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#sighs. had to take a step back the night before last
antiquarianfics · 3 days
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Accidental pt. 2
What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?
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pairing: mob!bucky x reader
warning(s): canon level violence, kidnapping, profanity
a/n: the comments on the last pt. were so affirming, omg. thanks, guys. anyway, here's a second part. ig the same idea stands: if this does well, maybe i'll do a pt. 3?
part 1
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"You're looking for a man by the name of Barnes, James Barnes. He's the owner of the bar you took me from, and he's the head of the Barnes Family. He'll have the answers you're looking for."
"Where can I find him?"
The man grins, a dashing smile.
“I’m right here, Doll.”
Somehow, against your instincts, you manage not to take a step back. You keep your feet planted in front of the man, eye twitching a little, jaw clenching.
“You’re James Barnes?” You say, voice devoid of any real emotion.
“Disappointed? Looking for someone less handsome?” He shoots you a cheeky grin.
You scoff. “More like I wasn’t expecting to kidnap a mob boss.”
James laughs, a genuine laugh. “No, I bet you weren’t. However, I do have to say, I’m impressed. Not just anyone can take me by surprise.”
“How long?” You ask, ignoring his praise.
“What?” He raises an eyebrow.
“How long until your men come looking for you? I expected more time, but with you being in charge…” You trail off.
“Ah, yes.” He glances down at the very expensive watch on his wrist. “Well, if it’s 11 now, I’d say… ah. 7 hours before anyone notices.”
You raise an eyebrow. “That long? Really? Are you sure you’re important?”
He grins at you, a dashing grin. You shake your head slightly. You shouldn’t be thinking about his smile right now--you shouldn't be teasing him.
“Very. But my people know not to bother me at night. What I do on my own time is my business. You’re in the clear as long as I show up on time to my meeting. If I’m not there... Well, then people begin to worry.”
You let out an involuntary laugh. “In the clear? You're telling me I’m going to get away with kidnapping you? Actually, don't answer that. You're baiting me, and distracting me. I need answers. Back to my sister. Where is she?"
"I was wondering if you'd forgotten about that."
"Answer the question," you say, stepping forward and putting your knife back up against his throat. It seems to do the trick.
James' face grows serious, as if the man in front of you was no longer playing around with you and had switched into his regular business persona.
"She's alive."
You let out a relieved breath. Alive is something. Alive is good.
"Where are you keeping her?"
"Well, doll, I can't just tell you that."
"Sure you can," you say, repeating your words from earlier.
He smirks, "Why don't you just take the knife away from my throat first? I'm precious goods."
You roll your eyes at him, but you pull the knife away. You hold the knife up to him as if to say I will pull this out again and set it down on the table a few feet away, and as you turn around, you pull a chair from the same table up to James, placing it right in front of him. You sit, an expectant look upon your face.
"Look, doll, why don't you just go ahead and untie me now that you've put that knife away, and we can have a friendly talk about this?" He asks.
You scoff, yet again. This man, you think, is insufferable.
"Try again, pretty boy."
"So you think I'm pretty?" He smirks.
"I think you're annoying, and I think you know where my sister is. So, how about you stop wasting my time and tell me what I want to know?"
He sighs dramatically and lets his head roll to the side as if he's bored before lifting it to look you directly in the eye.
"Like I said before, she owed me something she couldn't repay."
"What's that?"
"That information's gonna cost you, sweetheart."
"You're in no position to be negotiating right now," you say indignantly.
"Sure I am. Don't forget I'm the most powerful man in Brooklyn."
"Don't forget you're tied up and I have a gun."
"You wouldn't shoot me."
"Fucking try me, doll."
He laughs, a real, genuine laugh. "Agree to my terms, sweetheart, and I'll tell you anything you want to know."
You huff. "What are your terms?"
"'Atta girl!" He exclaims cheerily.
You grab your pistol from its holster at your side and aim it at the man in front of you, resting the gun on your thigh. He glances down at it before raising his gaze back up to you. He clears his throat, but something tells you it's not because he is nervous.
"Go on a date with me."
Your eyebrows shoot up. He's joking, you think. A date?
"A date?"
"A date."
"You want to go on a date with the woman who knocked you out, dragged you to an unknown location, tied you up, is demanding information from you, and is currently pointing a gun at you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I have my reasons."
"How do I know you won't just kill me when I show up?"
"Because that wouldn't be very gentleman like of me. My mama raised me better."
"You're a mob boss. You extort and kill people for a living."
He shrugs. "Well, what do you say? Do we have a deal?"
"No," you say.
"No?" He asks, confused.
"I have my own conditions." James tilts his head slightly as a signal to go on.
"You've already confirmed that my sister is alive which confirms you have her locked up somewhere. You will let her go and forgive her debt for whatever the hell it is that she owes you. Do that and once she is safely at home and I've laid eyes on her, you can have that date. Do we have a deal?"
James is staring at you, and as much as you hate it, you can't read him. Your heart is pounding, and you're hoping, praying even, that you've not pushed too far.
"Deal."
You blink once, twice before it registers that he has accepted the deal. Damn, you think, he really wants that date.
"Have her home by... What time was your meeting again? 7? Have her home safely by 7 tomorrow," you say, standing up from where you sat in front of him. You begin to move around the basement, picking up your things that you had brought with you in the whole kidnapping ordeal. Once you've collected your things, you start walking towards the stairs to leave. "If she isn't there, the deal's off."
"You're just going to leave me here?" James asks, pulling at his arm restraints.
You look over your shoulder at him and smile at him. "You're a mob boss, doll, I'm sure you'll get out of there in time." Then, with that, you ascend the stairs.
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@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis
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There's No Hope In Endless Winter
Natasha has been gone on a long mission, so when she comes home, she just wants to spend time with you. But, you have news for her.
A/N: Yeahhhh, sorry bout this one- I also couldn't seem to come up with a decent summary sooooo...yeah. It's angsty and not really happy at all. Just kinda sad, all the way around.
TW: Panic/Anxiety, Depression, Reader has a medical emergency
Word Count: 4.5k
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With a ghost-like silence, Natasha Romanoff floated into the bedroom of her shared New York apartment. It had been three long months since she had been on her no-contact S.H.I.E.L.D. mission, jetting her across the world to track and assassinate a major drug kingpin after infiltrating his cartel for vital information. She could hardly contain her excitement to see your face again, to feel the warmth of your body in her arms. The room was pitch-black, but even in the darkness, she could make out the familiar outline of their bed. You must have fallen asleep hours ago, presumably exhausted from your work as a personal trainer.
Natasha's muscles ached from the long flight and the countless hours of physical exertion during her mission. She stripped off her clothes, revealing her toned, scarred body, and crawled under the sheets. The bed's softness and the sheets' coolness felt like heaven after so many nights spent on hard mattresses, back seats, and cold floors. She snuggled in close to you, breathing in your familiar scent, and let out a contented sigh. Nat buried her face into the crook of your neck, causing you to sigh. Even though she knew that you were fast asleep, she couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging in your shared space. 
Natasha being gone always sent your emotions in a spiral. The anxiety and panic that she felt on any given day only worsened as time went on. Your constant worry for your wife would typically result in you holed up in Natasha's room at the compound, drowning yourself in Natasha's clothes, burrowed into her bed until she returned. It was actions like this that had Wanda and Clint checking in with you regularly when they weren't on their missions.
It was one of these check-ins that finally forced a hand for you. Wanda had stopped by, worried because you, her best friend hadn't been responding to her messages or calls. When Wanda went to your gym, the manager said you had been canceling all your appointments. This was highly unlike you, as you had been known as a reliable, punctual trainer. Wanda's attention was piqued. 
"What do you mean, she's been canceling?" an incredulous tone came from the brunette.
"She hasn't shown up for any of her clients for the last week and a half," the manager said, shrugging helplessly. "I've tried calling her, but she never picks up. She left a note on her desk, and has called all her clients herself, telling them they can schedule with someone else."
"When was her last session?" Wanda probed further. 
"Monday," he stated flatly, as he was walking around wiping down some of the equipment. "She was training with one of her regulars and passed out. We sent her home after she refused to take an ambulance. We asked her to stay home for a couple of days, rest, and relax. Apparently, she needed more than that."
This concerned Wanda, so she decided to check on you. She thought you had been doing better in Natasha's absences. As she approached your room, she could hear the soft snores coming from within. Taking a deep breath, she carefully opened the door, revealing you curled up in a ball on the bed. Your usually neat hair was a messy tangle around your head, and you were wearing one of Natasha's oversized shirts. Seeing her friend like this tugged at Wanda's heartstrings.
"Hey Y/N," she whispered, stepping into the room. "You okay?"
You let out a soft groan but didn't stir. Wanda walked over to the bed and gently nudged you awake. "Hey, wakey, wakey. It's me, Wanda. Honey, what's wrong?"
You mumbled something incoherent before burying your face into the pillow, trying to block out the world. "I can't do this anymore," you finally manage to get out. "I miss her so much." 
Wanda sighed, rubbing your back in a comforting manner.
"I know you miss her, Y/N. We all do. But you can't let it consume you like this. You're not being fair to yourself. Natasha would want you to take care of yourself and be strong." Her voice was soft and gentle. "Look at you. You're not eating right, you're not sleeping, and you're not working out. You're not the Y/N I know."
You sighed, looking out the window to avoid the green orbs that were looking straight back at you. "I know," you curl into yourself further. "But, I need her here Wands. I'm scared and alone."
Wanda frowns, sitting down on the bed next to you. "You're not alone, Y/N. You've got all of us. We're your family. We're here for you." She reaches over and takes your hand, squeezing it. "You know that, right?"
You look over at her, your expression softening slightly. "Yeah, I know." You take a deep breath and wipe your eyes. 
"Now, Y/N. When was the last time you ate more than a protein bar or a banana?" Wanda asked, looking at the fruit peels in the trash and the wrappers on your nightstand. "Your boss told me you fainted at work."
You shrugged, "I'm not sure. A few days ago?"
Wanda rolled her eyes. "Okay, that's it. You're coming with me. We're going out to eat. You can't keep living off of protein bars and bananas. You need real food." She helped you up off the bed and led you to the bathroom to wash your face. 
"Wanda?"
"Yes?"
"I don't feel right."
"You're not feeling right because you're not eating right," Wanda replied, giving you a reassuring pat on the back. "Come on, let's get some food and then we can talk about how you're going to get back on track with your training. You're better than this, Y/N." She stops when she realizes that you're standing firm in the middle of your room. You look pale, eyes sunken in, and like you haven't been sleeping. 
"That's not what I mean, Wanda."
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I feel...off. Not just because I'm not eating right. Something...else. It's like..." You trailed off, struggling to find the words.
Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder, her expression concerned. "Y/N, do you think you might be coming down with something? You seem to be feeling under the weather lately."
"Maybe," you mumble, rubbing your arm. "I don't know. It's just...weird."
"Tell me what your symptoms are, Y/N."
You sigh, trying to wrap your head around how you've been feeling of late. "It started when I was in the middle of a training session..." you started.
Wanda's eyes widened, "What? You kept going even when you didn't feel right?" You nodded, and her frown deepened. She led you back to the bed, so you could sit down.
"Do you have a fever?" she asked, feeling your forehead. You shook your head. "What about chills?" She glanced at the air conditioner, which was blowing cool air. "No, I guess not."
"Not a fever, but I've been getting terrible night sweats."
Wanda raised an eyebrow, "Night sweats? That's not good."
You shrugged, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze. "I'm just not myself, Wanda. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"What else have you been feeling?" she asked further, rubbing your knee comfortingly.
"My muscles ache all the time. And I'm just...tired." You yawned, rubbing your eyes. "Even when I sleep, I don't feel rested."
Wanda frowned. "This doesn't sound good. You should probably go see a doctor." She paused, looking at you with concern. 
"I'm scared, Wanda."
Wanda took your hand and squeezed it. "Hun, it's just a doctor's visit. It'll be ok." You shook your head, just wanting this conversation to be over. "You probably just caught a bug or something."
The next day, the two of you made your way to the doctor's office, where Wanda sat with you through the entire vitals process. The nurse turned to you after gathering some information and asked you if you wanted Wanda there during the following line of questioning.
"No, that's fine," you mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed. 
"So, what brings you in today? Your notes on the check-in sheet are pretty vague."
You took a deep breath, not sure where to begin. "Well, I've been feeling really tired lately. Like I can't sleep, even when I want to. And my muscles ache all the time. It's been going on for a few weeks now, and it's starting to get to me." the nurse jotted some things down, before allowing you to continue. 
"I have been feeling sluggish and sore for 2-3 weeks, I just thought it was me pushing my workouts too far at first."
The nurse nodded sympathetically and continued her questions. "Have you noticed any changes in your appetite or weight?" You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to admit to Wanda that you hadn't been eating right. "Well, I haven't been eating as much as I should have, but I don't think I've lost or gained any weight." The nurse made some more notes. "Well, Y/N, it does look like you have lost some weight since your last visit 4 months ago. Have you been experiencing any night sweats or fevers?"
You shook your head. "Just the sweats, but not as bad as they used to be." You glanced over at Wanda, who was looking at you with concern. "I've been feeling...off, you know? Just not myself."
"Is there anything else?"
"Yes," you stutter. Wanda's eyes shot up at this admission. "I was helping one of my clients use the pulldown machine, demonstrating what I wanted them to do." the nurse continued to take notes, indicating for you to go on. Wanda shifted in her seat as you continued. "I felt a grab in my underarm like I was using the machine wrong," you sighed. "The pain continued throughout the day, and wouldn't go away. I didn't think anything of it till I got home."
"And when you got home, what happened?" the nurse prompted.
"Well, I felt sore all over, but especially my chest, for some reason," you started, Wanda covering her mouth as you recounted what happened. "So, while I took a bath to try and loosen up, I checked both armpits to see if there was something I was missing. I kinda probed and kneaded at my underarms, and felt a large bump, here." you lifted your arm, indicating where you felt the lump.
"And what did the lump feel like?" the nurse asked, scribbling more notes.
"It wasn't hard or anything, but it was...different," you said, struggling to find the words. "It just didn't feel like the rest of my skin." You glanced at Wanda, who was looking at you with a mixture of shock and concern. "At first, I thought it was just a knot or something, but it's been there for days now, and it's not going away."
The nurse nodded, making some more notes. "I see. Well, I'm going to have the doctor look at this when we're done with your vitals. Just give me a call if there's anything else you think might be important."
As the nurse left the room, Wanda grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. "Oh, hun, I'm so sorry. I had no idea this was going on. Why didn't you call me?"
"I didn't want to worry you," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I thought it was just a knot or something. I didn't realize..." Your voice trailed off as you fought back tears.
The examination room door opened, and the doctor came in. "Y/N, hello," he said, offering his hand. "I understand you've been experiencing some discomfort. Why don't you tell me about it, and we'll see what we can do."
You related the story again, feeling embarrassed but relieved to have someone who seemed to take you seriously. The doctor listened carefully, nodding along, and then asked to feel the lump in your armpit. "Hmm...I'm going to need to get some tests done to determine what's going on here. In the meantime, I want you to rest as much as possible, and avoid any strenuous activity until we know more. Okay?"
"Okay," you replied, feeling a mix of relief and fear. 
The doctor gave you a reassuring smile. "We'll get to the bottom of this, don't worry. We're running your blood and plasma panels, and took a sample from the lump in your underarm." He stood, reaching out his cold hand for you to shake. "We'll run these preliminary tests, and call you with the results."
You nodded, still feeling a little uneasy. As you stood, the weight of the situation began to settle heavily in your chest. You glanced over at Wanda, who was rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms, clearly upset. "Are you okay?" you asked her.
"Honey, I should be asking you that," she offered you a weak smile, helping you out of the doctor's chair.
As you made your way out of the clinic, Wanda wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. "I'm going to be right here with you, okay? No matter what it is." You nodded, grateful for her support. 
"Wanda?"
"Yeah, sweetie?"
"Is there really no way we can get a hold of Natasha?"
Wanda sighed, resting her head against yours. "I've been calling her all morning, but she hasn't answered. I even sent her a few texts, but when she goes no contact, that means no contact."
You nodded, understanding the unspoken rule. Even though you knew it was for her safety, it still hurt that you couldn't talk to her. You felt so alone like you were the only one going through this.
"I'm terrified, Wanda. I've never felt like this before."
Wanda hugged you tighter, her warmth offering some comfort. "I know, hon. I'm scared too. But we're going to get you through this. We'll find out what's wrong, and we'll fix it. You hear me?"
You nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, I hear you. Thanks, Wanda."
**
The sun was starting to peek through the blinds when Natasha finally stirred. She pulled you in tighter, realizing you felt considerably thinner than she remembered. You were seemingly dead to the world, breathy snores coming from you as you tossed and turned. Natasha decided she would surprise you, so she quickly rose, kissing your forehead before running to the shower to clean up.
She knew she'd have to tread carefully when she emerged, but the anticipation of seeing your face light up was too much. As she dried her hair, she slipped on her tank top and shorts before padding over to the bed. You were still fast asleep, so she decided to head down to the kitchen, starting breakfast so you both could enjoy each other's company over a warm meal.
Coffee brewed, she laid out a spread of fruit, toast, and eggs. The scent of food wafting up the stairs drew you out of your slumber, unfortunately making your stomach churn. You wondered why Wanda was making you some food so early in the morning.
You padded into the kitchen, still half-asleep, and were greeted by the sight of Natasha, your Natasha, wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts, her hair still slightly damp from her shower. She smiled at you, a warmth spreading through your chest. "Good morning," she purred, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "I missed you, babe."
You returned her smile, albeit with an empty one. "Missed you too," you mumbled, reaching for the coffee pot. "Smells great." Natasha frowned at the lack of emotion from you, immediately becoming concerned.
She poured you a cup of coffee and set it in front of you, then sat down at the breakfast bar, watching you carefully. "Are you feeling okay, sweetheart? You don't look so well." You shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. "I'm just a little tired, that's all."
Natasha frowned, not quite convinced. "You're sure you don't want to tell me what's wrong? Maybe I can help." You looked up at her, feeling instantly guilty once you saw her expression.
"I'm sure it's nothing, really," You started. "I just...I had some tests done while you were gone."Her face softened as she reached across the counter to take your hand.
"What kind of tests, sweetheart?"
"I don't want to spring this on you right now, Nat. You just got home."
Natasha squeezed your hand gently. "You know you can tell me anything, babe. I'm here for you, through thick and thin." Her eyes pleaded with you to confide in her, and despite your best efforts to keep her out of the loop, you found yourself wanting to tell her everything.
"Okay," you finally said, taking a deep breath. "It's not something I want to talk about right now, but I will. Just...not today, okay?"
Natasha nodded, understanding that you needed time. "Okay, hun. Take your time. We can talk about it whenever you're ready. In the meantime, why don't we enjoy breakfast together? It's the least I can do while you're going through this."
"That's okay, Nat. I'm not very hungry. But you can have whatever."
She smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. "Are you sure? I made plenty."
You nodded, forcing a smile. "It looks great, though. Thanks, Nat." You worked your way slowly to the confines of your bedroom, stopping to look at your washed-out appearance. You were pale, your cheeks somewhat hallowed. The dark rings and bags under your eyes made you look like a member of the Addams family.
Natasha followed behind you, still in her tank top and shorts, concern etched into her features. "Do you want me to help you get ready for bed? Maybe take a nap with you?" she offered, her voice soft and gentle. You shook your head. "No, I just want to be alone for a bit. I'll be okay." She frowned, but nodded, knowing that these long missions were always rough for the both of you, and you often needed your own space. As you lay in bed, awaiting the call from your doctor, Natasha called Wanda.
"Hey Wands, it's me."
“Nat! Oh, my goodness it’s good to hear your voice, darling!” she started. “I bet Y/N is so glad to have you home.”
“Actually, Wanda, that’s why I’m calling.”
There was a slight pause on the other end of the line before Wanda replied, "Oh? Is everything alright?"
"Well, I wanted to check with you," Natasha began, taking a deep breath. "Y/N and I have been together for a long time, you know that. And we've been through our share of ups and downs. But something is going on right now that I feel she's not telling me, and I'm really worried about her."
There was a moment of silence on the line before Wanda spoke. "What makes you think that?" she asked, her voice gentle.
"I just know her," Natasha replied, her voice tight with worry. "She's not herself. She's distant, and I can tell she's not eating. It's like she's carrying a weight on her shoulders that I can't even begin to understand. I just want to help her, you know?"
Wanda was quiet for a moment, considering her words. "I understand where you're coming from, Natasha."
"I feel like there's a 'but' coming, Max."
"Because there is, Romanoff."
Natasha winced at the use of her last name. She knew Wanda could be annoying that way, but it still hurt sometimes. "I know Y/N doesn't want me to know or worry right now, but I need to help her. I'm her partner, her support. I can't just stand by and watch her suffer in silence."
There was a long pause on the line before Wanda finally spoke. "I understand that, Natasha. You're a good friend and a good wife. And I know you'll do whatever you can to help her through this." Her voice softened. "But I also want you to understand that this might not be the best time to push her. She's been through a lot, and she needs some time to process everything on her terms."
Natasha sighed, a deep pit forming in her stomach at the thought of what could be going on. "Wanda?" A silence followed before a hum indicated Natasha to continue. "What happened while I was gone?"
"Oh, you know," Wanda replied lightly, her tone belied by the worry in her voice. "The usual. Just the constant threat of nuclear war, a power-hungry megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur, and a team of highly skilled operatives trying to keep the world safe while balancing their personal lives."
"Wanda, that's not what I meant."
"I know, Nat. I'm just trying to make light of a very serious situation. Y/N's been keeping a lot of things bottled up. She needs time to process everything, and I think she's afraid that talking to you will make it all real. She needs you to be supportive, but she also needs her space."
There was another silence on the line before Natasha spoke. "I understand. I'll give her time, but I'm here for her whenever she's ready."
"That's all you can do, Natasha. That means a lot to her, I know it. And if there's anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask."
"Thanks, Max."
Wanda's voice was soft, bidding Nher a good day. Natasha could hear the genuine concern behind it. She knew that Wanda would be there for her and Y/N, even if she wasn't always the most subtle about it. They were both so different, but they had been through so much together. They had become a family of sorts, even though they were all from different worlds.
Natasha took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness, like she was floating in the dark, searching for a lifeline. But she knew that she had to be strong for Y/N, even when she felt like she was about to crumble herself. Setting her phone on the counter, she put away all the food before heading towards the living room, sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee, contemplating what you could possibly need to tell her. After what felt like hours, she went to the bedroom, gently knocking on the door.
"Hun, do you mind if I come in?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. There was a pause, and then she heard the click of the door opening. Natasha stood in the doorway, taking in your eyes red and puffy from crying.
"I, uh... I was just about to take a nap. Do you want to join me?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. She walked over to the bed and sat down gently beside you.
"I would love to, sweetheart," she breathed deeply, reaching her arm around your shoulders. "But first, I need to know that you're okay." The statement makes your heart clench, knowing that you are worrying Natasha after such a long and strenuous mission when she should be relaxing and enjoying her time with you.
"I'm... I'm as okay as I can be, I guess," you mumble, your voice still hoarse from earlier sobs. "It's just... a lot, you know? A lot to process." Natasha nods, pulling you closer as she wraps both arms around you.
"Darling, what is a lot to process?" Natasha's voice was soft, almost tentative, and you could feel her heart beating against your back as she held you close. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves before speaking. You were spinning your cell phone in your hands, nervous to tell your wife what happened while she was gone. 
"Let me start at the beginning, Nat." you lay your head on Natasha's shoulder, ready to detail all that led up to your phone call this morning.
As you speak, Natasha holds you close, occasionally kissing the top of your head or running her fingers through your hair to offer comfort. She listens intently, her expression shifting between surprise, confusion, concern, and anger as you recount the events that unfolded while she was gone.
When you finish, there's a long silence as Natasha processes the information. You can feel her heart racing in her chest, and she seems to be struggling to find the right words. Finally, she takes a deep breath and says, "Oh, sweetheart." Her voice is full of empathy and understanding, but there's also a note of worry. "What did the doctors say was the result of your tests?"
Your eyes tear up, as your lip quivers. You get up and go to stand across the room from your wife, afraid to let her see you so vulnerable, so weak. "I have breast cancer, Nat."
Natasha's face falls, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Oh, Y/N," she whispers, taking a step toward you. "My baby, I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you." Tears begin to stream down her face, and she reaches out to hold you, but you flinch, taking another step back. "I'm here for you. No matter what. I love you, and I'm here to help you through this. In sickness and in health, remember?"
You shake your head, feeling overwhelmed. "I just... I don't know how to do this. How am I supposed to fight this? And what about us? What about our future?" Your voice breaks on the last word, and you sink down to the floor, buried in a ball, unable to hold back the sobs that have been building inside you since you first heard the news.
Natasha rushed to your side, quickly scooping up your body and holding you impossibly close. "Honey, our future isn't in question. I'm not going to let anything happen to you," she whispered into your hairline, kissing it.
"But, what happens if you get sent out on a mission again? What happens if you don't come back to me, Natasha? I can't do this without you."
Natasha's arms tightened around you, holding you as close as she possibly could. "Y/N, you are my whole world. I would never abandon you. You are my priority, now more than ever. We will get through this together. No matter what. I promise." She paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "I know it's scary right now, but we'll find the best doctors, we'll get the best treatment. And we'll fight this together. You're stronger than you know, and I'm right here by your side, supporting you every step of the way."
You sniffled, wiping your nose on your sleeve, and leaned into her embrace. "I'm scared, Natasha. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to leave us."
Natasha pressed her lips to your forehead, her breath warm against your skin. "I know it's hard, baby. But you're not going to leave me. You're going to fight this, and we're going to fight it together. We're going to beat it, okay? She held you there for what felt like an eternity, rocking you gently back and forth. "We're going to fight this together, you and me. We're going to be strong, and we're going to get through this. I promise you, Y/N.“
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Text
Imagine Hangman Trying To Convince You To Go Out With Him
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Jake 'Hangman' Seresin X FemReader
Rating: T
Warnings: Beer, flirtations, and teasing
Word Count: 1.4k
(A/N:) Wow! Look at me having a Top Gun idea in what seems like forever! I always love going back to movies I wrote so much for! But sometimes it takes a hot minute to get imagine ideas, but I had this idea a few weeks ago and it's been a little bit of a pain to get it from my brain into a post. But I finally succeeded and hopefully this makes the Hangman/ Glen Powell fangirlies happy! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess
Taglist: @chaoticcassidy, @the-marshals-wife, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp
The Hard Deck was more rowdy than it had been in awhile. With the Top Gun pilots celebrating a hard won victory, them and everyone on base had came in to celebrate. It was busy enough that Penny called in backup to help serve the rambunctious pilots who deserved every drink they ordered. It wasn't often that she called you in, but when Penny did you knew that the night was going to be a crazy one. You had a reputation amongst the pilots, as being no nonsense and out right refusing any advances towards you before the navy men even finished a sentence. While the rumors kept the majority of would be suitors away, it only made the top pilots in Top Gun more bold.
With drink orders coming in so fast that you were barely able to keep up with them. Penny stayed close by picking up the orders you couldn't handle and ringing up tabs. You didn't pay much attention to the people that came to the counter until a familiar uniform caught your eye.
"Give me just a second and I'll be right with you," you handed off two beer bottles before setting into opening several more.
"I'll wait all night for you if that's what it takes," the pilot replied.
You stiffened, recognizing that voice. He was a notorious flirt and never knew when to take no for an answer. It wasn't your first time dealing with him and this moment would not be the last either. No matter how many times you shot him down he always kept coming back, always cocky and sure of himself.
A few moments ago...
Hangman didn't know the definition of the word defeat and he had his eye on the prize. And that was taking out the most difficult female bartender in the Hard Deck's lineup.
"Dude," Coyote tugged on Hangman's arm stopping the pilot in his tracks. "When are you going to give up? She's shot down more pilots than Maverick has and Rooster crashed and burned just last night with her."
"That's Rooster," Hangman scoffed. "I'm different."
"No you're not. What is this the third time you've tried?"
"Fourth."
Coyote rolled his eyes but watched Hangman walk away.
Now....
"Oh great," you sighed, "it's you again."
Hangman chuckled leaning against the counter, trying to get as close as possible. You took a step back, removing the last bottle cap a little violently and passing the drinks out. Grabbing more you glared at him sending a cap flying in his direction.
"Aren't you glad to see me," Hangman asked.
"Not particularly. I don't have time for you."
"And here I thought that the whole world had time for me," he smirked.
Rolling your eyes you turned away, another group of people calling for your attention. But still though you had walked away, Hangman stayed. His eyes never leaving you, watching you closely. You tried ignoring him, but when that didn't work, you glared. That only made his grin widen and he gave you a little wave. You slammed glasses down a little harder than necessary as your patience was wearing thin.
"Why do we have to do this every time?"
"Because," Hangman purred, "I don't like taking no for an answer."
"I noticed."
Watching you intensely while you grabbed another bottle of beer, you removed the cap and took Hangman's hand. His fingers immediately curled around yours and you slapped them back open, causing him to jolt before you placed the cold glass bottle in his palm, then wrapped his fingers around it and waved your hand in a 'shoo' motion. Digging some money from your tip jar, you put the cash into the register, 'Shoo. It's on me. Have a nice life Bagman."
Hangman laughed, defeated once more but not done in the slightest as he made his way back to the pilots crowding into one corner of the bar. Laughing at him and pointing fingers in his direction. What they didn't know was he was wounded, but not crashing and burning just yet. He saw that glint in your eyes and he had to sink the hook in a little more and he would have you.
Hours later and Penny flipped the sign and locked the door. You were finishing cleaning up the last bit of the bar when a check was waved in front of your face.
"Thank you so much for coming in and helping out," she said taking a seat.
"No problem," you replied putting the check in your pocket.
"I see Hangman has taken quite a liking to you," she grinned mischeviously.
"Ugh," you rolled your eyes, "don't remind me."
"He's not a bad guy."
"Sure if you like egotistical pilot maniacs. He's very obnoxious."
"Isn't that what makes him charming?"
"Absolutely not!"
Penny laughed before taking the rag from your hands, "Go on and go home. It's getting late."
"Let me know whenever you need help again."
Penny waved and you made sure to lock the door behind you. She wasn't lying that it was getting late as the sun had long ago set and quiet had settled over the beach. It was always a little creepy, especially the walk to your car. Normally you weren't scared but it was just a little off putting when no one was around and anything could happen.
"Leaving already?"
A voice sounded close by your shoulder causing you to jump and spin around. Hangman started to laugh at your startled expression, causing you to start punching him in the shoulder.
"Don't do that to me!"
"I was hoping you'd jump into my arms instead, I wasn't taking into account that you're a fighter. Can you please stop hitting me now?"
"Depends," you were fuming, "are you ready to stop being a jerk?!"
"Not particularly."
"Then I'm not done beating you yet!"
He let you get in a few more whacks before grabbing your fist and keeping a firm grip on it. You sucked in a breath, gaze flickering from his face to your joined hands back again to his face. He never stopped smiling.
"C'mon let me walk you to your car," Hangman cut the silence. The tension eased from your body and you tried yanking your hand away, only for him to tighten his grip. You huffed but relented, though you did start to protest when he intertwined your fingers together.
You could admit to yourself, that you did feel better that you weren't walking alone in the dark. Hangman had been waiting, not wanting to give up just yet as he really did like you. He just enjoyed aggravating you because you were so easily riled up.
"If you felt uncomfortable walking alone you could have said something to me," he mumbled rubbing at his neck.
"I appreciate it," you looked away squeezing his hand. "Maybe you aren't that major of an egotistical jerk."
Hangman laughed, releasing your hand so you can grab your car keys. "That makes me feel better then."
You unlocked the door and he opened the driver side door before you could even reach for the handle. Ushering you in he closed the door, letting you get buckled before leaning against the door. You rolled the window down and he stuck his head in.
"Thank you," you picked at the threads on the steering wheel.
"You're welcome," he tapped his fingers against your arm. "Does this mean that I'm growing on you?"
"Possibly."
"Think you could stomach a date with me?"
"I'll think about it."
"A kiss for your knight in a pilot uniform," he pointed to his lips.
"Absolutely not," you laughed rolling the window up causing him to hurry up and yank his head out. You backed up leaving Hangman in the headlights as he waved at you. For such a smug Top Gun pilot he could actually be really sweet. He wouldn't give up and you could respect that so for the first time you broke down.
Quickly rolling the window back down as you drove away you yelled out the window.
"Hey Bagman! Pick me up here tomorrow evening and buy me dinner!"
He laughed loudly, "It's a date!"
"Sure it is!"
You drove off, leaving an extremely happy pilot behind.
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kpop---scenarios · 3 days
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Monster (2)
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Pairing: Chan x Reader x Felix
Genre: Mafia, Arranged Marriage
Warning: Swearing, Mentions of blood etc
Word Count: 3k
Taglist: @gloriajovicc @bluebeard67 @stephanieeeyang @mouseyboo @stayatinykatsy @thicccurls @thecutiepieme @maisyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @kayleefriedchicken @msauthor @chloe-elise-2000
One |
“Are you sure you're okay?” Chan asks, glancing back to where your supposed boyfriend had previously stood. You watched as he walked off with his partner, part of you now felt like there was more to the story, but you weren't going to admit that right now.
“Yeah I'm fine.” You smile. “But I do think I'm going to go. Thank you both for a wonderful night, let's do it again.” You smile. You move out of the booth as fast as you can, trying to get away before either of them can say anything to you. Even if Seojoon and you weren't in the best place in your relationship, why was he lying to you about where he was? If he had told you he wanted to go out with some coworkers, you wouldn't have cared.
As soon as you stepped outside, the cool air hitting you in the face, your body cooled down immensely. You hadn't realized how hot you had felt, from being flustered with Seojoon or from being around Felix and Chan - you weren't sure. You pull out your phone, clicking your boyfriend's contact, you place the phone up to your ear as you walk to the edge of the sidewalk to hail a cab.
The phone continues to ring, and ring and ring. Once you get into your cab, you hang up the call, telling the driver your address to take you home. You enter your shared apartment and the feeling of loneliness consumes you. The quietness is so fucking loud, you can feel it in your heart. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to remember a good memory here you had with Seojoon, something, anything but no matter how much you tried, all your happy memories were things you did here alone, or times that you were alone here which was more often than not, and you didn't mind it. Which should say something. That night you laid in your bed, trying to dream about your boyfriend, but found yourself dreaming about two other men instead.
In the morning you woke up to the sounds of dishes banging in the kitchen. You got out of bed, walked to the kitchen rubbing your eyes, you saw your boyfriend, shirtless, flour and other ingredients all over the counter and breakfast cooking on the stove.
“What's this?” You ask, rubbing your eyes.
“Good morning.” He smiles. “I'm making breakfast.”
“I can see that.” You chuckle. “But why?” You ask. Seojoon stares at you, almost like he's trying to study your face to see what you know. Did he see you last night?
“I can't make breakfast for my girlfriend?” He asks, turning back to the stove.
“You can, you just never have. So I'm a little confused.” You say. You weren't lying and he knew that.
“What did you get up to last night?” He asks, completely avoiding answering your question.
“I went to the club with some new friends.” You told him. “Was work very busy last night?” You ask.
“Yeah it was. But we had some down time, so I went for dinner with the guys. Other than that it was pretty uneventful.. same old, same old.” He says. “Who are your new friends?”
You watch him bring his coffee cup up to his lips. His eyes are watching you intensely. “Bang Chan and Lee Felix.” You say. Seojoon chokes on his coffee, spitting some out while he coughs on the rest. He sets down his cup as he tries to catch his breath but you don't move. That was a weird reaction to the names, it made the wheels in your head spin.
“W..wrong..tube.” He gasps, practically coughing up a lung.
“I hate when that happens.” you sigh. “Do you know them?” You ask.
“No, no, how would I know them?” He awkwardly laughs. “How did you meet them?” He wonders.
“At my dad's party.” You say.
He nods his head. “Did you have fun? You know, I don't think I've ever met your friends before.” He smiles. “We should change that.”
“This change is weird and sudden.” You whisper.
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“I was going to talk to you today. About how alone in this relationship I feel. And how I feel like you're lying to me about something.”
Seojoon looks at you, with a look you don't quite understand before he smiles widely, placing his hands on your arms before he plants a kiss on your forehead. “You worry too much. What are these friends of yours filling your head with?” He laughs. “I definitely need to meet them now to set them straight.” He laughs again. The most forced, and fake laugh that you had ever heard. He goes back to the stove, finishing making breakfast for the two of you.
You ate a little bit before, heading to the bathroom to shower. You weren't sure what the fuck was going on, but something felt so off but you indulged this new Seojoon. You weren't about to tell him no when he's becoming interested in certain aspects of your life because he's never done this before. Which is how you ended up sitting in a pub next to Seojoon, a drink in front of each of you as you waited for Chan and Felix to show up. When you had called the two of them to ask if they would meet with the two of you, they laughed so hard through the phone you were about to hang up on them, until they agreed, without you having to convince either of them to do it.
“Hi beautiful.” Chan says as he walks up to the table, smiling at you.
“You look stunning.” Felix grins, giving you a sly little wink. You glanced over at Seojoon, who looked unfazed by the nicknames from the two men across from you guys.
“You must be Seojoon.” Chan says, glaring at him. Felix didn't say a word, just stared at him, while Seojoon smiled widely.
“Nice to meet you two. You must be.. Bang chan.” He says, pointing to Chan. “And you Lee Felix.”
“You're right.” Felix says. “Good job.”
Silence around the table consumes you, making you feel so uncomfortable. You looked between the three men, Seojoon's eyes darting between Felix and Chan, Felix and Chan glaring hard at Seojoon and you sat there for a second, before the waitress walked by.
“Excuse me!” You yell. “I'm sorry, could we get some shots.. please.” You ask, begging her with your eyes. She looks around the table, feeling the tension between everyone.
“So.” You smile. “What are you guys doing tonight?” You ask Felix and Chan. They turn to look at you, smiling.
“We're actually going to your fathers house.” They announce. You look shocked. You had no idea anything was happening tonight.
“Oh? What's going on?” You ask.
“Just a late dinner, that's all. I told your dad I was seeing you this evening, and he told me to extend the invitation.. to you.” Chan explains.
Seojoon looks down at his phone before back up at you. “I gotta go to work.” He sighs. “I'm sorry..you.” He says. “You two.. make sure you take care of my girl.” He says, another forced laugh before he kisses your forehead. He slides out of the booth, walking away and out of the pub.
Chan and Felix both burst into laughter as soon as he's out of view. “Never, and I mean never, ask me to hangout with him again.” Felix laughs.
“I don't think I've ever been more uncomfortable sitting with a cop before.” Chan chuckles.
“He's not a cop, you guys.” You groan.
“Why does he walk like that?” Felix asks. “Cause he's a cop.”
“Why does he talk like that?” Chan asks. “Cause he's a cop.”
“Oh my god, would you two..” before you can finish, your waitress comes with your shots. You quickly take yours and Seojoon's before heading to your fathers.
Later that night, when you got home, Seojoon was already home, in bed and asleep. You were surprised, usually when he was called away it was at least a day before you saw him again. You quietly undressed yourself, got into your pj's and crawled into bed. You dozed off quickly to the faint sound of Seojoon snoring beside you. It didn't feel like you'd been asleep long enough when you're woken up to the sound of Seojoon answering his phone. You looked at your phone, it was 3:45 in the morning. Who the hell was calling him so early? As you tried to fall back asleep, you listened to him speak, only catching a few words here and there.
“Yes. YES.” He whispers. “Bang Chan.. Lee Felix.. big...us.”
Us. you think. A big what for us? And who is us? Why were Felix and Chan so important to him? You squeeze your eyes closed as you hear him try to quietly shuffle back into the room, crawling back into bed, falling asleep quickly, while you lay awake, thinking.
The next morning, Seojoon had gone to work before you had even woken up, like usual. You knew there was something going on with him, but you couldn't quite figure out what. Felix and Chan were still convinced he was a cop, but no, you didn't think he was able to pull that off. Later in the day, you called him, wanting to see if you could catch him in another lie.
“Hello?”
“Hey.” You begin. “Are you gonna be late today?” You ask. “I saw the big pile up on the news, how fucking awful. Are you working that accident?”
“Oh hi, um, yeah, I'm here now. It's so bad, babe. Like so bad. I probably won't be back until tomorrow, maybe the next day if I need to work extra. I'll call you, Kay? Oh gotta go.” He says, hanging up the call.
“That lying piece of fucking shit!” You scream. There was no pile up. You made it up to see what he would say and he fell right into the trap. You dial a different number this time, needing someone to talk to. “Hey. Are you guys busy?”
“You're sure?” Felix asks, glancing at Chan.
“What else could it be?” You sigh. “He's cheating on me.” You pout, taking a sip of your cocktail.
“He's a..” Chan begins.
“Stop it. He's not. There's no way. Look, I called him and asked him if he was working a pile up and he straight up lied to me about it.” You say. “I bet if I call him right now, he either won't answer or it'll be some other bullshit he spews.”
“Call him.” Felix says, gesturing to your phone. You finish your drink before dialing his number. Putting your phone on speaker and setting it on the table as you let it ring.
Ring
Ring
Ring
“Hello?”
Your eyes go wide, staring at both men, who stare back at you. It was a woman's voice. A woman's voice that you did not recognize. Your hand had never moved so fast to end a call before. Your screen goes black, with you sitting in silence, Felix and Chan unsure of what to say to you.
“I guess that's that.” You say. “Honestly, I thought I would have been sadder.” You chuckle. Truly, you felt fine, you almost felt a sense of relief. Like you finally had a reason to end things. You'd be able to get your apartment back, after he moved in sort of spur of the moment, with no discussion with you about it. A few months into dating, he came over with a whole bunch of shit, talking about how his lease expired and he thought it would be so fun to surprise you. A surprise was an understatement, that was for sure.
“You sure you're okay?” Chan asks, grabbing your arm as the three of you walk out of the bar.
“I'm completely fine.” You smile. “You guys go, I know you said you had some stuff to do.” You say, waving them off. You went home, seeing Seojoon there already, fast asleep, again. Could he not keep his lies straight? He wasn't even supposed to be home and frankly you didn't want to sleep next to a cheater, so that night you got changed and went to sleep on the couch, which only lasted a few hours before a continuous knocking on your front door woke you up.
“Y/N..” you hear from outside the door. “Fuck. Y/N!”
You pull the door open, seeing Chan, hunched over, his arm wrapped around his stomach. “What the hell?” You gasp. He stands up as much as he can, looking at you as your eyes trail his body. You can see the blood seeping through his fingers. “What happened?” You whisper, pulling him inside. You pull him to the bathroom, checking on Seojoon before you quietly close the door.
“Felix and I had some stuff to handle, the guy fucking stabbed me.” He grunts. You dig through your drawers, finding your first aid kit. You always had at least some medical supplies on hand, just in case. This wasn't the first time you needed to sew someone's wound.
“Where's Felix?” You ask.
“He got out of there, they got me as I was trying to take off. I remembered you lived around here. I'm sorry.” He says.
“I'm glad you came.” You smile. You help Chan to sit on the counter before you get your needle and thread out. “I'm just gonna..” you pause, your fingers lifting the hem of his shirt. Chan leans back as much as he can, you lift his shirt, revealing an extremely nice set of abs.
“Wow.” You whisper, closing your mouth to stop you from drooling. You can see Chan smirking from the corner of your eye as you grab disinfectant spray. “This is probably gonna sting.” You warn.
“Just do it.” He says through gritted teeth. You spray his wound, Chan opens his mouth to yell but nothing comes out. The silent yelling as he squeezes his eyes shut. Once you're done, you start getting your other things ready, warning him that this is also gonna hurt.
“Believe me, not my first time getting stitched with no numbing.” He chuckles.
“Luckily for you, not my first time stitching without numbing.” You grin. You start sewing him up, and his eyes never leave you. He watches you with such intent, how you concentrate on your work. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he watched you.
“Oh fuck.” He hisses, one spot a little more tender than the others.
You can hear Seojoon stir in the other room. You stop, waiting, listening.
“Y/N?” You hear a groggy Seojoon call out. You quickly stand up, dropping the needle as you press yourself against Chan, covering his mouth with your hand.
“I'm just in the bathroom.” You yell out.
“Ah, okay.” He yawns. “You okay? I thought I heard another voice?”
“That was my phone.” You say back. Chan's stare burns into your face as you wait to listen for Seojoon to shuffle back to bed. Your body pressed against his, felt so good, he completely forgot about his stab wound. Once you're confident that Seojoon has gone back to bed, you move your hand from Chan's mouth, taking a deep breath.
“I'm sorry.. I just..” you start as you back away. Chan grabs your wrist, pulling you back towards him. “What are you doing?” You whisper.
“Do you have any idea how bad I fucking want you?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. Your breath hitches.
His phone rings, he lets go of your wrist, answering it quickly. “Felix? Yeah, okay. I'm on my way.”
“Sorry princess, I gotta go.” He says, grunting as he gets off the counter.
“I'm not done.” You whisper. The world is spinning. He made your fucking head spin.
“It's good enough. Thank you.” He whispers, pling his shirt down. You put your supplies away, open the door and immediately hear Seojoon snoring. You usher Chan out the door, opening the front for him. “Is Felix okay?” You ask as he turns to go.
“Don't worry about him, or me. We're both gonna be just fine.” He winks, walking down the hallway and out of view.
In the morning, you wake up on the couch to Seojoon sitting in the chair next to you.
“Morning.” He smiles.
“Don't.” You sigh, getting up.
“What did I do?” He chuckles.
“Are you cheating on me?” You ask. He looks stunned, shocked and panicked.
“W-what? Me? No?”
“Something is going on, either you tell me now or I'm fucking done.” you spit.
“Babe..” He chuckles. “You're being delusional.”
“Get out.” You yell. “I'm done. This is done.” You say.
“Y/N.” He pleads. “You know how I feel about you.”
“Do I? You've never told me. Go ahead.” You say, crossing your arms, waiting for what he was going to say.
“I.. you know. I lo..” he mumbles. “We've been together for so long. You know how I feel.”
“No. I don't. I honestly don't think you've ever told me that you've loved me. I've told you plenty. I've always been clear to you about my feelings, but you can't even give me the decency of saying it once to save the relationship.” You scoff. “I'm done. Get out. We're over. “ You spit. “You have an hour to pack your shit.”
You go to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind you. You run a bath, sit and scroll through your phone for an hour. You really fucking hoped he would be gone by the time you got out. And thankfully, he was. Your place was quiet, and you felt like you could breathe. But you also felt hurt. Why didn't he fight harder for you? Why did he give up so easily? Weren't you worth more?
You pulled out your phone, calling the two people who had become the closest people to you in your life.
“I did it.” You breathe. “I'm single.” You laugh.
“That's cause for celebration!” Felix exclaims.
“Get ready. We'll be there at 10 to pick you up.” Chan laughs. You were thankful for them, and how in the short time you'd known them they were always there for you. Little did you know, sooner rather than later, you'd need them even more.
110 notes · View notes
kyletogaz · 2 days
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the fall: part two cw: angst, hurt/no comfort, death mention, flashback part one
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you miss kyle. 
you know he shouldn't be on your radar, but it's been almost two months since you've last seen him. sometimes you wonder how he's doing, and if he's safe. cutting off all contact with kyle was the best thing for you and your sanity, but it was also one of the hardest decisions you've ever had to make.
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the next time kyle shows up on your doorstep, it takes you by surprise. you were certain that he would stay away after the verbal lashing you gave him.
your eyes are wide and your voice is tinged with shock when you question him about being at your door. “i thought i told you to-"
"go to hell? yeah, i heard you loud and clear, darling.” kyle will never tell you, but he loves it when you put him in his place. “i just wanted to talk, if you’ll let me.”
you refuse to look him in the eye as you step aside to let him in. you know for a fact that he won’t leave you be, so you’ll just have suck it up and get through this visit with your sanity intact. when kyle is finally inside, you close the door and lock it, then follow him to the living room. he makes himself comfortable on your couch and you have to resist the urge to make him leave. you were already starting to regret letting him in.
pretty brown eyes look at you expectantly, and you know he wants you to take the seat next to him. you don’t. and perhaps it was done out of spite, but you chose another seat instead. kyle frowns at the distance between you two, but he doesn't comment on it. he eyes you for a moment, before he lets out a shaky sigh and opens his mouth to speak.
you beat him to it.
“you left me.” it breaks his heart to hear how small your voice sounds, and how you stare off to the side with an unhappy look on your pretty face. “and the worst thing about all of this, is how i went back on my word because i’m too fucking blinded by love and a pretty face.”
you meet kyle’s gaze head on when he apologizes, as if it would mend your poor fractured heart. “you can’t be too remorseful, if leaving was your first choice. do you have any idea how it made me feel?” you ask, your voice full of fury. “it made me feel like i meant nothing to you, like i was nothing more than a one night stand. is that what you think of me? that i’ll always be good enough for you to fuck, but not good enough for you to love?” you watch him wince at the venom in your tone.
he shakes his head in denial and tells you that he does love you, but all you can do is stare at him in disbelief, as your eyes glisten with tears. "i’m not even sure if i believe you, kyle,” you manage to choke out while you try to regain control over your emotions.
kyle watches you with a heavy heart. he did this, never expecting for you to fall in love with him. but when he realized the exact moment your feelings for him started to change, he never mentioned it to you. it was inconsiderate of him to let it happen when this wasn’t what either of you agreed to. he should have ended it when he first got the chance, but deep down, he wanted you to love him.
“did you know i was in love with you?” the question had been gnawing at your brain for the last couple of days.
you finally get the chance to ask kyle, and he doesn’t bother responding. how can he, when the answer is written all over his face. it shocks you to your core. he’s sitting across from you with tense shoulders and a jaw that’s clenched so tight, you think it might shatter. he won’t even look you in the eye. you’ve been struggling with your feelings for weeks and he knew. it hurt to know that he’s carried your secret around with him for god knows how long, and not once did he ever acknowledge it.
you don’t even bother kicking kyle out. he watches you storm away from him and into your bedroom, the sound of your door slamming traveling to his ears. he runs a hand down his face, before swearing loudly. he knows he fucked up and he’s not even sure if he can fix it. with a sigh, kyle strides down the hallway to your bedroom. he doesn’t knock. he sits on the floor with his back resting against the wall across from your door as he listens to your sobs. he wants so badly to open the door and go to you, but he knows his presence will only make things worse.
kyle’s not sure how long he sits there on your floor with his head in his hands, before you emerge from your room. he straightens up when he hears your door creak open, his face falling when he notices your red eyes and the pained expression on your face. “you’re still here,” you comment softly as you stand in the doorway.
kyle leans against the wall with a sigh. “wouldn’t have been right for me to leave you.”
like you did before, you think to yourself bitterly. you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. you were already hurting enough as it is. it makes no sense to pour more salt into the wound.
kyle watches you shift from foot to foot, before you sink down to the floor across from him. the look on his face is unreadable and it makes you nervous. you want to know what he’s thinking and how he’s feeling. you want to know if what he said was true.
“what you said before—” you bit your lip nervously. you’re not exactly sure if you want an answer to the question you’re about to ask. you pause for a moment to gather up the courage to just spit it out. “you said you loved me. is that true, or were you just telling me what i wanted to hear?”
kyle has to look away from your imploring eyes when he tells you that he meant what he said. you expect to feel some kind of warmth from his words. It should make you happy that kyle loves you, but it doesn't. your feel your lips tremble, as you suck in a breath to keep your tears at bay. when kyle meets your gaze again, his eyes are wet with tears, and the look on his face is just as bad as the one on yours.
"i don't understand," you whine as you brush your tears away. "why didn't you say anything, kyle?"
"because i'm selfish. i wanted your love even though i never planned to let you have mine. and i hope you'll forgive me for everything i'm about to say." he pauses to take a deep breath. he's not sure how this conversation will end, but he has to get it out, for his sake and yours. "i could have told you months ago that i was in love with you but i decided not to. and as much as it pains me to say this, i thought it would be easier for you to love someone else. i’m a soldier, sweetheart.” he’s got too many enemies lurking and too much blood on his hands. “you deserve someone who won't leave for deployment and come back to you in a casket. i won’t ruin you like that, lovie. i should have broken things off with you as soon as it became too much for me. that was always the plan."
“so you’ve decided for the both of us, then.” you hate the way your voices cracks as you say it. you haven’t fully processed kyle’s answer. it wasn’t something you thought you would ever hear from his mouth.
“i’m sorry.”
the cord keeping you tethered to kyle snaps violently when you tell him it’s over and that you’re done.
it’s for the best, you think over and over again as you watch kyle walk out of your door, and out of your life. this isn’t what you want, but since kyle’s determined to keep you at arm’s length, he’s not giving you much of a choice.
when you no longer see the taillights on his truck, you brace yourself for the flood of tears you’re sure will come. and when they do, you don’t fight them.
damn you, kyle.
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the shrill sound of your phone ringing snaps you out of a daze, the high volume making you flinch a little. when you look down to see who’s calling, you see kyle's name. you don’t even hesitate to answer.
“hello?”
"good evenin’, doll. i'm sorry to be callin' you so late." it's simon. what the hell was he doing with kyle’s phone, and why was he calling you and not kyle himself?
"simon?" you must sound confused because he apologizes again. "it's fine. something must be wrong if you're calling from kyle's phone." when the silence lasts a little too long for your liking, you snap out a firm, “simon, please."
“it’s kyle, he’s hurt.”
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a/n: thank you to small>@starsofang for the inspiration. ily 💕
don’t jump me, i’m working on part three right now so y’all can get a happy ending.
part three sneak peek
masterlist
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muddy-water-1997 · 1 day
Text
𝖠𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖡𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖿𝗂𝗍𝗌
𝖳𝖶: 𝖲𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖯𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾!𝖲𝖾𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗆𝗂𝗇, 𝖠𝗇𝗀𝗋𝗒!𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗇, 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗍𝖻𝗁
Chapter 22 - A Rose Between Two Thorns
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You didn’t know why Seungmin was there instead of Chris, but you took the roses from him with a questioning smile. It was hard to see him as anything other than a harmless friend, but the look in his eyes was off-putting; this seemed like a game to him. It was only last night that you were called a "quick fuck," and he stormed out of your apartment, taking half of the boys with him.
“You wanted to see me… without him?” you questioned, moving toward the kitchen and placing the roses in the sink water. You might be cautious of Seungmin's intentions, but you couldn’t deny that the roses were beautiful.
“Yeah…” He followed behind you into the kitchen before continuing. “I need to apologize for last night; what I said was completely out of anger.” He explained as he leaned against the kitchen counter, the same counter Chris was kissing you on this morning. The memories kept flooding back. Where was he? He was supposed to be back by now.
“Out of anger?” you echoed, trying to keep your tone neutral, but the scepticism was evident.
Seungmin nodded, his expression earnest, but his eyes still holding that unsettling glint. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was just... frustrated and I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair.”
You glanced at the roses, their vibrant petals contrasting with the confusion and unease swirling inside you. “Why now, Seungmin? Why apologize now, and why without Chris?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because I need you to understand that what I said last night was a mistake. And... because I wanted to clear the air without him interfering.”
Interfering? The word hung heavily in the air, and you couldn’t help but feel a chill. “Interfering how?”
Seungmin took a step closer, his eyes locking onto yours. “I don’t think he’s the right person for you, Y/N. He doesn’t appreciate you the way you deserve.”
You took a step back, the proximity making your heart race with anxiety rather than affection. “Chris appreciates me more than you think,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “And he was supposed to be back by now. Do you know where he is?”
Seungmin’s gaze darkened for a fraction of a second before he plastered on a smile. “I’m sure he’s just running late. But think about what I said, okay? You deserve someone who truly values you.”
“I told you,” you began, trying to take a step back. Seungmin mirrored your movement, closing the distance until your back pressed into the fridge. You were trapped.
“But does he worship your body like the rest of us do?” His voice dropped to a low, menacing whisper as he pressed a hand above your head, his eyes boring into yours. “Does he fuck you as good as the rest of us do?” He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. “I bet he didn’t even touch you last night.”
There was a twisted pleasure in his words, a sick satisfaction that made your skin crawl. His smile was a predator’s grin, relishing the fear and discomfort he was causing.
“Seungmin…” you tried to muster the strength to speak up, but your voice wavered, barely more than a whisper. You had never seen him like this, so consumed by a dark, insatiable need to dominate, to prove a point. It felt like you were nothing more than a prize to be won.
His hand moved from the fridge to your shoulder, holding you in place possessively. “You don’t need him, Y/N. You need someone who knows how to truly appreciate you. Someone who can give you what you really want.”
Fear surged through you, but you refused to let him see you break. “Chris cares about me,” you said, your voice gaining strength. “And I care about him. Nothing you say will change that.”
“We all care about you, Y/N. How come he gets to have all the fun? Stealing my limelight again. I only just got a taste, and I’m having to walk away already.” He growled into your ear, his eyes flickering down to the necklace around your neck that they had all bought you before the emergency evacuation. He took the charm between his fingers, a scoff coming from his mouth. 
Before he could continue, the door swung open with a loud bang, startling both of you. Chris stood in the doorway, his eyes blazing with anger as he took in the scene before him. “Get away from her, Seungmin,” he demanded, his voice a low growl.
Seungmin straightened up, a sneer on his lips. “Just having a conversation, Chris.”
“Now,” Chris repeated, stepping forward, his fists clenched at his sides.
Seungmin backed off, and your hand flew to your chest in a feeble attempt to catch your breath, feeling as if it was slipping away. Were you scared? Was that supposed to turn you on? What was that?
“Y/N, are you okay?” Chris asked as he rushed to you from the doorway, quickly stepping between you and Seungmin. It was a good question. Were you okay?
“Yeah,” you mumbled quietly, your hand moving to the necklace, checking for damage. “I’m okay.”
“What the hell is this?” Chris demanded, his anger not subsiding as he glared at Seungmin.
Seungmin shrugged, a smug smile still lingering on his lips. “Just a misunderstanding, right, Y/N?”
Chris turned back to you, his eyes filled with concern and fury. “Did he hurt you?”
You shook your head, though your heart was still racing. “No, he didn’t hurt me. It was just... weird. He was saying things, trying to... I don’t know.”
Chris’s jaw tightened, and he stepped closer to Seungmin, his body radiating protective energy. “You stay away from her. Do you understand?”
Seungmin’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a flash of defiance. “I’m just looking out for her, Chris. Maybe you should be too.”
“Get out,” Chris growled, pointing toward the door. “Now.”
“What?” Seungmin retorted, his tone sharp. “You wanted us to do better by her. Those were your words. Or does that not include making her feel good? Because you were fine with that detail up until last night.”
“Things change,” Chris snapped back, his patience wearing thin.
“Whenever you want them to, sure,” Seungmin challenged, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Enough!” You stepped in, unable to stand being caught in the middle of their argument. “I should just pack a bag and go back home.” You sighed, heading toward the bedroom. You should have done this last night; it would have saved all this drama.
“No!” They both said in unison, moving to stop you in your tracks before glaring at each other.
“I’m a person!” you yelled, the anger and fear suddenly pouring out at once. “I’m not a prize you can just win at an arcade. Jesus fucking Christ.” You buried your face in your hands, trying to take a breath. “Have I not been through enough these past few days? Truly. I’m in a foreign country, away from my family and my friends, and you’re here acting like a pair of children.”
You couldn’t tell if you were mad or hungry, remembering your takeaway plans with Chris that had quickly become a passing thought. The overwhelming mix of emotions bubbled up, making it hard to think clearly.
Chris took a step toward you, his voice softer now, filled with regret. “Y/N, I’m sorry. This isn’t what I wanted. I don’t want you to feel like this.” You let him get close, his body enveloping you warmly. The tears that stung at your eyes were threatening to fall. You felt so safe with him, like the world couldn’t touch you. But with Seungmin, the way he cornered you, he was so close to you. You couldn’t deny that the possessiveness turned on a part of you.
“It’s time for you to leave,” Chris spoke to Seungmin with a firm but quieter tone, keeping your body close to his chest. Seungmin didn’t argue this time, but Chris noted that the smile on his face hadn’t faded. It was almost like he knew how to push your buttons without you being wiser about it. He walked out of the apartment, not saying another word.
“Are you okay, beautiful?” Chris asked as he heard the door shut, kissing you gently on your forehead. You nodded softly against his chest, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering unease.
“I’m okay,” you whispered, though your voice was still shaky. “Just... a lot to process.”
Chris held you tighter, his hand gently stroking your hair. “I’m so sorry for all of this. I should have been here. I should have protected you better.”
You pulled back slightly, looking up into his eyes. “It’s not your fault, Chris. Seungmin... he just caught me off guard. I didn’t expect him to act like that.”
“I know,” Chris replied, his eyes filled with sorrow and determination. “But I promise, I won’t let him or anyone else make you feel like this again.” You had to process truly what just happened before you agreed to a statement like that. The possessiveness that Seungmin showed… that needed decoding in your brain first.
“Can we order something to eat?” You asked, pulling away from his chest slightly. He laughed softly in response.
“Of course we can, baby. Whatever you want- it’s yours.”
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𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾? 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾! 𝖬𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌! 
𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖣𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗋 𝖣𝖬!
𝖳𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌
@fr34k4c1dr41n @rylea08 @stellasays45 @darthmaddie25 @whatsk-poppinhomies @minnieprincess85 @purp13st4r @livixcore @hyun-hwanj @0325tiny @privhace @goldilovesharry @jisunglyricist @gloriajovicc @mimililylupinblack @laney1488 @missbangtangirl
Orange means I couldn’t tag you!
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bungalowbear · 2 days
Text
a little something with togame 🧡
When you step out of the pub after your shift there’s still light outside. The sun is barely dipping below the tops of the stacked buildings, a small consolation from having to work earlier.
You double check to make sure you have all your belongings before starting down the sidewalk. The street is just beginning to liven up for the night. The glow of overhead neon signs flicker to life as people trickle into their nightly caverns.
Craning your neck up to the sky, you admire how pink and orange blend together to cast a warm glow over the town. You’re always coming out of work when the sun is long gone that when you see the stirrings of a sunset you feel a smidge less nocturnal.
A door suddenly flies open. It startles you out of your sky gazing and you take a large step to your left and off the sidewalk to avoid getting smacked square in the face.
Orange fills your vision once more. This time a more vibrant shade as a group of familiar faces come piling out of the pub, each wearing the signature jackets of Shishitoren. The first one to recognize you is their leader. His round eyes light up when he says your name.
“Hello, Choji,” you greet him with a smile.
“Did you just get out of work?” he asks. He doesn’t give you the chance to answer though before firing off again. “Of course you did. We all knew that already. Kame-chan told me and insisted we come—”
“Choji.”
All eyes turn to the last one to step through the door. The second in command of their organization.
Togame steps forward and bodies part to make a path to where you and Choji stand. The taller male wears an easy smile as he shuffles over. His gaze lands on you through the tinted glasses perched on his nose and he greets you, the syllables of your name rolling gently off his tongue. Then he sighs, looking down at his friend.
“I asked you not to bring that up,” he says.
“Oh, that’s right.” Choji’s expression turns sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry, Kame-chan.”
Togame’s eyes glance toward you to gauge your reaction. He’s surprised to find you giggling into your hand.
“If you wanted to see me so badly,” you say between short breaths, “all you had to do was ask.”
Togame’s cheeks flush pink at your words. The cooing from the group behind him doesn’t help, in fact it makes pink turn to red as he averts his eyes once more.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Choji announces. He turns to herd the rowdy group away. “We’re going on ahead. We’ll see you at the Ori, Kame-chan.”
Choji sings your name in a boisterous farewell. The others wave goodbye as they tread further away. You smile at the group, waving until they disappear around the corner.
You turn to Togame. His face is turned down, the red on his cheeks calmed down back to pink.
“So you wanted to see me?”
Slowly, he raises his head. His smile is warm and his eyes soft when he answers, “I always want to see you.”
He holds out his arm and you step forward to loop your hand around his elbow. You walk down the street and in the direction of your home as the setting sun bathes you and your escort in its golden rays.
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thevioletcaptain · 2 days
Note
😔🧋🤙 for the emoji prompt!
Cas is just leaning in to kiss him, his fingers trailing warm and seductive down the center of Dean’s chest, when there’s a knock on their bedroom door. Three sharp raps in quick succession.
They both freeze, breath caught as they wait, as if silence will convince whoever’s knocking that they aren’t here.
“Dean? Cas?”
No such luck.
“Maybe if we ignore him, he’ll give up and leave,” Dean whispers, but he’s barely finished the sentence when Sam knocks again.
“Uh, guys?” Sam says, voice louder but still muffled through two inches of oak. “You awake in there?”
Cas sighs, slumping back onto his own pillow to give Dean a look that very clearly states; your brother, your problem. Dean sends one back that says, what’s mine is yours, sweetheart, but Cas only glowers in response.
“Guys?” Sam repeats, knocking a third time, and Dean groans as he pushes out of bed.
With one last longing glance at Cas, naked and sleepy and looking decidedly put out about the fact that his plans to continue what they’d started last night had been interrupted before they could even begin, Dean slips into his robe before cracking the door.
“What?”
Sam meets his gaze with a sheepish grimace.
“Hey, sorry,” he says again, wrinkling his nose. “I was gonna let you guys sleep in, but, well… I don’t wanna freak you out or anything, and it might not even be—”
Sam pushes out a breath. Hesitates.
“Dude, just spit it out. It’s early.”
“It’s eleven.”
“Sam—”
“I think there’s something wrong with Jack.”
That gets his attention fast, and Dean pulls the door wide as Cas launches out of bed. Sam averts his eyes when he notices Cas’ distinct lack of pants.
“Uh—”
“Is he sick?”
“What happened?” Cas asks, immediately breathless with worry. “Where is he? Is he hurt?”
“He’s fine, he’s safe, he’s taking Miracle for a walk. But— Cas, can you put some clothes on?”
Dean grabs Cas’ fuzzy cloud-print bathrobe from the back of the door and tosses it over to him before he can start arguing with Sam about the fact that his lack of pants has no bearing on Sam’s ability to explain himself.
“So if he’s fine and safe and walking the dog—what exactly is the problem?” Dean asks.
With an uncertain shrug, Sam nods toward the kitchen, and they follow him down the hall as he explains.
“Okay, so this morning I had to go to up to Hastings for a few things, and I asked if he wanted to come with — he normally does, y’know, because he likes the toffee boba from that place opposite the store where I get my protein powder.”
“Uhuh,” Dean says.
“So, I dropped him off to get his drink, and I went to the health food store, and when I came back to meet him he was just, like. Sitting in the middle of the sidewalk.”
“Sitting, and… doing what?” Cas asks.
“That’s the thing,” Sam says, stepping down into the kitchen. He looks back at them as he pulls out one of the swivel chairs at the table and sits down. Dean and Cas mirror him on the other side. “He was just sitting there, staring at a crack in the pavement with a dandelion growing in it.”
“So…” Dean says, waving a hand for Sam to elaborate.
“I think he’s depressed.”
“Depressed,” Cas repeats with a frown.
“You think he’s depressed because he was sitting on the sidewalk and looking at a flower?” Dean asks, narrowing his eyes. “The kid’s just weird, Sam. He’s always been weird. He gets it from his entire family.”
“That’s not— look, I asked him why he was sitting there instead of on the bench five feet away, and you know what he said to me? He said, what difference does it make? Everything is meaningless.”
“Okay, well that… that does sound kinda concerning,” Dean admits.
“Did he say anything else?”
“No, not really. But when we got back to the car he stuck the dandelion under the windshield wipers to ‘see how long it would hold on’, and… honestly, saying that out loud sounds stupid, but… I don’t know. It worried me.”
As he’s speaking, the distant whine of the main door opening echoes through the bunker, followed by scrambling claws as Miracle launches into his usual post-walk zoomies, and the heavy clang of the door slamming shut.
Miracle bursts into the kitchen a few seconds later, frantically sniffing at all of them — Cas carefully repositions himself to avoid getting a dog snout all up in his business — before sprinting back out, and Jack follows shortly after, slurping away at his boba.
Inexplicably, he’s wearing his Ghostbusters jumpsuit from last Halloween, a pair of teal flip flops, and has Cas’ floppy gardening hat hanging around his neck. Dean looks at him and then back at Sam, wondering how neglected to mention this absolute mess of an outfit as he recounted the reasons for his alarm.
“Hello,” Jack says with a wave, and walks over to the fridge.
Dean, Cas, and Sam all look at one another before Cas clears his throat.
“How are you today, Jack?”
Rifling through the vegetable drawer, Jack lets out a thoughtful hum before extracting a single tomatillo. He sniffs it before biting into it like an apple.
“Snacky. And… contemplative. Have you ever noticed how Miracle just eats whatever he finds no matter what time of day it is? That makes more sense than designated breakfast food, I think.”
“Right,” Dean says carefully, watching as Jack takes another sip from his toffee-flavored milk tea as though he doesn’t still have a mouthful of tomatillo. He’s unsurprised when the flavor combination — and presumably the added texture of a tapioca pearl — makes Jack gag a little, but it’s still gross when he spits it into the sink.
At least he takes the moment to turn on the tap and rinse it down.
“So, uh. What’s the deal with Halloween in July?”
Jack tilts his head for a moment, as though uncertain what Dean is asking, before he seems to remember what he’s wearing. He looks down. Jiggles the buckle of his utility belt.
“Oh, it’s because I realized nothing matters,” Jack says cheerfully, and takes a long, noisy slurp through his straw before wriggling it around the bottom of his cup, where the last tapioca pearl is stubbornly clinging to the plastic. It finally dislodges, and he crushes the cup in his hand, tossing it in the recycling.
“What do you mean nothing matters?”
“There’s no point to anything. It’s all meaningless, so, you know, if something is kind or fun or interesting and it doesn’t hurt anyone…” Jack shrugs. “Hakuna Matata.”
Without waiting for a response, Jack crams the rest of the tomatillo into his mouth and heads for the door.
“Anyway, I’m gonna go up on the roof and read erotica on my phone,” he says, and waves, and then he’s gone before any of them can process that — let alone react to it.
“See what I mean?” Sam says.
“Yeah, uh. He’s definitely being weird, even for Jack, but… I don’t think he’s depressed.”
“So what is it? Teen angst?”
“He’s not a teenager,” Dean points out. “And he’s not exactly angsty.”
“He’s right, Sam. I’m not certain this is even a problem.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Well, I do think one of us should actually take the time to have a frank discussion with him about sex if he’s going to be reading erotica, but other than that, it seems as though he’s just thinking philosophically. Contemplating the nature of his existence in a newly Godless universe.”
“Yeah, and I mean, as far as philosophies go? Nothing matters so just chill out about it seems… refreshingly optimistic. I say we call it a win.”
[written for this prompt game] [find me on ao3 as imogenbynight 💚]
ps: here's a bonus meme to illustrate why my brain went immediately to "optimistic nihilism" after seeing these particular emojis 😅
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redux-iterum · 7 hours
Text
Charred Legacy: Chapter Ten
(AO3 counterpart here.)
Fireheart was left to ponder that vision for the rest of the night. Even more confusing, he didn’t see Yellowfang or Cinderpaw go to Bluestar with this news. He caught sight of Yellowfang speaking to Speckletail, at least, but he had to be content with that by the time he went to sleep. Maybe Bluestar would be talked with tomorrow.
But Yellowfang didn’t talk to Bluestar. In fact, no one did. She didn’t leave her den. Fireheart and Whitecloud were the only ones to see her for a couple days; any time they checked in, she was curled up and asleep, often with half-eaten remains of the prey they left for her lying near the entrance of her den.
“Do you think she’s sick?” Fireheart asked Whitecloud one night.
Whitecloud’s answer was delayed and quiet. “I can only hope that’s the case.”
Speckletail, at least, was pulling her weight admirably. She only had to be told once that Bluestar was feeling unwell for her to double her efforts, recruiting Whitecloud to help her schedule patrols and decide on where the night’s hunters would be sent to level the prey supply. Fireheart did his best to show his appreciation with thanks and not bothering her with questions about Bluestar.
Not to say that Bluestar didn’t come up. A couple nights after Fireheart’s question, he went for breakfast to find Speckletail tiredly pawing around the pile, her ears poorly resisting folding back and her tail twitching. Her cream-and-brown coat had lost a bit of its usual shine, dull with exhaustion.
“Good evening!” Fireheart said brightly, coming up to the side of the pile across from her. He tilted his head, concerned. “You look like you didn’t sleep. Are you alright?”
“Evening.” Speckletail gave him a weary blink. “I slept, don’t worry. It’s just been a busy few nights.” She barely managed a huff of what failed to sound like amusement. “Seems like I’ve got to do everything myself lately. I haven’t gotten Bluestar to come inside and do her job.”
“Oh…” Fireheart nodded, valiantly hiding the immediate spike of worry in his chest. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Do you want me to talk to her for you?”
Another attempt at a chuff, slightly more energetic than the last, and she shook her head. “You don’t need to worry about that, Fireheart. You’ve been taking care of Bluestar like she was Yellowfang. Don’t think I didn’t notice—bringing her prey and making sure she’s alright.” Speckletail gave him a warm look. “I appreciate you trying to help, but it’s not your concern.”
Fireheart almost squinted at her in bafflement. “She’s the leader of ThunderClan and my mentor, and suffering with something she won’t talk about. I would darn well think it’s my concern.”
The deputy’s whiskers twitched. “Right. I forgot I was talking to you.” She sighed, her eyes turning in the direction of Bluestar’s den. “Well, I won’t order you to, but if you think you can get a word out of her, or even get her out of her nest, you have no complaints from me.” She looked back at him. “But perhaps eat first.”
Fireheart obeyed with a head-bob and quickly took a mouse while Speckletail continued to look through the pile. He ate with no ceremony or thought, shook out his fur and trotted out of camp with a tail-flick to Speckletail, who had finally found a squirrel she wanted.
Fireheart took a breath as he approached Bluestar’s den. It was deathly silent out here, a particular void of sound seeming to coalesce specifically behind the lichen curtain. A moment of hesitation, and then Fireheart quietly pushed past the lichen and stepped into Bluestar’s den.
As before, he only saw his mentor’s back, the fur of which was more ruffled and stiffer than usual. She was tightly curled up, breathing so slowly and softly that Fireheart had to watch her side rise and fall to be sure she was still alive. The prey she’d tossed aside, at least, was mostly eaten, but it had gone stale and was starting to stink a little. A few little prey-bones were scattered around where Fireheart or Whitecloud had missed them in scooting the remaining meat outside.
Carefully, Fireheart cleared his throat and spoke quietly. “Bluestar?”
Her head did not jolt up as it usually did; instead, she lifted it with groggy surprise, looking around blearily and slowly twisting from lying on her side to on her stomach. In a voice creaky with disuse, she said, “Who’s there?”
“It’s me,” Fireheart said, stepping sideways to get into her view. “I didn’t meant to interrupt your sleep, but I wanted to check on you.”
Bluestar did not meet his eye, or even really look at him beyond a glance as she turned her head this way and that. Fireheart could swear he heard her whisper, “Where…?” before she shook her head like she was clearing away flies and finally looked at her apprentice, though their eyes still didn’t connect.
“Er…” Fireheart cleared his throat again and took a step closer. “Well, I was thinking—you’ve been in here for a few nights now, and the Clan’s a little worried, so I thought maybe you could come in and order a patrol. And, um, get some food, too.” He nudged the mostly-eaten prey with his paw. “This is a little old to finish now.”
“Oh—” Bluestar blinked like she’d been hit in the head and slowly got to her feet. “Yes. Right. Patrols.”
Before Fireheart could say anything else, she walked past him, her tail sticking straight out. Fireheart caught sight of a few bits of dry moss clinging to it.
He hurried out after her, trying to match her pace to stand at her side, having some foggy notion that she was about to fall over and he needed to catch her. She didn’t, obviously, but he was still reluctant to let her walk in front of him as they went through the entrance to camp.
Her arrival was welcomed with many heads turning her way and sparks of conversation and greeting. Fireheart caught up to her, some small part of him relieved at the warm reception for reasons he couldn’t name, and turned to speak to her.
Then he stopped. Watched her eyes roam over camp, mouth ever-so-slightly opening and closing, posture stiff. She was staring at everyone like they were strangers.
Why does she look so confused?
Before he could follow that line of thought, Bluestar vigorously shook her head again and her eyes cleared. She straightened up and, with steps that had a bit of forced regality, made her way over to Speckletail, who had stood up from her meal to greet her leader.
Bluestar got to the point. “Have you sent out a patrol for Sunningrocks’ border?”
“Not tonight,” Speckletail said. “I was busy with the hunting patrols. Should I—”
“No, no.” Bluestar waved her moss-spotted tail. “I can do it. You’ve been working much more than you should have to.” She looked around again, inspecting her Clan distantly, then looked to her apprentice. “Fireheart, will you take…” Again, a scan of the clearing. “Lizardtail and Willowpelt, and their apprentices, to Sunningrocks?”
“Sure!” Fireheart nodded, eager to help. “Should we have someone else come with us, since we have apprentices?”
“It… should be fine.” Bluestar’s eyes fogged for an instant before she blinked the fog away. “Swiftpaw is nearly a warrior. He can count as an adult for this patrol.”
Swiftpaw, sitting by his mentor, brightened up, looking at Lizardtail excitedly. Lizardtail purred and flicked him with his tail.
Willowpelt nudged Brackenpaw and stood up, the golden-brown apprentice jumping up after her. The pair of pairs trotted up to Fireheart, who turned and nodded to Bluestar.
“Get something to eat, too,” he said to her in a low voice. “And please eat all of it.”
At this, Bluestar’s gaze swung over to the prey-pile, and without responding she walked past him and to the scattered animals. Barely holding in a sigh of relief, Fireheart gestured with his tail and led the warriors and apprentices back out of camp.
All in all, it was a rather peaceful walk. Swiftpaw and Brackenpaw hung at the back of the patrol, Swiftpaw telling a story about his first encounter with a deer and Brackenpaw hanging on every word, staring with big-eyed awe at the older apprentice. Fireheart half-listened in, but mostly enjoyed the breeze wafting towards the patrol and winding around them. With the lack of foliage to block it, scents from much further off in the territory greeted him. He was so caught up in trying to identify which particular plant he was smelling, however, that he didn’t notice Willowpelt picking up her pace to catch up to him until she whispered in his ear.
“Is Bluestar okay?” she asked.
Fireheart flinched in surprise and looked at her. “Huh?”
“Bluestar.” Willowpelt glanced back at Lizardtail, who was walking a little faster after them with his ears perked. “She was… well, she felt off. You’re the one who’s seen her the most, so you’d know what’s up, right?”
“Oh,” Fireheart said, scrambling for a satisfying answer. “I have a feeling she’s ill with something. She’s just been sleeping these past few nights. She ought to get better soon.”
Willowpelt nodded, though she didn’t look entirely convinced. Lizardtail, now very close behind, shared an expression of scrutiny with her.
“Just give her time,” Fireheart whispered to them both. “She’ll be okay.”
The faces were much more doubtful, though Fireheart didn’t miss that glint of hope in their eyes. They said nothing more, just walked along their way, the unaware apprentices still talking.
Sunningrocks came up quickly, announced far in advance by the rush of water. Fireheart let himself feel that stab of grief as the thought of Silverstream came back to his mind, and it dutifully drifted away once he found something else to think on. His nose twitched at the faintest smell of fish that grew stronger as they closed in on the stretch of flatland. RiverClanners were near, it seemed.
Good thing Greystripe isn’t with us, he thought. They’d all try to kill him.
Why just him? a mean little bite of an idea snipped. They’re the ones that let Silverstream die. All Greystripe did was love her. He didn’t scare her enough to make her starve herself.
Fireheart unconsciously clenched his teeth on that snip. Don’t. It’s done.
Even with that firm rebuke, he could feel the thought tapping around in the back of his mind, muttering anger. He tried to breathe it out, didn’t succeed, and chose to file it away to consider later.
“You smell that?” he asked brightly of the other warriors. “There must be some RiverClan cats by the water.”
Lizardtail sniffed. “Then we’ll have to remind them where the border is.”
“RiverClan?” Brackenpaw’s voice popped out of the quiet of the forest. “Do I get to see them now?”
“You should, yeah,” Swiftpaw said. “You’ll think they’re funny. Big heads and short tails.”
Brackenpaw’s eyes sparkled. “I bet I’m taller than all of them already.”
Swiftpaw chortled. “You’re at least a better fighter than them.”
“Really?” Brackenpaw tilted his head. “I thought when you guys fought them, you lost.”
“That was a fluke,” Lizardtail said quickly. “They had the element of surprise and more cats.”
“We really ought to go for Sunningrocks again,” Willowpelt muttered, seemingly to herself. “That land will be useful in winter.”
Fireheart sighed, grateful that his head was now turned forward so they couldn’t see him roll his eyes. He’d been happy about the lack of comments about the stupidest quarrel in the territories for the past couple of months, but now that prey was guaranteed to run thin, he expected it would come up again. Fabulous. Exactly what he wanted on this peaceful walk.
“Don’t you sigh like that,” Willowpelt said, more warm than annoyed. “We’re going to need all the prey we can get.”
“There’s no prey on that land, Willowpelt!” Fireheart looked back at her. “It’s a bunch of dumb rocks no one sits on, who cares who owns it?”
To his relief, Willowpelt just crinkled her eyes and shook her head. Even Lizardtail seemed amused by Fireheart’s frown, rolling his own eyes more jokingly than seriously. Fireheart himself just turned forward again, curling his tail good-humoredly.
That cheery mood lasted about as long as it took for a new scent to hit Fireheart’s nose—one that he was very familiar with by this point, but stronger and more disgusting than usual.
“Anyone smell blood?” he asked, almost afraid of the answer.
Lizardtail picked up his pace to catch up and walk by Fireheart, his nose in the air. His eyes narrowed. “I do. That’s not prey blood, that’s…”
“Cat blood,” Willowpelt finished. Her tail bristled. “Someone’s hurt.”
The apprentices fell quiet, sniffing too. In unison, the patrol broke into a run. Fireheart lost his lead to Swiftpaw and Lizardtail, choosing to hang back a bit to block Brackenpaw’s view from whatever it could be. The scent of blood, and now raw meat, strengthened enough to make the mouse in his stomach curdle.
They all skidded to a halt as they reached Sunninrocks’ border. Fireheart poked his head out of the treeline and stared at the sight before him in horror.
A crowd of RiverClan cats were clustered in a pair of groups, the larger one surrounding a large streak of bloody grass and the smaller by the water, where blood joined with the river and melted into it as it was carried downstream. The cats were blocking most of the view, but tails, legs and a familiar warm brown head could be seen, the head with its jaw nearly disconnected and the eyes faded and empty.
“Is that Oakclaw?” Fireheart said, his voice almost cracking.
At his voice, the broad heads shot up and turned the patrol’s way. Fireheart recognized the pale grey calico Pansyheart, and she in turn seemed to realize who he was and relaxed, though her face lacked any of its usual merriment.
“It’s Fireheart and a patrol,” she said dully to her Clanmates. “I’ll talk to them.”
A few cats nodded and looked back down at their deputy and the smaller cat by the water. Pansyheart walked slowly and lethargically up to the treeline, not even seeming to have the energy to twitch her tail at the intrusion.
“You all wouldn’t happen to have found evidence of any dogs in your forest, would you?” she asked when she was standing across from them.
Willowpelt had the good sense to be professional. “We’ve scented them on our border near the neutral grounds, but we haven’t spotted them ourselves, no.” She tilted her head. “What happened here?”
“Take a sniff,” Pansyheart sighed. “Once you get past the dead cats.”
Obligingly, the patrol all lifted their noses, Fireheart opening his mouth to taste the air. The stink of dog was there, just under the meat and blood.
“That’s awful,” Fireheart said softly. “I’m sorry. Who’s been killed?”
“Our deputy and his apprentice, Burdockpaw.” Pansyheart hung her head. “They were out here to mark the border. We thought… we thought, with our land being flat, we could see the dogs coming from far off. I suppose that wasn’t the case.”
“Or it didn’t matter,” Lizardtail said, and to Fireheart’s surprise (and relief) his tone was solemn and empathetic. “Dogs are faster than we think, usually.”
Willowpelt nodded and asked, “Did you see them at all? Where they could have gone?”
Pansyheart gestured limply with her tail behind her. “Across the river. We can smell them on our side.”
Hesitantly, Swiftpaw came forward. “Is everyone else alive?”
“For now, thank the stars,” Pansyheart said with no enthusiasm. “I assume you all came to mark the border. Feel free to. We’ve got this handled.” Her eyes lowered to the ground. “I suggest you all be careful, in case they swim back this way.”
Before anyone could respond to her, she turned around and dragged her feet back over to her Clanmates. They didn’t greet her as she rejoined them, instead just looking back to the bodies in silence.
Fireheart looked at the rest of the patrol and whispered, “We can put off marking, can’t we? They don’t need that right now. It’d be in poor taste.”
Willowpelt looked at Lizardtail, the two communicating silently. Lizardtail tilted his head in thought, then sighed, saying, “Fine. But if they come over here, I’m tattling on you.”
“They’re not going to,” Fireheart said firmly. “Don’t assume that of them when they’re like this. Let’s get prey and go home.”
Swiftpaw and Brackenpaw were giving him highly surprised looks as he turned away from the clearing and walked deeper into the forest, the older warriors following him and the apprentices quickly coming along.
The entire patrol was silent, but Fireheart was more quiet out of a horrible, nauseating ice in his stomach. He’d have to report this, and of course he would. That was just facts.
But how do you tell your ailing leader in a kind way that her former mate is dead?
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sarahisslytherin · 2 days
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•❣•୨୧ 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 - 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙞𝙞𝙞 ୨୧•❣•
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benedict bridgerton x princess!reader
summary: your father has arranged for you to wed a prince, so you meet benedict for a late night rendezvous to tell him your affair is doomed. however, the night takes a different turn.
contains: angst, a heavy makeout sesh and mentions of sex.
a/n: part three of the series! this one's a tad bit spicy babes!
word count: 1k
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You secure your hood over your intricate curls before stepping out of the carriage. The alleyway is scarcely lit by the lamps lining the street. The heels of your boots clack slightly against the slick cobblestone, a bit of rain still lingering. You haven’t seen Benedict since that night in the garden, and you haven’t been able to bring yourself to write him back. Poem after poem has stacked upon your vanity, and with them have fallen Benedict’s hopes of seeing you again. That was until the last letter you received from him with little more than an address and a plea that you meet him there at the stroke of midnight. So here you are.
You knock on the door, looking over your shoulder to make sure the carriage is gone and that you haven’t been followed. The door is swiftly opened, and you make such haste entering that you don’t get a good look as Benedict until he closes the door behind you. His eyes look tired, bags beneath them and a sad twinkle about them. 
“I wasn’t entirely sure you would come.” he sighs, and the disappointment in his voice breaks your heart. “I’ve brought you to my art studio. I know it’s dangerous bringing you into town but I couldn’t think of anywhere else and I had- I had to see you.”
You remain silent, glancing at your surroundings. There is little light in the salon but it was enough to illuminate Benedict’s half-done sketches and paintings of you. Marble sculptures line the walls as well as scattered books and brushes. The place is full of everything that makes him who he is; the man you cannot and do not wish to stop loving.
“Benedict, it’s not what it seems.” you turn and assure him as you remove your hood. His eyes light up at the sight of you, not unlike the first night his gaze met yours across the crowded ballroom.
“Is it not?” he asks bitterly. “Because it seems that you’ve grown weary of me and my affections. It feels like a knife in my chest, like you’re slipping through my fingers like sand.” 
You shake your head, your brows furrowing as tears begin to gather in your eyes at his words. You cup his face gently in your hands as you speak. “Benedict, you could not be farther from the truth. You have occupied my thoughts from the moment I met you - no - saw you! I am aware that of late I have failed to return your letters and affection, but it is not out of cruelty or dwindling interest. It is my father, he has arranged a meeting with a prince. If it goes well, I am to marry him. That is why I haven’t been able to face you. You must believe me!”
Benedict’s face has fallen slack with shock. His hands come up to take your own. For a moment he doesn’t speak, only presses kisses to your hands, the hands he so desperately wishes to comb through his hair, to hold as you sway to music, to slip a wedding ring on. 
“So you still love me?” he asks with a whimper, and you don’t know how to express your reply other than with a quick nod and a passionate kiss. Suddenly Benedict’s hands are in your hair, then roaming across your back before finally settling on your waist. He carefully pushes you against the wall, caging you with his arms, exposed from his rolled up sleeves.
“I shall take that as a yes.” he smiles between labored breaths. You thought you’d never see that smile again. 
“Take me instead.” you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper.
Benedict freezes, his hold growing tense. “My love, you are royal. I cannot compromise you.”
“I am already being forced to wed someone who I do not love; is this pleasure to be deprived from me as well, Benedict?” You give him a look brimming with love and lust and unbridled passion. Benedict has never been one for taboos or conservatism, and he wastes no time discarding his initial hesitation as he nearly smashes his lips against yours, this time with renewed fervor. 
“I love you.” he grunts as he lifts you and you wrap your legs around his slender torso, his arms winding around you. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”
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Dawn breaks through the window pane, casting your bodies in hues of orange and gold. Your eyes peel open, squinting as you notice Benedict at his canvas. A smile forms on your face as you prop your head up on your elbow, your body and disheveled curls splayed out on the hardwood floor, covered in only a thin sheet. “Adding another piece to your collection?” you inquire teasingly.
Benedict laughs. “I couldn’t waste the opportunity to sketch a nude portrait of the princess herself.” You smirk at him and sit up properly. 
“I must go before my father thinks to call on me,” you sigh as you stand and begin to dress. “There is to be a ball tonight, at the palace.”
“I know.” Benedict says. “My family received invitations.”
“Oh.” you nod. “I see.”
Silence hangs heavily in the atmosphere until you speak again. “The prince will be there. He will most likely ask me to dance. Perhaps you should not go.”
Benedict shakes his head. “I am a grown man, love. I am perfectly capable of watching from the sidelines as the woman I love dances in another’s embrace.”
You tilt your head and cross your arms at him accusingly. He lets out a bitter laugh and comes up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and watching the view out the window from over your shoulder. He presses a chaste kiss to your neck. “Does your heart belong to me, Princess?”
You nod, letting your head fall against his as you do. “It does.”
“Well then,” he smiles as he twirls you around to face him. “I will attend the ball, if only to see you. I shall not plague myself with worry.”
tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @enchantedbytomandhenry @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @dd122004dd @marvelspogue @emotionsmgcbabe @pIk-18 @larueluvr
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ladygatuna · 1 day
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Chapter 1: The good Son returns home
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"Everything will be different, there's no need to be afraid."
This phrase reverberated incessantly in Veronica's mind. Your hands are shaking, your breathing is ragged, each step is a challenge. He felt on the verge of collapse, staggering and bumping into people. Passersby in Gotham cast disdainful glances, murmuring about yet another addict on the run. She didn't blame them.
Gotham. The city remained unchanged, still exuding its putrid odor, and criminals continued to sneak through the dark alleys. The same Gotham she had left, perhaps a little less degraded than she expected. After all, she had abandoned her duty, running away at the first chance. When he looked up, he saw a large bat symbol lighting up the sky. Something new. Something that seemed to frighten criminals. But why? Bats weren't that terrifying.
Or were they?
A few hours earlier, she had left the portal that brought her back to a dark and dirty alley, her last memory of the city. "Damn, it's the bat!" someone had exclaimed, and his heightened senses went on alert. A glass bottle whizzed past his head, with almost no time to dodge. When he turned around, he saw three men crouched, huddled and shaking. As they approached, they jumped to their feet with mischievous smiles.
"I didn't say it was just an invention, guys! It's just a lost kitten!" shouted the loudest one. His stomach dropped at the last sentence. The look in those men's eyes said everything that was going on in their minds. She forgot that alleys in Gotham were the last thing to go into at night.
But something else was running through his head.
"Who the hell is the bat?" Her voice was weak, but she knew they heard her, as they flinched a little.
"Let's go, boss, this looks like a trap!" shouted the smallest of them, the most agitated, who was looking everywhere, especially upwards.
"Hold still, man," said the older one, pushing the younger one who fell to the ground. "You're going to scare the girl with your inventions!"
"It's not an invention, I saw him, damn it!"
Veronica stood still, observing the scene. Clearly, there were criminals hiding from this bat, perhaps a boss. But she wouldn't stay there to find out. His body was in survival mode, he just needed a warm bed. Taking advantage of their fight, she slowly left, so tired that she didn't hear the footsteps behind her. It all happened very quickly, with no chance of defense.
He felt his body being thrown against the wall, screaming in pain. Unfortunately, she still hadn't recovered from her old injuries or gotten rid of the toxin Miguel had injected into her. I wouldn't die, but the feeling was horrible. Miguel was now his number one enemy.
Before she could get up, the older man kicked her in the stomach, knocking the air out of her. Everything spun around again.
"Where do you think you're going, whore?" He screamed in her ears as he pulled her hair, dragging her back to the other two. "The night was difficult, we need fun!" His body was thrown to the ground violently, a crack was heard followed by crying.
Bones were the hardest to heal and the most painful. They ruined the entire process that Hobie had taken so long to complete. She heard the tallest one celebrating, clapping and praising his friend for getting a prostitute. They were so happy that they didn't notice when she stood up, her eyes lifeless and her pupils dilated. However, he didn't remember exactly what happened in the alley, just screams and the taste of blood in his mouth. The next thing he remembered was being on the streets, returning to his safe home.
Still looking at the bat symbol, Veronica hoped he wasn't a mafia boss who had taken over the streets, explaining the fear of criminals. But, she didn't have time now. I needed to rest. I wouldn't beat a man in that state.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she arrived in front of an apartment. It remained the same. I hoped nothing had changed. He climbed the wall to the fourth floor. Everything was silent. The balcony door had a curtain, which made her heart sink.
"What if she has moved?"
Building up courage, he knocked on the glass door, whistling a familiar lullaby. Silence took over the place, only the distant sounds of police cars and ambulances.
"Maybe she was sleeping."
It wasn't impossible, it was dawn. I needed to do it louder. Just as he was about to knock again, he heard heavy footsteps running up to the window.
Two beats, and the rest of the melody. Her heart jumped when she heard her friend's voice ask, "Are the owls free, sir?"
With joy, Veronica replied: "They have never been in prison, my child!"
The curtain was thrown aside, and the door opened. A tearful, red-haired figure appeared, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Hi, little orange," said Veronica, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
The night would be long.
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ltash · 2 days
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Ramshackled
You and Ghost are in love and he takes care of you after you get wounded.
"My heart is a battlefield of love and pain, torn between what is right and what I want."
We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, time frozen around us. His grip was tight, lifting me as he stood. I was standing on my tiptoes.
Captain Price cleared his throat. "If you two lovebirds are done, we have an interrogation to proceed with."
Simon slowly let me go. "You should rest, Nora," he said, kissing my forehead and grabbing his gun from the floor.
"The slap hurt," he pointed out, touching his cheek before winking at me and turning to go.
I returned to the hospital, back to my room, and sat on my bed, the weight of everything sinking in.
About an hour passed, and Ghost returned with Captain Price. They had a woman with them. I stood up, scrutinizing her features. She was the same woman from the drug cartel.
Mere seconds later, Ghost pushed the woman, and she landed at my feet. "Apologize!" Ghost growled.
"I am sorry," the woman said.
"Who is she?" I asked.
"She is El Sin Nombre. Valeria," Ghost replied. "She is responsible for everything."
"Take her back, Ghost," I said, sitting back on the bed and looking away. "It doesn't matter anymore. I don't need an apology now."
"What her men and she did to you, and you're still saying this?" Ghost replied, incredulity in his voice.
"Yes," I said firmly. "Because the damage has already been done." I looked at the woman. "You can go now."
The woman glanced at Ghost, unsure.
"I forgive you," I said, my voice steady but my heart heavy. "Now, go."
Ghost stared at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and admiration. He turned to Valeria and motioned for her to leave. She hesitated for a moment before standing up and walking out, escorted by Captain Price.
Ghost remained, his gaze fixed on me, trying to understand the depth of my strength and forgiveness.
"Are you alright, love?" he asked, sitting on the bed in front of me. His concern was palpable, but I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes. I kept looking the other way.
"I’m fine," I said quietly, "but I’m not the same anymore. The Nora in me died last night. I don’t know what remains of me now."
Ghost reached out, his gloved hand gently turning my face toward him. "You're still you, Nora. You’re strong, and you’re here. That’s what matters."
I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes. "It doesn’t feel that way, Simon. It feels like I’ve lost everything that made me...me."
He pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. "We’ll find a way to get through this, together. You’re not alone. Not ever."
I buried my face in his shoulder, letting the tears flow.
"I don’t know how I’ll cover the damages," I murmured, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me. "Millions of dollars worth of inventory burned with my office building. I might have to sell my home or what’s left of my father’s company."
Ghost held me tighter, his voice steady and reassuring. "We’ll figure it out, Nora. You don’t have to do this alone. We’ll find a way."
"But Simon," I protested, "it's too much. I can’t ask you to carry this burden with me. You have your own responsibilities."
He pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes with a fierce determination. "You’re my responsibility, Nora. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you. We’ll rebuild everything together."
I nodded slowly, taking comfort in his words even as doubt lingered in my mind. "I just don’t want to lose everything my father worked so hard for."
"You won’t," he said firmly. "We’ll find a way to keep the company alive. But first, you need to rest and recover. We’ll tackle everything else one step at a time."
I sighed, feeling a small glimmer of hope amidst the despair. "Okay. One step at a time."
"One step at a time," he echoed, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "We’ll get through this, Nora. I promise."
"For now, just come with me," he said softly. "Let's go to my room and rest. I will take care of you."
I looked up at him, seeing the genuine concern in his eyes. For a moment, I hesitated, still feeling the weight of everything that had happened. But then, I nodded, letting him guide me.
As we walked to his room, the silence between us was comforting. It felt like a promise that, no matter what, he would be there for me. We reached his room, and he gently helped me sit on the bed.
"Lie down and rest," he said, pulling a blanket over me. "I’ll be right here."
I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of the blanket and the reassurance of his presence. "Thank you, Simon," I whispered.
He took off his vest and set his gun aside before climbing into the bed with me. Heat radiated from his body as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. His presence was a comforting warmth against the chill that had settled in my bones.
"I've got you, love," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. "Rest now. We'll figure everything out together."
I nestled closer, allowing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat to soothe me.
I was so tired, my body so sore. I rested my head on his chest.
"You know, Simon, I love sleeping on you," I said in a sleepy voice, trailing my finger down his chest.
He stroked his fingers through my tangled hair, a gentle rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. Slowly, I closed my eyes, feeling his warmth and strength surrounding me. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I allowed myself to drift into a peaceful sleep.
In the morning, when I opened my eyes, my head was nestled on his arm as he spooned me from behind. His other arm was wrapped around me, his face buried in the back of my neck, and I could feel his warm breaths. I turned around to face him.
He looked so peaceful while asleep. I cupped his face, stroking his cheek with my thumb. Leaning in, I kissed his forehead, then the crooked bridge of his broken nose, and finally, my lips brushed against his. He opened his eyes slowly. His lips parted to say something, but I placed my finger on them.
"Ssh!" I hushed him before pressing my lips onto his, kissing him sensually. His grip on my back tightened as he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss.
I was intoxicated but I knew i couldn't go further with him because of my condition.
"Simon". I whispered. We shouldn't be doing this. I said
"I know," he murmured against my lips, his breath warm and reassuring. He pulled back slightly, his gaze searching mine. "I'm here for you, Nora, no matter what. We'll take things slow, okay?"
"Okay." I whispered.
He got up from the bed slowly.
"Your dressing needs to be changed then we'll have breakfast together." He said.
He went out of the room and came  back after 15 minutes with dressing supplied.
Sitting beside me on the bed. He inspected my bandage hidden under the cargo pants.
With careful hands, Simon assisted me in sliding down my cargo pants, then carefully cut away the previous bandage. After cleaning the wound gently, which had already been stitched by the doctors, he wrapped the new bandage around it. Finally, he helped me pull my pants back up.
"I want to take a shower," I said.
"But your bandage?" Simon asked, concerned. "Let me wash your hair for you. I'll take care of the rest."
He placed a small chair by the sink, and I leaned against it. Gently, he rinsed and washed my tangled hair with shampoo. After wrapping a towel around my head, he filled the bathtub for me.
"Don't let your bandage get wet," he instructed. "I'm waiting outside. Take your time."
He closed the door behind him, leaving me alone in the bathroom. I rested my head against the edge of the bathtub, careful not to soak my bandage. As I soaked in the warm water, I felt grateful for everything he had done for me. I decided then and there that, come what may, even if I had to sell my big house, I would buy another in his hometown so that I could always be near him.
I came out, a towel wrapped around me, my clothes in my hand. He had brought another pair of clothes, thankfully in my size. "Here," he said, handing them to me.
He helped me get changed, his hands gentle and careful. I combed my hair and let it fall loose down my back.
"Let's go outside. I want to introduce you to the other team we work with," he said, offering me his hand. I took it, feeling a sense of warmth and security, and walked with him outside the room.
We reached the cafeteria holding hands. Alejandro, Rodolfo, Captain Price, Soap, Gaz, and Phillip Graves were sitting at a table.
"Come join us," Captain Price said, motioning to the empty seats.
Ghost pulled out a chair for me, and we sat down together.
"So, you're Nora Grace," Phillip Graves said, looking at me with interest.
"Yes, I am. You American?" I asked, noting his accent.
"Yes, you from the South too?" Graves asked.
"Yes. From Houston, Texas," I replied.
"Ye haven't seen Nora shootin' a sniper. Man! The way she shot the enemies when we were attacked looked like she was a pro," Soap added with enthusiasm.
"Thanks, Soap," I said, smiling at him.
"How did you learn to shoot, hermana?" Alejandro asked this time, his curiosity piqued.
"Ghost taught me. He is the best sniper in the task force," I said, holding Ghost's arm affectionately. Ghost remained stoic, but I could see a hint of pride in his eyes.
Captain Price chimed in, "She's the daughter of the late General Marshall, who retired before General Shepherd. She surely has army genes in her."
"Why don't you join the Taskforce, Nora?" Soap suggested with a grin.
"Or Shadow Company," Phillip Graves added.
"She is not joining any team now, let alone the Taskforce," Ghost said firmly, holding my hand.
I looked at Ghost and then smiled. "Or, if I could, I would join the Taskforce any day to support you, Ghost."
Ghost's grip on my hand tightened slightly, and a rare, soft look crossed his face. "Let's just focus on getting you better first, yeah?" he said, his voice gentle.
"We have a mission tonight," Captain Price announced, his tone serious. "Our intel suggests the missile is on the oil rig. We have to destroy it before it leaves for Washington."
"What? A missile? Is Washington, D.C. in danger?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"Yes, kid. It's Hassan's target," Captain Price confirmed. "We need to destroy it before it wipes out the whole city. Our team, along with Phillip Graves, is heading out today to take care of it. Wish us luck."
"All will go well, Captain Price," I said, trying to sound confident. "My wishes and prayers are always with you guys. You will succeed."
Price nodded, appreciation in his eyes. "Thank you, Nora. We'll make sure of it."
"Aye lass! You are so brave. Hitting LT on his face. No one has ever done that." Soap chuckled.
Ghost glared at him, but there was a hint of a smile in his eyes. "Yes, she is a fighter, and I need her to be brave every time for me."
"You are lucky, Ghost, to have found a girl like her," Alejandro said.
"No, I am lucky to have found him," I replied, holding Ghost's arm tightly.
"Hey! Let's go to the shooting range, lass. Show us your sniper skills," Soap said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Besides, I've got your sniper with me that Ghost gave you."
"What? You got it? I thought I would never get it back," I said, surprised and excited.
"Yeah! You left it beside me when they took you. I made sure I kept your guns safe for you," he said, grinning.
"You are not well, Nora. You can't go to the shooting range now," Ghost interjected, concern etched on his face.
"I'm doing better, Ghost. Let me go with Soap, please. I need fresh air too," I added, trying to reassure him.
"It's okay, but I will go with you," he said, relenting.
"Let me bring your guns," Soap said as he stood up.
"We'll come with you," Alejandro added. "Show us your skills, hermana."
"Of course," I replied, feeling a mix of excitement and determination.
Soap returned with my sniper and Glock, handing them to me. Ghost gave me a holster for my gun, and I wore it with the sniper in my hand.
"Hermana, you look like one of us, the Vaqueros," Alejandro said, a hint of pride in his voice.
"Yes, she looks like a soldier," Soap chuckled.
"I am one of you guys. I'm a fighter, fighting my own battles within myself," I answered.
With that, I bolted and reloaded the sniper, positioning it against my shoulder. I pulled the trigger, and shots rang out as I aimed towards the target. Most of the bullets hit near the center.
Ghost cheered me on, and I wrapped my arms around him. "You did so well, Nora," Soap said, patting my shoulder.
I noticed Phillip Graves narrowing his eyes at me. Throughout the time, he had been watching me intently. Ghost noticed it too, but he didn't say a word.
Captain Price gave me a side hug. "So proud of you, kid. Like father, like daughter," he said, his voice filled with warmth and pride.
"Ghost gave me his hand. 'Let's go inside, Nora. I have to prepare for our next mission.'
'You noticed Graves, how he was looking at me,' I said while entering the room.
'Yes, I noted it. He's just jealous of who you are, Nora. Much better than him in every way,' Ghost replied.
'I don't think so. He's good with his words, and he's a trained soldier,' I replied.
'Yes, he is, but I don't trust him,' Ghost said.
'Be careful who you trust. People you know can hurt you the most,' Ghost added, his words weighing heavily on me.
I kept staring at him, realizing the gravity of his words. He was absolutely right."
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wonryllis · 2 hours
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after hours, i can be whatever you want me to be ⭑ ( lhs. )
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⭑ FEATURING horrendously down down bad lee heeseung x kinda naive philophobic fem!reader. where heeseung has no intentions of escaping your cages, forever remaining under the spell of your love. ( ARCHIVE? )
⭑ GENRE & WARNINGS fluff, toxic situation, almost kissing, mildly suggestive WORDCOUNT 0.834k
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she's crazy but i love her.
heeseung's steps are slow and calculated, eyes glued on your figure trying to make your way to his car. stumbling and wobbly in heels you (kind of) seem accustomed to, feet clicking against the pavement in a hasty stride. he's worried. you were out with friends past midnight on a weekday, called him all drunk to pick you up from the bar and now you are barely able to walk straight, ankle on the verge of twisting at any given moment but you wouldn't let him hold you. he's worried sick.
"angel please just hold onto me hm?" he pleads rushing over when you visibly slip on an uneven part, hands almost gripping around your waist as you manage to keep your balance, staggering back into his arms in a couple of steps.
"you! who are you!" your hands push against his chest as you turn around startled. there it goes, again! heeseung sighs knowing what's to come. it's the third time in the last fifteen minutes, going over this exact conversation word to word.
"it's heeseung, your cousin's friend and your friend," he makes sure to emphasize on 'your friend' trying to stop this before it gets further into the loop.
"where's my cousin?" you ask, looking around the rather empty parking lot.
"he working," heeseung's explanation is dry because he knows you'll cut him off before he can say anything more,"and why are you here?" just like that. he remembers the first time this happened, when you were actually sober and met him at your cousin brother: jay's workplace. you showed up out of nowhere, without any notice and jay was going bonkers at how he'll get you back home when he has the most important client waiting for him in the next room. heeseung hadn't thought much when he offered to drop you off, a favor for a friend that was all it was to him.
"because you called me, angel," but god was he wrong, for he swears the moment he laid his eyes on you he was a goner. you were too darn pretty to be just a favor. you were younger, a party girl always running out to frat and sorority gatherings, bars and clubs. often calling jay to pick you up to avoid letting your parents know of your shenanigans.
"why did i call you and not my cousin?" everytime he had wished it was him and not jay, even though ultimately he was the one who went. carrying your cute drunk ass to your mansion and getting you to your room as discreetly as possible. you are a rich girl, two worlds apart and heeseung has felt it in many ways than not.
"because i'm your cousin's friend and you know me well," heeseung never thought he'd ever be more than just your cousin's friend to you. at least he hopes he is more. you have done things with him that you'd definitely not do with just your cousin's friend. a space curtaining acquaintance and lover, he hangs dangerously cold and heedless.
"so where's my cousin?" between days left ghosted and nights you throw your arms around him he stands unsure of his place in your life. at times he feels you know he's the one who could treat you better than any of the guys you cry for. yet there are moments when there's this sturdy wall you build, holding him away for the sake of not losing him like others. afraid of love is what you refuse you are but heeseung knows your conceptions of it are a little too twisted, broken he dare say. and his love for you is so far and conflicted to the things you have experienced, he understands the lengths and the time it will take for you to recognize and accept him.
"you know what, i'm getting you in the car myself," in an instance his hands grip at the back of knees and the curve of your waist, hauling you up in his arms. he walks quick to his car parked at the far end, smiling through the constant pouty mumbles of yours. eyeing you every two seconds, not being able to resist that pretty face of yours.
it is absolutely not in him to ever resist that pretty face of yours, your pretty eyes and your pretty lips as they graze against his own in gentle brushes. arms looped around his neck and thighs resting on the soft matress of your bed, albeit on each side of his own, yet again. sitting on his lap, so close, bodies pressed. "heeseungie, please stay," your voice a sultry whisper of a whine, a naive vixen, if that's even a thing.
lee heeseung knows he will never have the power to refuse you, he will be whatever you want him to be for how ever long you will want him to be.
you make him crazy and he loves you for that.
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taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @ro-diaries @aaa-sia @okwonyo @enhabooks @jjunae @criminalyun @enhacrumbsss @oddracha @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @mxxnintheskyreblogs
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translaytonblr · 2 years
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my rinkydink splat drawings of Him (ft. apprentice number 1)... this shit is so hard to draw on and yet so worth it. yes i know the squid/octo eyeliner is missing i forgot okay
[Image ID 1: A black and white drawing on the splatoon 3 post feature of hershel layton with octoling features holding a finger up and smiling. The caption next to him says "Every puzzle is a fun puzzle!". /.End ID.]
[Image ID 2: A black and white drawing on the splatoon 3 post feature of Hershel Layton and Luke Triton with slight inkling features smiling at the camera. There are large jigsaw puzzle pieces and exclamation points patterned around them. /.End ID.]
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agirlsguidetolove · 10 months
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I THOUGHT YOU KNEW
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pairings: theodore nott x reader
word count: 0.9k
summary: “i thought you knew?” “you thought i knew we were dating?” “yes!” “how would i know that, nott, you never told me.”
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Theodore Nott had dead eyes. That was something you had learned early on in your friendship with the boy; never expect his eyes to tell you anything. But, right now, you couldn’t help but wonder if your own advice was wrong because the look he was giving you in the moment was the farthest thing to dead. Alive.
Theodore’s eyes were ablazed, like you had lit a match in his face just as he had done with his cigarettes the night before. They looked on fire as he glared off at you, standing and chatting with some Ravenclaw boy who had decided to make the stupid of going to a slytherin party and talking to Theo’s girl.
It was a common fact that you and Theo had something, everyone knew. Well, maybe except for you.
Maybe that’s why you hadn’t expected for Theodore to waltz up to you and your new friend and throw an arm over your shoulder, and stand and listen to you too talk, not saying a word.
“Think we should get out of here?” Was the first thing he said to you, well, whispered into your ear, pulling you closer.
“I’m okay here, Teddy,” you said. Theo visible softened, melting into you at the nickname only you were allowed to call him. “You can go, though. I’ll be alright, promise.”
Theo smiled at you as you patted his arm that was wrapped around your shoulder, watching as your attention drifted back to whoever this guy was. He sighed.
“I know,” Theo started before your Ravenclaw friend interrupted.
“Yeah, mate, we’ll be okay,” he said. Theo hardened, dead eyes becoming colder as he took his arm off your shoulder, stepping forward and shoving the guy.
“Was I fucking talking to you, mate?” he spit.
“Woah!” you cut, pulling Theo back with your hand to his chest, “What the hell, Theo?”
“Yeah,” the Raveclaw pants. “What the hell, Nott? Calm down!”
Theodore sneers, glaring harshly ate the boy before hissing, “Fuck off,” and pushing past him and bumping his shoulder aggressively as he makes his way out of the common room.
Staring of at his fuming figure you quickly apologize to the boy before chasing off after Theo. When you find him, he’s angrily pacing through the hallway, running a hand through his hair.
“Theo,” you state angrily. Theo’s head whips to where you stand before shaking his head and choosing to walk away from you and down the hall.
“Theo!” you yell, walking quickly behind him. “What the fuck was that about? Can you wait for a second and talk to me?”
Theo stops, allowing you to catch up to him. You can practically see the steam coming out when he turns to you. “What am I supposed to do?” he asks bitterly. “Just let him flirt with you?”
“What?” you ask, just as bitter. “What are you talking about? Why’d you have to fucking shove, Dylan?”
Dylan. Theodore scoffs, getting madder by the second. He takes a step closer, towering over you. “So I’m just supposed to stand there when some prick is running up on my girlfriend!”
Girlfriend? What the hell was he on about. “Girlfriend?” you question, softer.
“Yes! You’re my girlfriend!” Theodore shouted. He just wasn’t getting it, was he?
“What?” you spluttered. “Since when?”
“What,” Theo got quieter.
“i didn’t know…” you said. “when did we start dating?…o-officially?”
“You didn’t know?” he repeated, incredulous. “I… I thought… I thought you knew?”
“You thought I knew we were dating?” You were getting louder, voice echoing off the walked.
“Yes!” Theo yelled, eyes getting sadder.
“How would I know that, Nott, you never told me!”
Theodore shakes his head, again getting gentle. “Don’t start calling me ‘Nott’ now, angel, you don’t do that.”
“Theo,” you reiterated, taking a breath. “When did we— when did we start ‘dating’.”
Theo looks like a kicked puppy when he says, “Last trip to Hogsmeade. We kissed.”
Looking at the ground, you say, “Just because we kissed doesn’t mean we’re dating.”
“To me, it did!”
“You kiss plenty of girls that you’re not dating!” you argue.
Theo scoffs, “They’re not you, now are they?”
“Teddy,” you say, tears quickly forming in your eyes. Looking up at him, he purses his lips, heart breaking in his chest. “Why couldn’t you have just asked me to be your girlfriend?”
“Love, I… I thought you knew, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” you swallow, hugging yourself with your own arms, still holding in your tears. “Well, I didn’t.”
It’s silent between you both for a moment, nothing but you staring at the floor and Theo staring at you. Theo takes a small step forward, his hands touching where you hold yourself. “Would you?” he says, “Be my girlfriend, if I asked?”
“Yeah,” you chuckle, looking up at him, “if you’d ask, you dick.”
Theo chuckles, dipping his head low and putting his lips against yours. His lips are so soft, despite how he tastes like liquor and cigarettes. He breaks apart from you, hand coming to caress your cheek. “Would you be my girlfriend?”
“Yes, I would.”
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not proof read 🧸
i 🫶 theo nott
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erwinsvow · 3 months
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PLEASEEEE can u show the time where reader caught rafe punching the squishmallows that really sent me
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"don't laugh, okay?" you say it softly, right outside the door to your bedroom.
"why would i laugh?" rafe’s asking seriously, but you're already a tiny bit embarrassed of what lies on the other side of the door and you're unsure how rafe will react.
"it's, like, a third of the size of your room-"
"shut up and open the door."
you sigh, turning the handle and pushing to let yourself in first. rafe follows, staring around the tiny room observantly. his eyes flicker from corner to corner, taking it in. you stand to the side patiently, playing with your hands, in particular the ring rafe had just gotten you, fiddling and twisting it repeatedly.
he walks around for a second, stopping at your bookshelf to take a look at the titles on the shelves and then moving on, staring at the photos on the wall and then sniffing a stray candle on the nightstand. he finally stops at your dresser, glancing over the lotions and perfumes littered on top to stare at the framed picture of the two of you perched right in the center, odds and ends he's gotten you in the last month scattered around.
"so?" you question quietly, eyes big.
"which drawer's got your panties?"
"rafe! shut up."
"it's a cute room. why'd you get so worried?"
"i don't know. habit." you settle on the bed, bringing your biggest squishmallow onto your lap, holding it in your arms comfortingly. rafe's still looking around.
"always had one favorite color, huh?"
"yes," you admit, squeezing the stuffed animal harder. rafe finally comes to join you on the bed, gesturing to the squishmallow as soon as he does.
"what the hell is that?"
"this is ricky. he's a clownfish. he has a career, i just can't remember-"
"huh?"
"they all have jobs and hobbies, rafe. the squishmallows. i think he's an underwater singer or something."
"you sleep with that huge thing on the bed?"
"every night. when i'm here, at least. i should get one for tannyhill!"
"don't know about all that." he takes it into his hands, moving it around, observing it from all sides. "every single night?"
"yeah. why?"
"nothin'."
the conversation changes to the books on your nightstand, and you forget all about the squishmallow resting on your bed until you step out to get a cup of lemonade for rafe.
walking back in, you wonder if you put enough sugar in, when you open the door to see rafe smacking your squishmallow with his right hook, right to his little face.
"what are you doing?!" it spills out before you can stop it, the lemonade almost falling out of your hand.
"look at the dent. how does it go back to how it was?" he questions, while you look over at him, horrified. "what's inside it? feathers, or some shit?" he looks over to get an answer, when he looks at your distraught face.
"what?"
even when he sleeps over, he's never allowed to touch your squishmallow again.
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