Some mornings, when there’s nowhere to be and nothing particular to do, it’s nice to snuggle down with a nice hot drink in your underpants (classic pocket briefs in a nice colour for Steve, softly snug black trunks for Bucky) with your best guy.
Are your requests still open if yes! Can you do one where both the reader and newt are planning on proposing and they end up doing it at the same time? Like they both get on one knee and they both figure out what’s going on and say yes at the same time? If that’s not too much
You’d never been the traditional type. It was one of the many things Newt admired most about you.
Amongst one of the most traditional things you wanted to break was proposing. Obviously it was expected that the gentlemen propose to the lady but in your case, you wanted to switch things up. That’s why, at this very moment, you were preparing your shared apartment with your long time boyfriend Newt, up and ready for the big question.
You purchased a simple silver ring for him and had it engraved on the inside with both the date of your first kiss (you’d never forget! January, 18th!) and both your initials.
The bedroom smells like Ocean Sandalwood, a
happy combination of scents that the people at some factory dreamed up a few
years ago. A large candle flickers atop the bedside table, illuminating the
dimly lit room. The sun has just dipped behind the nearby homes, signaling that
Monday’s nightfall is close.
Leaning against the wall, Taylor’s bare
shoulder is flush against the light gray paint, while her heel presses up
against wainscoting that flanks the sides of the room. She presses her lips
onto one another and wonders momentarily where her chapstick is, then watches Tom
as he moves his last items into the charcoal black suitcase and begins to zip
Scratching her eyelid and absentmindedly
holding her arms by the elbows as they cross her abdomen, she watches as Tom
moves effortlessly around the master suite, seemingly in a hurry even though
she knew that he wasn’t running late. His light blue t-shirt has become
untucked in the back, and she can see the waistband of his navy Calvin Klein’s
peeking through. Taylor smiles without realizing it, thinking back to the night
Suppressing a yawn, she inhales. “You have
everything?” she tilts her head to the side and watches as he lines his
suitcases up next to each other, and strips off the old stickers from his last
“Yeah, think so,” he mumbles, turning to smile
at her as he scrumples up the last of the old flight tags.
She forces a smile back, knowing that what
is coming next is the worst part of it all.
Hi! I was wondering if you could do a imagine where you are pregnant of Remus and you don’t dare to tell him bc you are afraid he wil leave you but he is super happy. Thanks I love your work you inspire me. <3
First off, Anon, thank you so much! Your message was really sweet. I’m really excited to write this for you, I hope you enjoy! I hope I did Remus justice, it’s my first time writing him.
A breeze lightly rattles the window. The same breeze gently shaking the foliage covered branches. Birds bask in the rising sun trying to warm themselves from the previous night’s chill.
A small content sigh escapes you. Turning back over, greeted by the peaceful face of your boyfriend, Remus. You’d moved in together after three years of dating, the day he asked you to move in with him had been one of the best you’d ever had. Glancing back at the window you decide it’s too early to start the day and slowly try and cuddle back up to Remus.
Just as sleep was beginning to overtake you again the warmth enveloping you began to stir. Cracking open an eye you peek up at the stirring man. His eyes flutter open, the peaceful look briefly leaving his eyes were attacked by the now blinding sun peering through the glass window panes. His arms wrap back around you as he pulls you closer. A tired groan leaves the man currently burying his face in your hair.
“Come on, Rem, we should probably get up.” You suggest pulling out of the embrace and pushing the duvet aside. Leaving the comfort of your bed, Remus following suite. Eventually, you made it to the kitchen and pull down a book of cereal from atop the fridge. After making yourself a bowl you plop down at the table and dig in. About five minutes into your bowl Remus casually saunters back in completely ready for the day ahead.
“Going somewhere?” Curious as to why he was prepared to go somewhere on a Sunday, a day the two of you usually spend inside together, you decided to ask.
“There are a few things I need to grab before we go to the order on Thursday.” Before he walks past he plants a swift kiss on your cheek, a quick ‘I love you’ and then he was out the door. A few minutes pass and your thoughts start to swirl around in your head. One particular one planted itself in the front of your mind. That one thought, the baby now growing inside of you.
You found out that you were pregnant a week prior. There was just one catch, you haven’t told Remus yet. It’s not that you’re ashamed of yourself or that you were unhappy about the news. You’re just worried that Remus might not share the same view. For the past week, you’ve been trying to figure out how to tell him or even if you would. You had a few ideas as to what may be the best way to tell him, but you wanted an outside opinion.
If there was one person who knew a lot about telling someone they were pregnant, it was Molly Weasley. She’s had seven kids, this makes her an expert in your eyes. A good hour of your morning was spent trying to find the right way to ask her.
By noon a letter had been sent off. You really don’t like keeping anything from Remus, you had always said that you would be 100% open with each other. It almost felt like you were lying in a way. Again your thoughts slip back to the overwhelming presence of the growing baby.
No longer wanted to dwell on it, you head to the living room and pull a book from the mahogany shelf. Nestling up on the couch you get comfortable and dive into the pages of the book. ——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————– A few hours had passed and you’d lost yourself in the pages. So absorbed in your book you didn’t even notice Remus had returned until you felt a hand brush some of your hair out of your face. Jumping at the sudden touch you lose your page. Snapping your head in the direction of the contact, your eyes land on the now amused man, all panic flees your body.
“You scared the shit out of me.” Playfully slap his shoulder. “Well, I called out to you a few times but you never responded,” As he spoke he dug around in his pockets. With a brief pause, he continued to speak as he pulled something from said pockets. “Here I bought you something while I was out.” Finishing his sentence he hands you a chocolate bar, his and your favorite kind. A smile spreads your face and you lean in and the two of you share a loving kiss. Once you break apart you glance over at the clock on the wall, 7 p.m. “Did you eat while you were out? Because I have not eaten yet and I want tacos. You in?” Sliding your arms around Remus’s neck you rest your head on his shoulder. There was a brief, peaceful silence before Remus answered. “If you’re making them, I’m all for it.” After another quick kiss, you head to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. ——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————– After the pair of you finished dinner you both decided to curl up with a good book for an hour or two. You ended up falling asleep on Remus while reading, he picked you up bridal style and started carrying you back to your shared bedroom. As gentle as he was being the movement woke you up. He didn’t seem to notice you stirring. Looking up at your lover you feel an overwhelming feeling of love and protection. Closing your eyes again you let him settle down in the bed with you in his arms and let sleep’s grasp take hold. ——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————– A gentle hand running through your hair lulled you out of your sleep. Your eyes flutter open and peer into the hand owner’s green ones. A soft smile spreads works it’s way across your face matching his. The details of the upcoming day slowly creep into your mind and small groan of annoyance left you as you remembered you had plans with an old friend, Tonks, in about three hours. This pulls you out of bed to start the day.
You go through the motions of your normal routine, kiss Remus goodbye and head out to start your day. You and Tonks had been friends since your first year at Hogwarts, the plans you two had made took away any thought of your growing problem. ——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————– Currently sitting at home reading, Remus is pulled from his book as he hears a soft pecking from the window across the room. Looking up he sees (Y/N’s) owl carrying a few letters and pecking at the window to try and get in. Crossing the floor he unlatches the black metal latch and pushes the window open. Greeting the bird with a good head scratch, he takes the letters and shuts the window. Shuffling through the letters he sees one from Molly. He flipped the letter in his hands, no name. Curious, he opened the letter and began reading. ’…The best thing is to be honest and up front. We all have these worries when we find out, I’m sure he’ll be happy. I highly doubt he would leave you over such a thing, he loves you and is a good man. Just tell him. -Best of Luck, Molly’ He was puzzled, nowhere in the letter did it mention what exactly you were trying to tell him. Possibilities swamped his mind, there were so many he didn’t want to assume the wrong one. He knew that you’ll tell him when the time is right. He thought back to see if he could find any recollection of you seeming unhappy with him or the relationship, he failed to find any signs. No longer wanting to dwell on what may be nothing, he continues to read the rest of his letters and then back to his book. ——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————– “Yes, see you soon, Tonks. I had a great time. Take care.” Bidding your friend farewell you walk into your shared flat, a smile stretched from ear to ear. “Rem! I’m home!” Kicking off your shoes you walk into the living room. Remus sitting on the couch, asleep with a book over his face. You let out a small laugh walk over to him and remove the book covering his face. Walking over to the bookshelf, a pile of letters sitting on a nearby coffee table caught my attention. Picking them up I shift through the letters to see if any were mine. Tonks, Harry, Moody, and Molly. All normal letters, shuffling back through you notice that one looked as though it had already been opened. Examining the envelope, all that it said was that it was from Molly. When I found it in my pile I assumed it had been addressed to me, I mean I knew that I wrote to her yesterday, but Remus didn’t so it was logical for him to open it and see if it was for one or both of us. Remembering what the letter I sent yesterday had entailed my blood ran cold. 'Wait, did Rem read the whole letter? Does he know? Is he upset?’ Those and a million more thought swarm your head, in the midst of your mini freak out, Remus had woken up and was now just sitting and watching you. Taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself, you turn to start heading towards the kitchen. Your eyes fall on the now awake Remus, the undetected change in the environment startled you, a sharp exhale was all that was heard for a good 30 seconds. “God, Rem, you’ve got to stop scaring me like that!” You laugh from both nerve and being scared by your boyfriend sitting up. Looking back at the letters in your hand you decide it’s better now than never, he may already know somethings up.
“Rem, um, I, uh, need to tell you… something.” It sounded a lot more confident in your head, but came out was an awkward string of words. “Yes, Love, what is it?” He looks at you expectantly, but no trace of anger. 'Confidence: Boosted! I can do this, I can do this.’ “Remus,” You take another deep breath “I’m,” another pause. You look him directly in the eye, knowing that if you were going to do this you might as well be as confident as you could, there was no going back now. “I’m pregnant.” You finally managed to get the words out. The second those words left your mouth your eyes shot to the floor and your teeth were on your lip, you prepared for the worst.
The silence was taking over an indistinguishable emotion hung in the air. Remus is just sitting there. After a few seconds, a look of realization hit his face, but your eyes are still on the floor. “You are?” He needs to be sure he heard you correctly. “Yes, I’m pregnant.” Tears started to prick at the corner of your eyes, taking his original silence as him being upset.
Within the next few seconds, arms were around your waist and your feet off the ground. Blinking in shock you realize Remus was spinning you around. “You’re serious?” A broad smile on his handsome face. “Huh? Well, yeah. You aren’t upset?” You didn’t believe your eyes at first. “Why in the world would I be? I love you and I love this baby.” He kisses you passionately his hand on your waist, yours in his hair. Breaking away your foreheads pressed together. “How long have you known?” A look of pure happiness on his face. “Um, only a little over a week now.” “Are we going to tell the order?” “Well, I, sure. I mean, should we?” ——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————– The whole order was gathered at the Weasley’s home for a get-together. You and the rest of the order were currently all sitting down for a meal, Remus to your right, Molly to your left. Turning to Molly you pull her closer. “Do you mind if Remus and I make an announcement?” You whispered into the red-heads ear. “If it’s what I think it is that go right on ahead, Dear.” Sharing a look you both smile. Turning to Remus you give him a curt nod.
Remus clears his throat and quickly glances at you. You smile at him. “If you don’t mind (Y/N) and I have some news we’d like to share with you.” It took a little bit but all of the eyes in the room made their way to the two, no, three of you. Smiling at Remus you decide to speak up. “We’re having a baby! We wanted to tell all of you because you’re like family to us and hope that you will continue to be.”
A light air overtook the atmosphere. In a time of such tension, moments like these were what everyone yearned for. And this moment would only create more to come.
Genre: Chaptered, fantasy AU, Prince!Phil, Thief!Dan, romance, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff, slow burn (like serious slow burn)
Warnings: some violence, mentions of death (no main characters), dark magic, descriptions of wounds/blood, some hints of sexual scenes (but no actual smut), murder, dangerous situations, stealing/thievery
Summary: Captain of the Royal Guard and Prince of Morellia, Philip Lester has never been given the chance to find love. Instead, he’s run from a system that works to end class differences and improve equality for its citizens. Happy as he is to make the world a better place, Phil can’t help feeling bitter towards his ancestors for making it impossible for him to find someone who will actually love him for more than just his title, and strives instead for a life of justice and doing good - only to meet his match in the King of Thieves, a man who will change everything he once thought he knew in life. Together, they must depart on a quest to save the kingdom, and, in the process, destroy their differences and find their own form of love.
Word count: 240,000+
Thanks so much to @botanistlester for betaing this giant monster, as she’s been super helpful and encouraging with her little comments and endless excitement. We couldn’t have done it without you <3
Disclaimer: In no way do I claim that this is real or cast aspersions on Dan or Phil
Someone actually drew us art for Steal My Heart recently!! We meant to link it last week, but it completely slipped our mind, whoops! But yes, I’m so excited and happy, our dear friend @cosmicphandom2k16 drew the kissing scene from chapter seven for us, and you can find that post here! Hope you guys enjoy todays chapter! <3
You and Peter sat on the roof of the mansion, watching the moon to rise to the dark, ink blue sky. You had no specific reason to be up there - you both just enjoyed the relaxing silence of the early autumn night, and the feeling of the cool wind against your skin when you found yourselves unable to sleep.
You were exchanging stories, little truths, talking in quiet voices so nobody would hear you.
“After I met you”, Peter said, his voice rising a little when he chuckled in amusement and his eyes set on you, “I’m always stuffing my pockets with band aids before leaving the house.”
“I don’t know. I guess I just want to be the one to help you and patch you up in case you trip over your feet. You do that quite a bit.”
You laughed. “I give you that.”
It was your turn. You looked down from Peter, down to your arms covered by the sleeves of your shirt. You didn’t see them, but you felt them; you knew where they were, the exact spots of those faded markings of your bitter past, and you could recall the feelings you had hidden behind them like yesterday. You remembered the pain you had buried in your skin along with the blade. You moved your hand to lift your left sleeve, revealing your deepest, best-kept secrets to Peter.
“I don’t have cuts anymore”, you told him in a voice as quiet as a whisper, but you were still smiling, “just scars. They don’t hurt anymore.”
You felt Peter’s eyes keen on you, but you didn’t lift your gaze to meet his. His hand found yours, and he took it, and with gentle strokes he brushed his thumb over your faded scars.
“You used to cut?” he asked, and his voice sounded brittle and his eyes were much darker, sadder, as they counted the marks running up your arm.
“I did”, you answered, “but not anymore. In a few days I’ve been clean for six months. I’m happier now.”
Peter said nothing more, but something still troubled him, you could tell that from the way his brow was furrowed, and you saw it from the way he avoided looking at you directly. You sought after his eyes, hunted down his gaze and locked it down with yours.
“Peter”, you said with emphasis, but still kept the smile on your lips and the tone of your voice as soft as a feather, “I’m much happier now. My life is better… mostly because of this school, and because of you.”
You saw tears in his eyes, how the moonlight made them glimmer like stars on the night sky’s canvas. Clutching your hand tighter and pulling it closer to himself, he treasured it against his chest. “I should’ve met you earlier”, he said, more to himself than to you, “so I could have patched you up when you needed it the most…”
Something was burning behind your eyes, but you tried to ignore it, and brushed over it with a smile. You didn’t want to cry. You wanted to smile because you were happy, and you wanted to see Peter smile because there was a reason to. Tears, crying… their time would come, it always did, but now? Right now you wanted to smile while the sadness was still waiting its turn.
“Give yourself a little more credit”, you noted, leaning a bit closer so you could whisper instead. Speaking in your normal voice felt too loud in the quiet night. “You have helped me more than you realize. We met almost seven months ago, and I’ve been clean for six. If you think that’s a coincidence…”
A faint hint of a smile appeared to Peter’s lips to answer yours. “The universe is rarely so lazy.”
Peter looked at you for a good long while, observing your features quietly, not saying anything. You couldn’t read his thoughts, his face and expression didn’t give you anything, but when his smile reappeared, the grave feeling from the bottom of your stomach vanished.
“You’re happy now”, he stated it like a question, to make sure he had understood it right, and you nodded.
“Scout’s honour, I am happy. You don’t have to worry about me.”
He snorted. “As if I’ll ever stop worrying about you.”
“Fine, have it your way”, you said - and then you flashed a wide grin to him, “but if it makes you feel any better, you can patch me up with these.”
You showed Peter the band aids you’d taken from his pocket, and after a brief look at them and at you, he started to laugh his light, sunny laugh that always filled your heart with joy when you heard it. You joined him, and he took the band aids from you, releasing your arm he’d been holding the whole time.
“They’re cute”, you commented when he opened the tiny package, and you saw the corner of his mouth lift as he smirked.
“Cute”, he repeated under his breath, “just like you.”
Hinata was so nervous she could almost feel her teeth
vibrate along with the rest of her body. Then her head actually did vibrate.
But it was a miracle to her. The act of texting Sasuke felt
like she was undertaking a huge risk. So many people had tried to take
advantage of him. It was clear to her and Jugo that she had to take this slow
if she really wanted to be his friend. It was imperative that she showed him
she did not want anything from him. Just his friendship.
Even if he made her nervous as hell.
Pulling her phone out
from under her pillow, Hinata squinted at the bright screen in the dim light.
Yeah. The text message read.
She sucked in a breath
and let it out on a little laugh. All that worrying for a one-word answer. She
buried her face in her pillow. Previously, she thought her heartbeat would
return to normal once -if- she received a favorable text. Instead, her
nervousness ratcheted up a notch.
Well no sleeping in today, it seemed.
Guren was waiting right outside the door to Kabuto’s office
when Hinata walked in. Hinata’s smile was wide and genuine.
The older woman’s lips quirked in what was her approximation
of a warm smile. “Hey, yourself. What are you up to today?”
Hinata’s smile only widened. Classic Guren, straight to
business. Hinata lifted up the wicker basket in her arms so the bodyguard could
“Sasuke had a bit of acne during the tour so I brought him some
products to try while he’s on break.” She could not help but pout a little bit.
“He refuses to see a dermatologist so I’m trying to help him out as best I
Guren leaned over to run an eye over the products before
snorting and leaning back against the wall. Both her arms and legs were crossed
and she looked like the epitome of boredom. But Hinata knew that appearances
could be deceiving. The sleeves of Guren’s shirt were long enough to cover her
biceps but short enough to reveal the tightly corded muscles in her slim
“Well,” Guren said before jerking a head to the closed door
and office beyond. “Kabuto and Karin are going over the tour video with the man
of the hour. Might as well make yourself comfortable.”
Hinata voiced her agreement and sat down on a couch on the
opposite wall. She set her basket down and swung her legs idly.
“How’s Yukimaru?” She asked.
Something almost indistinguishable loosened in Guren’s
stance. “Good. Doing well in school, as always. He’s a smart little brat. Gave
me hell for not going on the tour and taking him with.”
Hinata giggled. “We missed both of you.”
The older woman shrugged, her bright red lips moving into a
stern frown. “Touring is hard and I’m not taking him out of school.”
“That’s understandable,” Hinata soothed. There was a reason
why Suigetsu had stuck to Sasuke’s side so much, instead of coordinating
everything from a better vantage point. Losing the head bodyguard had put a
strain on resources but it was not impossible to deal with.
Guren’s sharp gaze pinned Hinata suddenly. “How was it for
you? I see you haven’t quit yet.”
“Ah.” Hinata laughed and lightly tugged at a strand of hair
that had fallen over her shoulder. “No not yet.”
The door opened suddenly, revealing Karin. She stumbled to a
stop at seeing the two women in the reception area. Karin sneered and then with
a flip of her hair, strode out of the room. Kabuto followed and inclined his
head at Hinata. Orochimaru breezed through without breaking stride, for which
Hinata was grateful. She sunk back and clutched her basket to her chest.
Sasuke was last, smoothing down his hair. Hinata’s posture
loosened enough that she felt like she could finally stand. Her movement caught
An acute embarrassment suddenly gripped her and she could
feel her face heating up to a catastrophic level. Pushing through it as best as
she could, she held out the basket.
“These are those products I promised you.” Aware of both
Guren and Sasuke’s discerning gazes on her, she shakily pointed to a
handwritten card. “These are instructions but it’ll take at least a week or two
for you to see any results.
Sasuke appeared confused. “I didn’t-”
Hinata pulled out a pump bottle with brown tinted glass.
“Here is that hand sanitizer. That-that you did
Guren pushed off the wall and with a nod from Hinata, took
the bottle and opened the cap slightly. “Never thought you would like floral
scents, Sasuke.” Guren teased.
He huffed and crossed his arms, before uncrossing them to
accept the basket. “How much do I owe you?”
Hinata’s eyes widened as she shook her head. “It was a
“Tch. And I want to give that hand sanitizer to my mom. How
can I give her something that was given as a gift to me?”
Hinata shook her head. “You don’t have to-”
A phone chimed. Guren pulled her out of her pocket. After a
brief moment, she nodded at Sasuke and carefully placed the bottle inside the
basket. “I’ll meet you at the entrance. Bye, Hinata.”
“Bye, Guren-san!” Hinata did not want the other woman to
“Hinata,” Sasuke commanded. “How much do I owe you?” He
paused, his uncertain expression killing Hinata’s protests before they could
leave her mouth. “I’ve never gotten my mom something like this before. Does
your mom like it?”
Hinata’s lips pressed together. “I… I don’t have a mother,
Sasuke-san. Not for a long time anyway,” she said apologetically.
Sasuke’s eyes widened. “Oh shit, Hinata I didn’t mean…”
She shook her head and took advantage of his shock to shove
her cargo in his hands. He accepted it robotically. “You didn’t know.”
Her watch chimed a reminder. “And now I’m the one who has to
leave.” She murmured, turning the alarm off. “I’ll see you soon, Sasuke-san.
Have a nice day.”
Resisting the urge to bolt, she forced her limbs to
cautiously move her towards the elevator. It opened quickly and she slid into
it before Sasuke could come to his wits. When she last saw him, he was standing
in the reception area, staring into the basket.
She did a lot of running away when it came to him.
Hinata pulled her phone off the table when it almost
vibrated off. Her brows furrowed. A text
message from Guren?
Yukimaru wants to know
if you want to go for breakfast some time.
Hinata practically melted as she sent her answer. I would love to.
Its gonna be angsty but with a happy ending so don’t worry peeps, it’s just gonna take some time to get there.
I hope you enjoy and support the story!
“Get up” Seokjin asked for what must be the sixth time, he
had about two more tries in him before he took a more drastic measure of waking
up the sleeping boy. The boy could sleep through the apocalypse if he tried
hard enough, and unbeknown to the boy he was about to start one if he didn’t
get his ass up out of bed sometime in the next ten seconds.
Seokjin let out an exasperated sigh and bent down to come
level with the sleeping boys face and leant in to his ear to whisper a rather
ominous “If you don’t get your ass moving in the next five seconds, I will
flush your precious usb and its back up’s down the toilet”
That inspired some movement from the boy, he opened one eye,
glaring at Seokjin. “You wouldn’t dare”
Seokjin smirked, “You wanna try me?”
They had an intense stare down for a few more seconds before
Yoongi decided to admit defeat – this time. He started unwrapping himself from
the blanket cocoon he had made himself, grumbling the whole time and cursing
Seokjin out. Seokjin stood up, patting himself on the back in a job well done,
“So, why are you waking me up at this ungodly hour?” Yoongi
muttered from his spot – still on the goddamn bed – patting down his bed hair
and valiantly trying to stay awake.
“It’s 12’o’clock” Seokjin incredulously replied with a
“Like I said, this ungodly hour.”
“Whatever….” Seokjin took a few moments to compose himself
(Read: To stop him from committing murder). “You told me yesterday that you had
to be at a meeting for 1’oclock so to wake you up an hour earlier, and here we
are, me having to suffer because you are a pain in the ass that can’t use a
regular alarm clock like everyone else” Seokjin finished by throwing his arms
out dramatically and placing them on his hips.
“Oh…right” Yoongi sheepishly admitted. He stood up
stretching his arms above his head, until he heard a satisfying pop of his
back, making Seokjin cringe. Seokjin was still stood there watching Yoongi, his
eyes unknowingly falling to the strip of skin on show while Yoongi was
stretching, it was pale and despite what one would think, nicely toned, I mean
it wasn’t a six pack but it was nice – really nice. So, nice that he found
himself wondering what it would feel like to touch with his fingertips, his
lips and what it would taste like against his tongue. Seokjin snapped out of
his musings, hearing the groan Yoongi let out after he had finished stretching,
cringing to himself over his previous thoughts and try to push them as far back
into his mind as he could.
Bad Seokjin, bad.
“I’m gonna go get ready then, thanks for waking me up Jin”
Yoongi smirked, reaching out to squeeze Seokjin’s shoulder as he passed him on
his way to the bathroom, stroking down his arm and keeping it there until it
could no longer keep contact.
“Your welcome” Seokjin responded, still slightly flustered
from his thoughts to properly reply.
Seokjin was stood at the counter, placing omelettes onto to
plates, humming to himself and swaying side to side. Seokjin was trying to keep
himself busy and his mind off his previous thoughts. He really needed to get
his shit together, he either needed to tell Yoongi about his feeling and just face
the consequences or admit it wasn’t ever gonna happen and start to move on.
Yoongi and Seokjin had been friends since they were
children, attending the same schools and college until university took them
separate ways. Seokjin chose acting as his major with a side of culinary arts,
whereas Yoongi had gone for music – specifically producing it. Despite their
different passions, they had decided to continue their roommate arrangement and
moved in together after they had graduated from college, they had always been
together, they lived well with one another and knew each other inside and out,
so why should any of that have to change?
Now that both had graduated from university, they chose to
still live together they just upgraded the place in which they lived, luckily
for them they could afford it. Immediately after graduation, Yoongi had been
offered several opportunities and was now making a name for himself in both
producing and rapping. Seokjin was very proud.
As for Seokjin, all throughout school up till university, he
was modelling on the side and the money he made from that had gone into his
saving so by the time he had left university he had saved up quite a pretty
penny while also simultaneously making connection in the modelling word and
gaining respect in the area which would hopefully help him in his aspirations
of becoming an actor. He had had a few small roles but was hoping for something
more substantial in the future – but Seokjin was content where he was for the
moment – he had a part time job in a top end restaurant, small acting roles
here and there and his modelling gigs all made sure that he was able to live
comfortably enough while he took the necessary steps to making it big.
So Seokjin was content with his life – happy even. There was
just one tiny problem and that was the fact he was in love. Usually that’s a
happy thing, something to be celebrated but in this instance, it was
threatening to suffocate Seokjin with anxiety whenever he thought about it. Seokjin
was in one of the most cliché scenarios ever –
he was in love with his best friend.
Seokjin wanted to deny it and rage against it but that
seemed to take much more effort than simply accepting the fact that he was in
love with Yoongi, so he had come to terms with it. There was no big epiphany or
revelation, around a year ago he was just lounging around on the sofa with
Yoongi when he looked at him and the thought just kinda popped in there and
refused to leave (the little bastard).
Seokjin was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice
Yoongi making his way over “What smell so good?” and startled him so bad with his question that
he nearly dropped the plates he was
“Jesus Christ, why don’t you make noise when you move?”
Seokjin, totally did not scream, was precariously balancing two plates and two
glasses of juice in his arms while glaring at Yoongi, clearly flustered.
“Are you sure you’re not part cat?” Seokjin demanded,
setting the breakfast items down on the table.
Yoongi Shrugged in response.
“Looks good” Yoongi appraised, he set himself down in one of
the chairs taking a sip of his juice, digging in once Seokjin had also sat down
across from him. He made a noise of approval after his first bite, causing
Seokjin to smile over at him, a faint pleased blush making its way on to his
“So, what’s this meeting all about then?”
“Hmm? Oh, it’s for a new upcoming idol group, apparently,
they are “highly anticipated” and are guaranteed to “make it big”” Yoongi
couldn’t help but roll his eyes, every manager/company said the same bullshit.
“Usually it takes more than that to capture your attention
though?” Seokjin questioned between bites.
“Yeah, well, I heard some samples from them and they
actually sound pretty good – I can see some real potential, if they put the
work in.” Yoongi admitted.
“Wow that’s high praise coming from you,” Seokjin looked
interested “you’ll have to let me have a listen sometime” Yoongi nodded his
head in agreement.
The conversation was interrupted but the ringing of Yoongi’s
phone, he took it out from his pocket and gave a brief glance at the screen
“What’s up Namjoon?” Yoongi questioned immediately.
“Because every time you ring me it’s to either give me shit
or because someone’s fucked something up – usually you.”
Seokjin watched Yoongi in amusement as he played with his
remaining food, listening to Namjoon disinterestedly, rolling his eyes every so
often and letting out sighs. Signalling to Seokjin to “Kill me now”.
“I know Namjoon, I’m gonna be there in like fifteen minute –
tops. Okay? Yes, yes, I know. Okay I’m hanging up now. See you in a bit” Yoongi
ended the call placing the phone in his pocket, he stuffed the remaining food
in his mouth, washing it down with the juice before standing up and grabbing
his keys from the counter making his way to the door to slip his shoes on.
“Right better get off before I’m late and I have to listen
to Namjoon chew my ear off”
Seokjin let out a small chuckle. “You know you love him
Yoongi” Yoongi snorted glancing at Seokjin in a way that expressed the “shut
the fuck up” without uttering a single word.
“So what are you gonna get up to today?” Yoongi asked, while
he was packing the last few things in his bag.
“Nothing much, just gonna chill really, I don’t usually get
a day to myself so think I just wanna pull a Yoongi and laze around all day”
Seokjin replied with a grin, Yoongi answered him with a middle finger causing
Seokjin to let out one of his signature windshield wiper laughs. Yoongi grinned
“Right well enjoy your awesomely inspired lazy day – don’t
have too much fun without me” Yoongi called out before making his way out of
the apartment, giving a small final wave to Seokjin who returned it with a
flying kiss, causing Yoongi to let out a snort before closing the door behind
As soon as Yoongi left, Seokjin let out a deep sigh letting
his arms drop to his side.
Summary: Yoongi looks tired, so you tell him to sleep.
You hear the bed creak at the added weight and it takes a lot more energy than you’d anticipated to crack open an eye to watch Yoongi’s head sink down into the pillow beside you. He hasn’t noticed that you’ve woken up, and you watch as he sighs quietly, eyes shut.
Your voice is soft, a little hoarse from the remnants of sleep, but it has him turning towards you anyway, eyes opening immediately. It’s clear that Yoongi’s realised he’s woken you, that he hadn’t been as quiet or slow in his movements to not disturb you at such an early hour, but when you lift yourself up a little, your weight supported on your elbow as you cup his cheek, he forgets about it for a moment in favour of sighing again, happily this time, at the warmth of your palm against his skin.
“Hey,” he replies, the corners of his lips lifting into a small smile. It doesn’t take much for you to notice the fatigue, the tiredness tucked away in the fine lines of his face, the tension in the rest of his body, as if he’s denying himself a moment of relaxation, in case something happens. His skin looks dull, heartbreaking evidence of a hectic schedule and a workaholic personality, and you don’t even realise you’re frowning until he reaches up to pinch your cheek gently.
Anonymous said: Hi! I first want to say that you are a really talented writer and I love your imagines!! Second, could you please do a imagine where the reader is Dean’s girlfriend and she is possessed by a demon (her tattoo got burned off or something) and how you think the Winchesters would deal with that? Thanks!
A/N: Well, school started again and I can just feel this will be a busy year! I feel like the ending is kind of crappy though, so I hope you like it and I’m sorry it took so long!
Word count: 1,339
Warnings: swearing, gore, possession.
The wooden floorboards creaked as you walked slowly on top them, making you curse slightly. The last thing you wanted was for the demon to hear you. It would most definitely ruin the hunt, and that meant no ice cream afterwards. Oh, and it also meant that you or the Winchesters could get hurt.
You were hunting one of Azazel’s minions. The last one, to be exact. It had taken you, your boyfriend Dean, and his brother Sam, about three months to track her down to the small Indiana town. You had split up with you taking the left wing of the house, Dean taking the right one, and Sam going to the attic. And now it was time to kill the thing.
Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you watched your steps a bit more carefully. The modern house would have been a great place to live in, of course, if the walls hadn’t been splashed by blood. You couldn’t believe that the bitch hadn’t even bothered to clean up. It was like she was not expecting to be caught, or if she was she couldn’t have cared less about hiding the fact that she had murdered several people now.
You entered the kitchen, looking around for something that might have given away her location, as she appeared not to be in the house as you had thought. The bright, yellow walls were decorated with sigils, and the sink was halfway filled with something horribly red.
You scrunched up your nose as you got closer to it, the smell of blood filling your nostrils. Pushing away the urge to gag, you took a deep breath and turned around, almost bumping into a tall, blonde woman with pitch-black eyes.
“Well, aren’t you breaking and entering?” She said, her voice sickly sweet. She blinked and her eyes turned to a chocolate brown filled with coldness.
“Shouldn’t be as bad as committing murder,” you shrugged, gripping your gun tightly, your other hand itching towards the bottle of holy water in your pocket.
There was a brief moment in which you glared at the demon, and then you raised your gun. Before you could shoot, though, you felt yourself being thrown across the room, hitting the fridge with a loud crash. The demon was at your side in an instant, a lighter in her right hand. You tried to stand up, but the demon pressed an arm to your neck, and the lack of oxygen made your efforts to fight back seem pathetic.
Then you felt a hot, searing pain on your lower arm. A scream ripped your throat as you felt your flesh burning, the anti-possession tattoo on the back of your wrist being set on fire and leaving you exposed.
Sam and Dean ran into the kitchen, but with a quick flicker of her hand they were sent flying backwards. Your vision started to darken around the edges, fighting as hard as you could to get a breath in. The demon suddenly released you, and her head turned towards the ceiling as a cloud of smoke left her mouth. And then you felt nothing.
Dean and Sam watched in horror as the demon entered your body, their hearts beating fast as you closed your eyes and went lump. They raised their guns and moved slowly towards you as you started to stir. And then your eyes opened, every part of them filled with black.
“Wow, this one’s body feels better than I thought,” you smirked, blinking and making your eyes turn to their normal (Y/E/C).
“Get out of her, you bitch,” Dean growled, his jaw set hard as he glared at you. He was trying to keep his emotions in check, but seeing the cold smile you gave him made his stomach churn.
“Aw, but I barely just got in,” you whined, pushing yourself off the floor. Dean and Sam tightened the grip on their weapons as you did that, though they were still a few feet from you. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you threatened, “after all, you do want your precious girl back, don’t you?”
Dean’s grasp on his gun was so strong that his knuckles were shinning white. He was breathing hard, his eyes concentrated sorely on yours. He knew the demon would keep taunting him for as long as she could, but the more time passed was the more time she would be inside of you. The very thought of this made his skin crawl.
“Poor little thing she is, really,” the demon continued. “She loves you so much, you know? Right now she’s screaming for you, Dean. She wants you to kill her; says that it’s not your fault and that you should just finish me.”
“Listen, bitch, we’ll make things easy for you,” he spat, his voice filled with venom. “You have two choices—either you get out of her right now or you can go back to where you came from!”
"Oh, but you’ll come back for me,” you said, pouting and giving him your best puppy eyes. But they were cold and empty instead of filled with the usual warmth you had. “So what’s the point of letting me go? I know you will kill me the next time.”
“Damn right!” Dean exclaimed, suddenly tackling you down.
You hit the floor with a gasp of surprise, trying to push Dean off of you as Sam started to exorcise the demon inside of you. Your eyes turned black for a second before you let out a scream, black smoke flying out of your mouth. You exhaled slightly, your eyes rolling back as you passed out.
“(Y/N)? Baby?” Dean whispered, his voice shaking at the end. He pressed his fingers against your neck as he gathered you in his arms, letting out a sigh of relief when he felt your strong pulse.
“How is she?” Sam asked, crunching down next to you with worry. You cut off Dean’s answer as you shifted, squinting at them as you opened your eyes.
“G-guys? What happened?” You had a terrible headache, and almost every part of you hurt, but specially where you’d previously had your anti-possession tattoo. “Wait, did the demon posses me?” You asked, memories flooding back into your head as you stood up.
“Yeah,” Dean said, his voice low. He had tears in his eyes he pressed his forehead against yours, wrapping his arms around your waist. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Sam slipping away to give you guys some privacy. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry, baby, this was all my fault.”
“Dean, none of this was your fault,” you mumbled, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “If anything, it was mine.”
“I should’ve protected you better,” Dean shook his head. “I should have been the one possessed, not you.”
"You can’t always protect me.” You stated firmly, “and you have to know that. But I know that you will always do your best, even if you sometimes take it a bit too far.” Your joke lessened the tense mood, and you saw Dean crack a smile. “Dean, the thing is that I’m fine, and that’s all we should be concerned about, okay?”
“I don’t know how you can manage to be so cheerful,” he grinned, lifting you up as you playfully hit his shoulder. You hooked your legs around him as you giggled, staring into his eyes.
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” Dean whispered pressing his lips against yours as you smiled. Sam would definitely have to wait a while.
A/N: This was a request given to me by @flufy07! I didn’t know it was going to be a series, but IT DID! So I’ll be putting out hopefully every Monday! Buckle up!
When Dean and Sam came to you with the next case, it hit close to home for you. There was a vengeful spirit at a high school in a town one state over. The spirit was possessing the bodies of kids who were being bullied and they used the kid to kill bullies. When you saw your high school’s name in the article you couldn’t believe it. You didn’t want to tell them about the constant bullying you endured at your high school; so you didn’t.
“Are all of us going on this one,” Sam wondered, closing his laptop.
“[Y/N], are you going,” Dean asked, looking at you.
*angsty anon runs back*nOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO LIKE THANKYO SO MUCH FOR THE POST BUT N O O O O O O O O O O O O PLEASE DO A PART 2 WITH A HAPPY ENDING LIKE JUST A SHOR TPART 2 I AM FRANTIC RIGHT NOW
*sobs @ that tsukki angst* when you have time, can you write part 2?
ijustt … just ugghh don’t give up tsukki! i kno w you care!! //sobs
Could you pretty please write a second part to the tsukki argument imagine? I need to know what happens! ~dweeb anon
Heyyy, um can you continue that sad Tsukishima angst story? You know, for science purposes…
hii! omg i just read ur tsukki angst thingy where they get into a fight
and she runs off and would you be able to do a part 2 for it? i would
love to read one <3
Look Angst Anon! YOU
ASKED FOR ANGST AND I DELIVERED! Lmao you can’t ask for angst and then get
upset when it’s goddamn good angst! Lmao But honestly I am so happy that you
all liked it so much!!! And I actually thought up this part of the story after
getting the first ask for Angst Anon! BUT I had a few request to do before
gracing you with this part 2! BTW If
you think this part 2 is going to have ANY Tsukishima fluff… you are SOOOOOOOOOO wrong!!!
Enjoy this pain!!! -Admin Satori >:D
Seeing you with Matsukawa, in his arms and telling him
everything that was going wrong in your life up until that moment, only made
Tsukishima want to go home and hide under his blankets for the next 6 years. At
least by that time, you would have moved on and probably been happier without
him…. Right? Regardless of the answer to that hypothetical question, Tsukishima
made his way home without making you aware of his presence outside that late
You sniffled against Matsukawa’s shoulder, feeling like your
entire world was about to shatter at how much pain you were letting out. How
much of Tsukishima’s hurtful words had actually gotten to you? How much of his
bitterness had inflicted pain in your heart, and you’d just covered it up
because you loved him? Apparently, you’d been holding it all in for so long,
that once Matsukawa had started to pry slightly at what you were doing all
alone, you’d just started to cry. You were all alone. Tsukishima had made it so
very clear to you that he didn’t want you hanging around anymore.
“I told you, you’re
being nothing but an annoyance.”
The hiss in his words, how his gaze had felt like ice in
your veins and how he had practically told you that everything was a mistake. Everything. Even you.
A warm hand ran through your hair, a gentle voice soothing
you with almost silent ‘shhhhs’ as Matsukawa tried to get you to calm down. He
wasn’t used to comforting people. Not even his older sisters. But you had
looked so vulnerable, and you’d looked so very conflicted and hurt, that he
couldn’t stop himself from striking up a conversation. He felt a sense of
protectiveness wash over him, and he chalked it up to seeing his sisters crying
with each other, but deep down it was a very different kind of protectiveness.
He just didn’t know it yet.
“It’s alright, ____. Don’t worry about it….” He trailed off
before pulling back just a bit, giving you a small smile, one you thought
looked very cute at how sleepy his face is. You froze in his arms, shocked with
yourself that you’d ever be looking at someone else the same way you looked at
Tsukishima. You’d thought Tsukishima was the only one for you, the only one who
held your heart in his pal and the only one who could make you feel like your
heart was about to burst.
But the sheer comfort Matsukawa was providing was something
you weren’t used to, something you wanted to savor and continue to bask in. But
you couldn’t. You had a boyfriend. And you loved him very much. You gulped
slightly before pulling out of Matuskawa’s arms a bit more, “I… I think I need
to go back home….” You whispered, glancing up at Matsukawa before getting off
your stool at the bar area and making your way to the door after thanking him
for his comforting words and actions.
Matsukawa wasn’t about to let you walk home alone though.
You were both in the middle of Miyagi, it was late at night. A young woman of
your stature was in danger of being kidnapped or hurt. He wasn’t going to let
anything else hurt you tonight. So, he got off his stool and ran after you,
seeing you just a few yards from the café, “WAIT!” He called loudly, blushing a
bit when a few other people on the street gave him a funny look, and quickly
catching up to where you stood, watching him with furrowed eyebrows, “Let me
walk you home… Please.” He added quickly after the initial slightly imposing
demand, not wanting to seem even creepier than he was already coming off as.
Blinking a few times, you felt the warmth of safety flood
through you. You’d only seen this guy a few times since the beginning of the
school year. He was from a rival school, Aoba Johsai, and his team had won the
tournament. Had crushed your boyfriends dreams, even if he claimed it was ‘just
a sport’. But you just knew that he wasn’t a bad guy. He wasn’t going to hurt
you in anyway, and just going on that gut feeling made you feel comfortable
with walking to Tsukishima’s house with him. You nodded to him without saying a
word before you lead the way.
“So…. If you’re so upset with that middle blocker of yours….
Why are you going back to him?” Matsukawa asked casually, his sleepy eyes
turning to get your reaction before looking back at the road. He wasn’t
surprised to see you blush, it was a personal question after all, and he was
very much prying, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so you don’t have to
You shook your head, “No… I’m not going back to him… I’m
going to his house to sleep until the morning when I can actually move around
and find a new place to stay….” You muttered
before you turned on your cell phone to look through your contacts,
knowing you had a few friends who wouldn’t mind having you as a guest until
your house was finished being remodeled. “In the morning…. In the morning, I’ll
pack all my things… and head over to a friends house…. And I’ll tell him…. I’ll
Matsukawa could see you were having trouble getting the
words out, but that you knew what you wanted. He looked at you out of the
corner of his eye before reaching out and pulling you into his side, bringing
you both to a stop as he wrapped his other arm around you, “You’ll tell him you
need a break… is what you were going to say, right?” He asked quietly, looking
down at you when you pulled your head out of his chest, he gave you a friendly
There was something blooming in your chest at the way he
smiled at you, his arms holding you so close, his warmth reminding you you
weren’t alone in this. He was new, but he was there. He was support. You nodded
to him before looking at the house you had stopped in front of, “Yes… I’ll tell
him that we need a break…. From each other.” You whispered, but your words were
firm. You knew it was the right thing to do, and you knew you had to do it, but
it hadn’t hit you just yet. What you were going to do when you saw Tsukishima
in the morning hadn’t fully registered to your aching heart. You took a deep
breath before smiling up at him, “Thank you, Matsukawa-san, for walking me home…”
You pulled out of his arms and gave him a slight bow before starting towards
the front door.
Only, you stopped when your wrist was held back, and you
turned your head to see why he’d stopped you from going on into the house. He
was blushing slightly, liking the way you’d said his given name, but he didn’t
want you to treat him so formally. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of
his head with his free hand, “Uh…. Call…. Call me Issei…..” He stuttered out,
his sleepy eyes looking at your delicate wrist in his large hand, loosening his
grip and just letting your palm rest on his open one. Slowly, though, his eyes
traveled up your arm to see that you, too, had noticed how warm his hand was
and how gentle his touch was.
You blushed deeply, smiling to yourself as you slowly took
your hand off of his, your fingertips dragging across his palm and his long
fingers, “Issei…” You whispered, your breath coming out in a puff with how cold
the early morning was becoming. You looked up at him, still a small smile and
your blush diminishing to a comfortable rosy color, and gave another slight
bow; Respect was still a thing since he was a third year and you a first year.
Turning towards the house, you took a deep breath and braced
yourself in case Tsukishima had noticed you weren’t in bed next to him or on
his couch. Matsukawa watched you make your way to the front door, how your hand
shook before opening it and letting yourself inside. He raised his hand at you,
after pulling it out of the warmth of his jacket pocket, in a brief goodnight
gesture before you nodded and closed the door. He let out a deep sigh as he
turned to walk home, putting his hand back into his pocket, thinking it was
absolutely silly of him to have his hand that had touched yours clenched in a
fist to keep that warmth he felt from you with him longer.
“So much for going home.” He said to himself as he texted
Hanamaki to meet him at the Aoba Johsai gym so they could practice, so he could
get his mind off of you.
You all thought this was going to be a Tsukishima happy ending! It’s just
another cliffhanger! #FightMe!!! But seriously, I was going to make this a bit
happier for Tsukishima, but it was getting a bit too long for me to continue in
that direction… WHOOPS! >:D
"So i worked some stuff out with Thor, and i think i figured out a way that you can keep coming back, so you don't have to leave everyone." Tony said, as Phil came in, Tony going through his books to see what he wants to bring and what can stay behind.
“Very sweet of you. If he gives me access to the bifrost I can travel freely can’t I?” Phil walked up, hands in his pockets. “I’ve been briefing Skye. She’s about to become the one they give the weird people to, in my stead. She doesn’t know that yet.”
I’ve been getting quite a few questions about my packing underwear from Tranzwear, I’m stoked to see that people are curious about it- the more information we share with one another, the better I think! So, I’m going to try to cover everything here but feel free to send me a message for more details if I’ve left anything out.
I’ve ordered from Tranzwear two or three times now and I was super, super happy each time. There was one time when the package took a little bit longer getting to me, but they were really helpful in the matter and in the end, I received it without any real hassle.
The packing pockets are not designed for any specific prosthetic, I’ve gone through 2 different sizes since buying my first pair of packing underwear and haven’t had any issues at all.
As far as the actual products go, it totally depends what you’re looking for, how different types of underwear fit your body, whether or not you need back or front zipper access for a stand-to-pee device, etc. There are a ton of different brands of underwear to choose from, as well as different styles of underwear (boxer, brief, swim trunks etc) and different styles of pockets (all-in-one, sports fit, etc)
So these are two different styles of pocket, both inside of a boxer/brief style underwear.
On the left, in the stripped briefs is an “all-in-one packing pocket,” that has a hole in the front for the shaft to go through and the opening at the back is more in the middle which means easy loading and easy zipper access if you use a stp device.
On the right, in the red Joe Boxer briefs is a sports pocket, which is a quick-drying mesh material, however, that one doesn’t have the hole in the front and only has a top loading opening at the back.
Personally, I prefer the all-in-one pockets in a brief style underwear even though I don’t use a stp device because to me, it just feels super secure. My prosthetic is firmly in place, doesn’t shift from side to side and fits snug against my body. This is the feeling I crave when I pack, but of course, that’s just me.
Sherlock walked briskly along the slick city streets, head down, trying not to catch anyone’s eye. He pulled his coat tighter around his frame, attempting to brace against the sudden chill that had taken hold in the air. The cheap material did nothing to protect him, and, not for the first time, he longed for the warmth and the security of his Belstaff. The familiar weight and feel of the wool would be a welcome respite right now, a talisman, something to wrap himself in and dream of home. But unfortunately, it was a tragedy of war, lost to the battle he was currently fighting.
He ducked into a nearby cafe, grabbing a seat in the corner booth. He waved the waitress away, pulling out the small burner phone from his coat pocket. He turned it around in his hands, considering if he should actually go through with this idea. It was spectacularly risky. If anyone was listening, he could be putting himself and the recipient of the call in very grave danger. But oh, the temptation was so great.
It had been so long, too long since he’d heard that voice. That soft voice that made him feel like home, wrapping around him and filling all the cells of his body with an instant rush of tender warmth. Sherlock knew it was ridiculous, but he thought if he could just hear it again, that tender tone, it almost made these months worthwhile. Almost.
Decision made, he dialed the number. It rang twice before the receiver picked up. Sherlock quickly pressed the mute button and pressed the phone to his ear, leaning back in the booth and closing his eyes.
“Hello,” the man said.
“Hello. How are you?”
“I hope you’re doing well.”
“Hello! Is anyone there?”
“I miss you.”
The line clicked dead in his hand. He kept it pressed to his ear for a second longer, soaking up the forgotten sounds of London, of home, of happiness.
“Happy Christmas, John,” he said, before putting the phone back in his pocket.
John looked down at the bouquet in his hands. He didn’t know why he persisted in bringing them every time, but for some reason, he couldn’t stop himself. Logically, he knew that there didn’t need to be a fresh one every week, but it felt like he was at least doing something. He was too late to stop the events that led to this, but at least he could ensure that the site was beautiful.
John walked up to the headstone and knelt down, removing last week’s offering before carefully placing the recent one in its place. He’d chosen red this week, he supposed it was appropriate, the best to go with the holiday spirit. Although John didn’t feel very festive. Most likely he’d spend the evening the way he’d spent the last few weeks, wallowing in cheap whisky and staring at the walls.
He stood back up and squared his shoulders back. It was time for the next bit of tradition. He had gotten used to talking to Sherlock here. It was almost as if he could sense his presence in the air. Sometimes he told him mundane facts about his day, other times it was to beg him to end this, give him a miracle, to please come home. John never quite knew. It was ridiculous, but some part of him wouldn’t give up on Sherlock. On the strange idea that somehow, somewhere he was out there, just waiting to come home to London. To John.
“Sherlock, I - I still will never understand why. Why did you do it? Why didn’t you let me help you? I would have. I would have followed you anywhere. You know that. You didn’t have to go it alone.” John sniffed, struggling to hold back the tears that were never far away these days. “You were the best man I’d ever known, Sherlock. You were my friend. My best friend. I would have stood by you, always. Wherever you are -”
A shrill sound cut him off. Frowning, he pulled out his phone, and looked at the screen. He couldn’t explain it, but something told him to pick it up, accept the call. He swiped his thumb across the screen and held it up to his ear.
“Hello! Is anyone there?”
He thought he heard a faint crackling on the other end, but no other sound came through.
“Huh,” he said, cutting off the call and slipping the phone back in his pocket. For one brief second, he had hoped, dreamed that by some miracle it was Sherlock calling to tell him he was coming home. Like something out of a fairy tale. But life wasn’t like that.
“Sorry about that. I thought -” John shook his head. “Anyway. What I was going to say is, wherever you are Sherlock, I believe in you. Please stop this. One more miracle, for me. Please come home. I miss you. And one more thing. Happy Christmas, Sherlock.”
He spun on his heel and started walked away, already planning what color bouquet he’d bring on New Year’s.
Because I miss moments like this and I’m a lover of angst!! Gif not mine:
Confessions of a Banshee-
“HELP US!” She exhausted her lungs. The air in the basement’s filing room of Eichen House was suffocating; primarily because she could feel death strangling her throat. Itching one of her screams to come loose.
She didn’t know why she wrote Stiles’ name. All she knew was what it meant. And she wouldn’t have it. Not one more friend of hers was going to die. Screw this list, and screw her banshee abilities!
She hadn’t realized she was crying until she sniffs. Reflexive mannerisms are hard to kick, even in this panic. Luckily Stiles couldn’t see her face, them being tied up and opposite sides of a pole. She needed to be strong, to be “slightly less terrified” for him, and for her.
But it shouldn’t have surprised her that he did notice, Stiles notices everything about her, even when he hasn’t been around in months,“Lydia, are you crying?”
And she didn’t know why; maybe the tone he used or the question itself; more likely the situation they’re in did it, but Lydia Martin snapped.
“No Stiles, I’m not alright. Is that okay with you? Do you want me to be slightly less terrified? Is it not okay for me to be completely wrecked that I just predicted yet another one of my best friends’ death, and now we are in a situation that makes that outcome more imminent?? Am I not supposed to feel like this whole situation is on my shoulders? Am I not allowed to feel like I’ve been alone for months, figuring everything out on my own for months? Being neglected, both as a friend and pack member; for months? Because if it isn’t, than tough! I’m freaked! And if you’re not going to be there, like every other time, then just keep your mouth shut Stilinski!”
And he did. He was very quite. He was still alive, she knew that much; his fidgeting and all that. But it was too quite. And the silence was slamming her ears. Had she, Lydia Martin, actually confessed her feelings? And not even romantic ones, just the run of the mill feelings… Yes she did. And now he wasn’t saying anything. Like she’d said.
They had better things to do. Like get out of the rope. And get out of this God forsaken building. And save their friends.
She was reprimanding herself now. How could she be so selfish? People were dying and she was complaining about how how alone she felt? Could she be anymore of an attention whore!? She hated herself now.
And then suddenly Stiles was in front her, eyeing her.
“– I keep a pocket knife inside my briefs; frisk proof ya know?”
And they would’ve laughed but his tone was somber and his eyes were sad. He cut the rope around her waist and wrists.
“You think they’re coming back?” She asked as she stood. Trying to escape his gaze.
He shook his head and stood with her,“No, not for a bit. You were still out when they were talking about collecting the bigger bounty, Scott; using us as bait. Then they’d finish us.”
Her eyes widened,“where’s Scott?”
“In town,” he was still studying her but she knew he’d ask later. There was always time, unless they died.
“Let’s go,” and she lead the way out; penance for her selfish outburst. And Stiles was right behind her silent but determined.
They saved the day. Again. They evaded death. Again. The McCall pack won. Again.
Scott killed an assassin. He wanted to be alone. Stiles patted his knee. And stood to leave.
“Scott, I’ll always be there for you. And what you did today not only saved your life, but it saved all the other supernatural creatures that they would’ve killed. You did the right thing. But I get it. Just know I’m here for you.”
Scott nodded and laid down. And Stiles took his queue to leave. He went downstairs to meet up with the pack. Malia was there and he missed her. Dreams about her even. But the way she stands in the same room as him tells him that the trust they had is broken. And she isn’t coming back. Not like that.
Kira was there, wet and bloodied; Mrs McCall was stitching a wound on her shoulder. Liam holding her, and taking her pain. They made eye contact and he smirked appreciatively. Liam had saved him tonight. If it weren’t for him, he would have died accompanied by another one of Lydia’s screams…
“Where’s Lydia?” He looked over to Malia.
“I don’t know… But Stiles, she didn’t smell right. Not her usual self.”
“Wh-what do you mean Malia?”
His heart was pounding,“she smelled really sad, and then the smell was gone. She left I guess…But what smelled off was the guilt. Lydia never smelled guilty before.”
“Oh God, no,” and with that he ran out the door and to his jeep. Dialing her number,“pick up Lydia, dammit, pick up!”
Dial. Ring, ring. Voicemail.
“Dammit!” He was praying to whatever god there was that she wasn’t about to do what he thinks she is. “Don’t do it Lyds. I’m coming. I’ll be there. Don’t do it.”
They were tethers right? It had to amount to something. So he filled every fiber in his being with one purpose; to send love her way. Dialed again. Voicemail. “Fuck!”
He sent messages. She wasn’t home. Neither was her mom. The lake house? He tried the phone there. No one. She wouldn’t be at the school.
Where would Lydia go if she felt all alone? Who would she go to if everyone else was busy? And then he spun a very illegal u-turn and made his way to the cemetery.
Sure enough she was there. Crumpled over Allison’s headstone. Whispering and weeping. He could almost make out her words. And then he got closer.
“-so stupid, Allison. Everyone is counting on me. And I’m here crying. But I’ve tried. I can’t figure it out. I don’t know what else to do. You always believed in me, and I thank you. I miss you so much. You said he’d be there. And he hasn’t. You said he’d fall in love with my smile. A whole lot of good that did. He did. But I was too slow. Just like I am with these stupid banshee powers. God! I just wish I could matter. I don’t even do anything for the pack anymore. They don’t need me. I miss you. Talk to me, please… Please.”
And she hugged the granite a little tighter, and tucked her head in her arm a little deeper. This was Lydia Martin in her worst, and she was still beautiful.
“Lydia-” he whispered, not wanting to startle her. He failed.
She shot up form her spot and looked at the stone,“Alli– oh my god!”
She thought it was Allison until she bumped into him.
“Jesus, Stiles! You scared me.” Her eyes were a flurry of anger and hurt.
“Disappointed I’m not Allison?”
Her eyes widened in horror,“How much of that did you hear?”
“I don’t know, but it was a lot to take in..”
“Yeah, well it wasn’t for you,” she brushed off her skirt and started walking.
“Why are you here, Stiles? I don’t need you here. Despite my words earlier, I’ll deal. Life moves on.”
“Malia said you smelled sad and guilty, badly.. You wouldn’t answer your phone. I thought-”
“–You thought what?” And she spun around to face him. “Oh god, no! You thought I was gonna– Stiles, Lydia Martin will fight until her last breath.”
“Good- just checking.”
“Yeah whatever,” and he froze with that.
“It’s funny how it’s takes me to nearly hurt myself to get you to "come to my rescue”… And I’d never even do it.“
“No- Stiles- I’m done. I’ve cried my fill and I’ve hurt enough for a lifetime. I’m done. Leave me alone.”
“You mean "do the thing” you accused me of doing earlier?! You’re insane!“
And he literally clapped his hand over his mouth. She spun around to poke home square in the chest.
"Fuck you! You weren’t there Stiles. After Allison died. You weren’t there. You had always been there. I don’t know if it was some sort of martyrdom but you left. And then Malia came. And I thought it was me. I thought maybe we just got too familiar. Maybe the way I used Aiden and the others finally got you to look away. Like I wanted… So I dealt with it. And then you all started to go away. I dealt with it. All of this happened, and I dealt with it. And if that makes me crazy then, then– fuck you!”
She started to walk away but another thought came.
“And in all my craziness, I realized something. It’s not me. It’s you. YOU. You are just some hormone crazed teenaged boy who only cares about girls who give you physical gratification. If you don’t like them, then you don’t give them the time of day. And I’m lucky for it.”
A sob betrayed her. Hot tears streamed down her face. His too and he was studying her. She hated that he did that, always. She hated it because she missed it, and she hated it because it was too late. He had Malia. He had the pack. She only wanted him. But she couldn’t want that anymore…
“Lydia. I’m sorry,” and what he meant by that was he should’ve been there. He should’ve stayed. He should’ve been a true friend even if he was with someone else. He shouldn’t have let her put everything one her shoulders, or just deal with her fear and pain. He shouldn’t have called her crazy. He was sorry he didn’t see any of it. He was sorry that he didn’t want too. Because being hopelessly in love with two women was hard enough, and now he was losing both.
But his sorry sounded like: I’m sorry you’re right about everything, and that I don’t feel the same anymore. There isn’t much to change.
So she sucked in a breath. Wiped her tears. And let her heart break. Literally, her heart disjointed itself; it had to have because she felt it.
“Fine,” and she nodded and turned and walked away.
He didn’t know what just happened. And he didn’t react fast enough. Because suddenly she was in her car reapplying lipstick and dabbing her eyes, and then she was gone; driving away.
“Oh to hell with fine! That’s not fine!” And he sped away as well.
Two days later…
She was on her bed. Like nothing happened. Studying. She definitely didn’t feel the chasm in her chest. She definitely didn’t feel the exhaustion of two unrested weeks. She definitely wasn’t thinking about Stiles’ rejection. Nope; she had a test tomorrow. And assassins be damned if she didn’t pass it. Because one day, all this were-creature business would be a thing of the past… A whiskey-eyed boy would be a thing of the past.
They figured out the origin of the list. Check, one less problem for her. They knew who the benefactor is. Check, there goes another one. In a day they would act out their plan and defeat him and the assassins; check, check, check… And she would leave. Her mom is now in the know, and she isn’t all too thrilled. They weren’t just gonna sell the lake house now, they were gonna move altogether. And Lydia could have her normal life back. She could be popular again. She could put this banshee business aside. And she was praying for it sooner.
Bzzzz. She looked over to her phone.
New text from: Stiles
She opens the text: you home?
Types: no I’m not home.
Bzzzz: I’m outside, open up. Or I’ll have your mom do it.
“Dammit,” she slammed her book shut. And walked down the stairs to open the door.
“Who is it Lydia?” Her mom asks, hyper-aware that an assassin could be coming anytime before they act out their plan.
“It’s just Stiles,” she rolls her eyes.
“Oh, he hasn’t been over since– well it’s been a while.”
“Yeah, I know mom.”
And she opened the door. He was scratching the back of his neck. Despite his boldness over the phone, he looked pretty timid.
“Stiles,” she didn’t have any intention of letting him in.
“Lydia,” he had every intention of persuading her.
“Stiles! Oh do come in, it’s cold outside,” her mom really meant to say it’s dangerous outside. But she wouldn’t say it outright.
“Hi Ms. Martin.. If you don’t mind me asking why is there a for sale sign in the lawn?” He pointed his thumb the direction of the sign in their front yard.
“Oh, sweetie. We haven’t really told anyone yet, but Lydia and I decided it’s time to move. Too many unwanted memories here in Beacon.”
“You mean ‘you’ right? Lydia she doesn’t mean 'we’ right?” His eyes suddenly looked pleading. And he meant it innocently enough. Her mom’s eyes looked sad for him.
“Lydia, why don’t you both go upstairs and talk. Maybe he can help you pack,” Ms Martin squeezed his shoulder and left the room.
They went upstairs and Lydia started taping some boxes she didn’t want him looking into.
“Lyds,” she froze. She hadn’t heard him say that in a long time. Never thought she would again.
“Why did you come?”
“I’ve been trying to talk to you for two days, but you wouldn’t let me. And stuff got in the way… Lyds– talk to me.”
“I’m fine. We’re fine. There isn’t anything to say.”
“Then why are you moving?”
“Why would I tell you that?”
“No; answer the question.”
She looked at him, sparring his dominance in the situation. But he looked tired. Like she did. Like he did when the nogitsune took over. And she caved. She remembered what it was like to have thought she lost him.
“Because I can’t do this. I can’t live here and just deal with everything. It’s always there. The danger, the anxiety. It doesn’t go away. There is always something to fight. Something to kill. And I can’t do it, okay? Especially not without you. So there. You happy?”
He huffed, and flailed his arms around the room,“You think I’m happy? You think this was what I want? Lyds you’re leaving. You think I want to live in a perpetual horror film? You think I want you to hurt? To feel alone? God, Lydia! I’m in love with you, always have been. So no I’m not happy. And I’m friggin sorry!”
“What?” She was dazed. And she blinked to come to reality.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve been there. And I wasn’t. Not even as a friend. And that was shitty. And I’m sorry. Lyds, you’ve always been in my heart. Since third the grade. That never went away. And I’m sorry I didn’t show it enough when I was with Malia but it got confusing. But I could’ve been a better friend.”
“You’re not with Malia anymore?”
“No, I lied to her. She doesn’t trust me anymore. So that’s the end of it.”
“Don’t be. It wasn’t about you. It was my
“I’m still sorry. She made you happy.”
“Yeah… But she doesn’t break my heart like you do. The thought of her leaving doesn’t scar me like it does with you. I miss her, don’t hear me wrong. But Lyds. You were my first love. You may not have loved me back, but I wouldn’t have known what unconditional love was without you. I wouldn’t have know where to start without you…. Lyds don’t go.”
“I have to.”
“Because I’ve already made the decision! And one incredibly versed speech isn’t gonna change that!”
“It was that good huh!” He stepped closer.
“No. Because I’m not even doubting my
resolve.” She stepped back.
“Then why’d you step back?” Stepped closer.
“I didn’t.” She stepped back again. He raised his eyebrows. She blushed.
“Lydia-” and she looked into his eyes.
“You hurt me,” she tried to distance herself again, but the box in her back stopped her. She looked away.
“I’m sorry,” he pinched her chin with his thumb and finger lifting her face to look at him.
“I’m sorry, too.”
“I know,” and he pulled in her for a hug. Her body tucking into his perfectly. Her head resting on it’s rightful place on his shoulder. And she felt whole again.
“I’m still moving,” she mumbled regretfully. That reality was still alive and it broke her heart; that much was in her voice. He chuckled.
“Well I waited nine years Lydia, a little bit of long distance isn’t gonna stop me now,” and they pulled apart. His rueful smile was bittersweet but genuine. And this was why she loved him. It may have been too late, but she still loved him.
“Stay tonight? Please. I don’t want to be alone before tomorrow.”
He smiled and kissed her hair, breathing her in,“where else would I go?”
And that night, despite the supernatural and despite their fears; they slept. Together…