’s hard to love a robot.” Wanda sneered.

“I’m not a robot!” You jumped up, angry beyond reason.

“I have a heart! I have a brain, even if it has been integrated with metal and magic! I’m still human! For fuck’s sake, I thought you would have liked me having certain parts as cybernetic!” You snickered sensually.

“I feel emotions! I may be able to punch through a wall without so much as a flick of my wrist, but I can still cry!”

“Y/N, please… let us try again.” Natasha begged you and you stepped away from her.

“Don’t. Don’t touch me. You don’t get that anymore.”

You looked down at your hands and scoffed, feeling tears prick your eyes as you looked at Wanda. “I make fun of myself for being a robot because when I do it and when the press does it, it rolls off of my back. But when you call me a robot…”

Wanda’s eyes stopped glowing as she realised how badly she’s hurt you.

“It hurts beyond any pain I’ve experienced.” You sniffled, teleporting away from them.

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖🜃🜂🜁🜄⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

For the next few weeks, Natasha and Wanda didn’t see you. It wasn’t that you weren’t around, it was that you both avoided them and when necessary, used your reflective panels to turn invisible. You never confronted them, always hanging with Bucky and Sam as you played video games, your own hands as controllers sometimes.

With them, you could forget the feeling of betrayal. You could forget feeling shame, you could forget the love you previously had for the girls. Bucky and Sam took you out to clubs and parties, watching the girls flirt with you as they glided their hands over your metallic body.

But then you would return to the compound, your room once filled with their clothes and their scent. You moved out of it, hiding in the laundry as you slept in a stasis mode similar to Vision, even though nobody knew.

Well, except for Bucky, Sam and Carol. You told them everything and they were there for you. Sam offered to take you to his group therapy sessions with ex-veterans, simply being there for a distraction. Bucky trained with you in the gym and the shooting range, always keeping tabs on Natasha and Wanda so you wouldn’t run into them.

And Carol supported you, in every way but sexually. She would hug you when you cried, take you on shopping sprees when she could, and was just there for you. But you were friends, that was all.

Then suddenly, the Accords happened. You were clearly on Tony’s side, having already signed, but there were still 72 hours to sign as people flowed in and out of the compound. You sat on the couch in the living room as you watched TV by yourself, smirking as the white house blew up once more.

A knock at the door didn’t need to be done as Wanda walked in.

“Can we talk?” She asked.

“There’s not much to talk about.” You mumbled, fiddling with the mechanics of your hand.

“Y/N, there is.”

“How long?”

She was silent until you turned your head to hers and she saw your face. Bloodshot eyes alarmed her whilst dark bags underneath didn’t help disguise your sleeping habits.

“Y/N, are you sleeping at all?”

“Sleeping, stasis mode, same thing.” You grumbled, standing up.

“Y/N, that’s not sleeping. You still have a human brain, a human heart. They both need human rest.” She huffed.

“Where was this concern two months ago?” You chuckled dryly, skimming through the fridge.

“Turn around.”

“I’m hungry.”

“You don’t eat.”

You shrugged - she wasn’t wrong. A robot stomach didn’t run on food.

“Y/N, please don’t make me use my magic.” She begged, her hand glowing with the red wisps you had originally adored.

“Please. You got the Mind Stone, I got the Tesseract. The same levels of energy. You can’t fuck up my brain like you did to the others.”

She sighed, shooting one towards your skull. You grimaced as she wormed her way into your mind, trying to force you to sleep. But she pulled back when she saw the dark thoughts that had been playing in your mind since the break up.

“You… Y/N, no. No, no, no…” She stood, cupping your cheeks after walking to you.

“Y/N, you can’t be serious.”

“Why not? It’s not hard. I am a robot, aren’t I?” You giggled, delusion filling your sleep-deprived mind.

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me.”

“Shutting down in five, four, three, two…” You teased darkly, moving her away from you.

“Y/N, please! Just… Just stop!”

“Why? So you can go find a new fuck buddy? No thanks.”

She watched you walk away, following after you to see you sit down next to Bucky and Sam since Carol was off-world. You were laughing at Bucky’s jokes, sure, but your eyes didn’t show it. She called Natasha to her side and the Widow sighed when she saw you.

“She wants to turn everything off.” Wanda murmured, alarming the Widow.

“What?”

“I heard it, in her mind.”

Natasha stepped into the room and was about to physically knock some sense into you until a person walked through the set of doors behind the couch.

“Avengers… a meeting?”

Ross.

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖🜃🜂🜁🜄⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

You stood quietly in the corner of the room as he explained that a few Avengers still needed to sign or retire, looking at Wanda in particular.

“Of course, Y/N signed before it was even made public.” Ross grinned, patting you on the back.

“It was a great deal, I’m not going to lie, sir.” You smiled.

“What deal?” Natasha asked, your head turning to hers slowly before you nodded at Ross.

“Y/N has decided to… shut down certain parts of her cybernetic body.”

Immediately, every Avenger stood up and argued, a single blast from your hand making them silent.

“Relax, guys. It’s just so I’m no longer dangerous to everyone.” You smirked, looking at Natasha and Wanda.

“Give us a list of the parts you are shutting down, Y/N.” Sam growled, making you turn to him with a sad look in your eyes.

“Almost all motor functions except for basic capabilities such as walking for my legs and lifting for my arms. All weapons will be disabled but still kept in my body since they are attached to certain human parts of me. Things like my thrusters and sensors will be turned off as I will have no need to fly or detect my surroundings.”

“Anything else?” Wanda asked sternly, the sad look in your eyes gone as you turned to her.

“Everything will still be here but anything that is noted as weapons will be turned off.”

“Thank you, Cyborg.” Ross nodded to you.

“Report to Vienna tomorrow at noon, please.”

“Yes, sir. It’ll give me enough time for a new update.” You thanked him, watching him leave.

“If you need me, don’t.”

You walked to your old room and sat down on the bed, looking down at your hands as a holographic screen appeared. You typed in ‘yes’ and hit enter, closing your eyes as the update began.

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖🜃🜂🜁🜄⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

You didn’t appear for the Vienna meeting, but a message popped up on Ross’ phone and he dismissed it. Wanda had kept a close eye on your room and hadn’t seen the door open once in the past day and a half.

She only saw you as you landed on the tarmac of the airport in Germany, with Rhodey downed on the grass out far by the runways and the jet containing Steve and Bucky long gone.

“Y/N! Thank god!” She ran towards you but you blasted at her, forcing her to shield herself.

“Y/N?”

Cars and trucks wailed onto the tarmac, parking beside you whilst Ross stepped out, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N, please take Wanda Maximoff into custody by any means necessary.” He asked, simply leaning on his cane.

You marched towards Wanda and shot out a collar from your hand, your eyes void of focus.

“NO!” She howled, drawing Natasha’s attention as she saw you standing over Wanda, delivering a bolt of electricity strong enough to knock her out.

“Y/N…” Natasha ran out to you and Ross eyed her, the simple notion of his eyes enough for you to turn around.

“Y/N, please, listen to me, baby.”

“Y/N is not here.” Ross chuckled, your hands turning into plasma cannons.

“What did you do to her?!” She growled, aiming her gun at him.

“I did nothing. Well… I did put a virus in her system. All it took was for her mind to degrade to the point of exhaustion. When she started her update, I slid a virus into her and voila - I have a robot under my control.”

Natasha looked at you desperately. “She’s not a robot. She’s kind, loving to a fault, and so much more than a weapon.”

“Funny. You didn’t think like that a few weeks ago.” He sneered.

As you picked Wanda up, you looked at Natasha. She watched as you cocked your head to the side.

Natasha’s face drained itself of colour. She turned to Ross and eyed the evil grin he held. “Did you…?”

“Oh, no, Ms Romanoff. This was all in her own update. I simply wanted control.”

Natasha turned back to your dead eyes that rested on her form. “My heart, please, I beg you to listen to me. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, I’m not leaving you.”

“You took her heart and ripped it into pieces. What makes you think she still has yours?” Ross questioned, guiding you to place Wanda into the transport car before he drove off.

“Y/N/N?” Natasha sniffled, a sliver of hope riding on the idea that your nickname could shock you out of your update.

“I’m sorry, I don’t recognise that name in my database. Would you like for me to search across the internet for you?”

A/N - Here’s Part 2!

#smalls-words #natasharomanoff #natasharomanoffimagine #natasharomanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasharomanoff angst #wandamaximoffimagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff

572 notes · View notes