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favefandomimagines · 1 year

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It Had To Be You 3 (s.h)

Summary: Steve can’t tell you about Nick, you wouldn’t believe him. So you’re reminded of happier times.

Part 1

Part 2

AN: part 3! I’m so sorry for how long it has taken me to get this written and posted! It has been a very busy couple weeks for me!

Also, I am being that person and changing things halfway through the story lol reader is now Max’s sister! I’ll be going through the other parts and making some changes to better fit that! There’s a scene in Eloise at Christmas Time that I really wanted to include with Max!

Taglist: @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @freezaz123 @mochminnie @selfdeprecatingnerd @tattooedkiss13 @alana4610 @skewedcherries @pariahsparadise @weasleylovers @jasfadel-blog @evansflowers @bellenotthebeast @justmesadgirl @m-rae23

Max couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This guy who said he loved you, got down on one knee, put a ring on your finger and who was going to be apart of her family, was a con artist.

He tricked you and now he was out to take her stepdads money. Your’s and Max’s mom married an uber rich businessman, Bill, shortly after she was released from the hospital after Vecna. He was nice and treated you and Max well.

It was refreshing having an actually father figure after so long. After a couple years he officially adopted you and Max. So his money equalled your money.

When Steve arrived at the Mayfield’s with Dustin in tow and broke the news, Max was fuming. You and Nick were out with your wedding planner finishing up some details, otherwise she would kill him where he stood.

“And you’re sure you heard him correctly?” Dustin asked. “Of course he did. It’s hard to make up ‘her money is mine.’ God, what a dick.” Max answered. “I’m positive. What the hell are we going to do? We can’t let her marry a guy like that.” Steve said.

“What can we do? Do we think Y/N would believe us?” Dustin questioned. “Maybe we don’t have to tell her about Nick’s plan. We wanted her and Steve back together, maybe we remind her of how great they were together. Remind her of the good times before this asshole came into the picture.” Max suggested.

“Brilliant! And then we can have Steve swoop in and everything will be right in the world.” Dustin said. “Guys, don’t you feel a little guilty about this? I mean, Y/N is going to be livid when she finds out we meddled.” Steve said. “We’re not meddling, we’re helping her. Besides, you want her back right?” The young man replied.

“Well, yeah, but-“ Steve started. “Then let us do this.” Max cut him off.

Steve begrudgingly agreed to their plan. He wanted what’s best for you, regardless if it was with him or someone else and he knew the best wasn’t with Nick.

—

You and Max arrived at the wedding dress boutique for you final fitting before the wedding. Though after your night with Steve, you were starting to question everything.

“Hey, are you okay?” Max asked you. “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay, just thinking.” You answered. “Thinking about what?” She questioned. “Thinking about how you haven’t worn a dress in over a decade.” You laughed. Max laughed with you as she looked at her reflection.

Thankfully you weren’t one of those brides who wants their bridesmaids to look ugly. You picked a nice, simple blush colored dress for Max to wear.

“Did you ever think you’d be here?” Max asked. “Honestly, no. This sounds stupid but I always pictured that Billy would be here.” You spoke honestly.

You and Max hadn’t talked about Billy since after Vecna. Everything changed after the demodogs and Max finally stood up to Billy. Though he was still a prick, he wasn’t cruel to you or her. He was just annoying step-brother. You never wanted him to die.

“Really?” Max asked. “He was an ass, but he was changing. I just wish he got the chance.” You said. “Me too.” Max replied.

The both of you shook off the sad feeling when the tailor brought in your dress.

Once you wearing it, a small part of you felt suffocated in the fabric. As if your body was telling you that this wasn’t what you really wanted.

“Do you remember that movie dad used to play during Christmas? The one with Bing Crosby and the sisters?” Max asked. “White Christmas? What about it?” You questioned

“I remember that song, the sisters song, and we would put on mom’s old dresses and dance around to that song.” She said with a fond smile. “And then Dustin and Steve found pictures and made us reenact the scene in front of everyone.” You laughed. “But even when we were butchering that song, I have never seen Steve look more in love with you.” Max said.

Your smile faltered slightly. “Yeah, he was pretty good at putting up with me.” You said. “Do you ever miss him?” Max asked. “Yeah. I miss having someone to talk to. When the nightmares get bad or when I can still hear Billy screaming. I can’t tell Nick, he’d think I was crazy. Steve got it, though. He always got it.” You answered.

“But I don’t know if I miss him or just miss someone telling me I’m not crazy.” You added.

“Y/N, I know you better than anyone. You miss Steve, all of Steve. Not just having someone to talk to because you have me. I know you think you love Nick but maybe you just love the normalcy. And I’m saying this because your my sister and I love you but let’s face it, we will never be normal. You could tell Nick the truth but odds are, he will think you’re nuts. Since the day he met you, Steve never thought you were nuts.” Max said.

You were ready to respond when you heard Nick’s voice enter the bridal shop.

“Y/N!” He called. “Shoot, he can’t see me in my dress.” You spoke, hiding behind the divider. Nick entered the space and saw Max standing with her arms crossed.

“Ah, well isn’t it the maid of honor.” He said. “Nick.” Max replied. “You don’t like me very much, do you?” Nick asked. “Because I know what you’re doing. The real reason you want to marry my sister. How many people do you owe money to?” Max questioned.

Nick’s face fell upon hearing her words. He didn’t think anyone was on to him. How did your sister find out? Or is she just bluffing?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nick said. “I think you do, Nick. I know the game you’re playing and I won’t let you break my sister’s heart or steal my family’s money.” Max warned. “There’s really nothing you can do about it because she won’t believe you.” Nick replied.

“Oh we’ll see about that.” Max told him.

You returned back to the main room, both Nick and Max composing themselves. “Hey, sorry we were running a bit behind.” You said. “That’s alright. How about I take you to lunch?” Nick offered. “Uh sure. Let me just make sure Max-“ You started before she interrupted. “It’s okay. Lucas is already on his way, we have plans.” She said.

You nodded your head and gave her a smile before Nick led you out of the shop.

—

That night, you were restless. You couldn’t stay asleep longer than an hour and you were grateful you weren’t sharing a room with Nick. You were being plagued with nightmares and no matter how much you told yourself it wasn’t real, it didn’t stop the nightmares.

You were reliving every horrifying and potentially fatal moment from your high school years. The demodogs and holding on to Steve as they all came running towards you in that tunnel. You could hear Billy’s screams as he was being impaled by the Mindflyer. You and Max begging him to stay alive and him only being able to mutter out an ‘I’m sorry.’

Finding Max on the verge of death in Lucas’ arms, begging whatever god was listening not to take her away from you.

You hadn’t had this bad of a night in months and the only person who used to help settle those thoughts, was only a few blocks away.

Getting up quietly, you put on a pair of sneakers and quietly crept out the door. You knew Steve’s parents didn’t live in Hawkins anymore and basically left Steve their house. Making him a glorified house sitter.

The walk was short, and you recalled the late nights in the Summer time you would walk this route with Steve.

Though it was safe and it was Hawkins, you were hyper aware of your surroundings. Waiting for the shadows to become monsters.

You arrived at Steve’s house and hesitated to ring the doorbell. He was probably fast asleep and wouldn’t even answer the door. Maybe once he saw it was you, he wouldn’t answer the door anyways.

You haven’t exactly done anything to deserve his kindness.

“Just ring the doorbell, Y/N.” You told yourself. Right as you were about to press the button, the door opened. Steve was standing in his pajamas and his robe, staring back at you.

“I heard you mumbling to yourself.” He said. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I came here. I just, I kept hearing the screaming and it only ever stopped when I was with you.” You told him. You didn’t even know why you told him that.

“You never have to apologize. Come in.” Steve spoke. You gave him a grateful smile as you walked into the house. “Does hot chocolate still help?” Steve asked. “You remember?” You questioned. “We spent a lot of late nights together, Y/N. Of course I remember.” He answered.

You sat at the kitchen table as Steve made two mugs of hot chocolate. He could see that you were at a war with yourself. He hated that you had to go through this every night and he knew that being back in town wasn’t helping.

“Want to talk about it?” He asked, setting the mug down. “They haven’t been this bad in a while. It started a few weeks ago when Nick suggested we have the wedding in Hawkins. It’s like I’m reliving everything over again on a constant loop. A-And I know it’s over, I know we defeated Vecna but sometimes my mind likes me to think differently.” You explained.

Steve placed a hand on top of yours and it was first feeling of relief you had felt all night. “Is it Billy again?” He questioned. “Billy, Max, you. I didn’t even like Billy 95% of the time and yet why is he on the list of people care about? Why do I have to watch him die again?” You answered.

“Y/N, I’ve told you this before. Yeah he was an asshole but he was still a part of your family. I don’t think it’s easy to get over seeing your step-brother die.” Steve said.

“I know and maybe this is why I need therapy. I can’t always come to you when I get nightmares.” You replied. “You can always come to me. I know I messed up really bad but I’ll always be there for you no matter what.” Steve told you.

You nodded your head but you weren’t being too convincing. “I rented Top Gun and I know how much you love Meg Ryan.” Steve suggested. “Meg Ryan is in that movie for all of five minutes.” You rebutted.

“Yes, but, Tom Cruise, Val Kilmer, Anthony Edwards. Come on, you know you love Top Gun.” He said. “Okay, fine. We can watch Top Gun. But you owe me waffles.” You replied. “Deal.” Steve said triumphantly.

Yet another evening that you spent with Steve and it felt like old times. But with all of the good feelings came the bad as well. You couldn’t just forget what happened with Steve and Nancy the night in the RV. It was why you left town in the first place.

“I uh, I should go. It’s really late.” You spoke. “What? You were all for this.” Steve questioned. “Yeah but I don’t want to worry anyone.” You said, standing up from the couch. “Y/N, what just happened?” Steve asked.

“I wish everything could go back to the way it was before Vecna but, I don’t think it can. All I can think about is you and Nancy. Y-You told her our dream and a part of me still feels betrayed.” You answered. “Y/N, I apologized for that and for everything. You have been the only person I’ve ever loved and probably the only person I’ll ever love. I was stupid to let you go.” Steve said.

“And I love you too, Steve. But we can’t be together. Nancy will always be there and I can’t go through that again.” You told him before leaving the house.

—

When you got home, it was dawn. Someone was going to be awake soon and wonder where you had gone.

You gently opened the front door and closed it quietly behind you. “Where were you?” You heard behind you. You jumped slightly and saw Nick standing behind you. “I was, uh, I needed some air.” You lied.

“You were with that guy weren’t you? Steve.” He asked. “What makes you think I was with Steve?” You asked. “Because you were with him the other night. When you were supposed to be at the movies with Max. Also the way you acted when you saw him at the party.” Nick explained.

“Nick,” You started. “You’re marrying me. Not him. I don’t want you to see him anymore.” He said. “He’s my friend, Nick. And you can’t tell me who I can and can’t see.” You retorted.

You attempted to move past him before he grabbed your arm harshly. It was like you went into fight or flight, him grabbing your arm and then seeing Neil do the same thing to Billy. You used all your strength and pushed Nick into the banister.

You both looked at each other with shocked expressions on your faces. “I’m sorry. I-I don’t know where that came from. Just, don’t grab me like that again.” You stammered. “Okay. Then don’t see Steve. And it won’t happen again.” Nick replied.

His threat didn’t go unnoticed as he walked back up the stairs. What you didn’t know, was that Max was spying on your from the kitchen and she had seen the whole thing.

“Y/N,” She called. You looked over at her and knew she saw what had just happened. “Max,” You started. “You can’t marry him.” She said. “He’s not going to do it again.” You said. “I’m not talking about that. There’s something he’s not telling you.” Max said. “What do you mean?” You asked.

Max knew she needed to tell you the truth about what Nick was planning. At this point, it wasn’t about getting you back with Steve anymore. It was about you not marrying someone who was going to lie to you.

#imagine #imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #robin buckley #max mayfield #nancy wheeler #eleven #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #will byers #jonathan byers #dustin henderson #billy hargrove

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depressedhouseplant · 2 months

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Just Fucking Write - Day 54

Prompt: Minkev for Kevin Day!

Tags: Mentions of gun violence, grief & the grieving process

A/N: Happy birthday to our Moonlight Boy. Connected to Day 18 & Cops & Robbers

“Thank you for the flowers,” Kevin said.

“Thank you for making sure I didn’t die in my sleep. And thank you for accepting my dinner invitation,” Mingi smiled a little in return. Kevin shifted in his seat.

“I’ll be honest, I’m really not sure what to do. If you’re looking for a relationship or a boyfriend or something more than just whatever this is, I don’t know if I can give it to you,” Kevin blurted out.

“I’m not sure what I’m looking for either. Mafia trained snipers don’t really have time to date,” Mingi replied.

“And somehow I ended up married to one,” Kevin huffed a laugh.

“I didn’t know him personally, but he seemed like a good guy. At least, as good as guys like us can be,” Mingi reached over and put his hand on top of Kevin’s.

“I miss him every day,” Kevin felt his eyes welling up. Not in public. He couldn’t start crying in public.

“I would too,” Mingi squeezed his hand. “Should I get dinner to go?”

“Please,” Kevin looked down so Mingi couldn’t see his tears. He held Kevin’s hand the entire time getting the food packaged and paying the bill.

“I don’t want to impose, but I also don’t want to just leave you. Would you mind if I came home with you?” Mingi suggested.

“No, that would be nice. I’d like that,” Kevin finally looked up.

”I won’t judge you for crying, you know. Just throwing that out there,” Mingi said when they got outside.

”I really don’t want to cry,” Kevin sniffed. Mingi put his arm around him which is when Kevin realized just how tall and long the other man was.

”Well, I won’t judge you regardless,” he said.

“Thank you,” Kevin tried to smile. He liked the feeling of Mingi’s arm around him. They didn’t say much on the ride back to Kevin’s apartment.

“For later,” Mingi said as he put the food in the fridge. Kevin was slightly embarrassed since he hadn’t cleaned out the fridge of old takeout boxes yet. Looking around all he could see were undone chores because if he wasn’t at the hospital, he was dealing with one of Juyeon’s men getting himself injured. Jacob had been the one to do the chores.

”Sorry for the mess,” Kevin said.

”You’re busy. It happens,” Mingi shrugged. “So how can I help?”

”Help?” Kevin cocked his head.

”Do you need a hug? Someone to just sit with? I don’t really have a huge amount to talk about since I live by myself and don’t really have friends, but I’d like to think I’m a decent listener if you want to vent,” Mingi told him. Kevin considered the other man’s suggestions.

”I think I’d like a hug,” he decided.

”Then a hug it is,” Mingi smiled and wrapped his arms around Kevin. He rested his chin on Kevin’s head as he held him. Of all the things that finally broke him, a hug from almost a total stranger after a failed attempt at a date was not what Kevin would’ve predicted.

”Why? Why did they have to kill him? He didn’t know anything and they did it anyway,” he sobbed.

”Because bad people do bad things because they’re told to. At least, that’s what I’ve seen,” Mingi replied. He carefully steered them to the couch and lied down, holding Kevin on top of him.

”Would you have done it?” Kevin asked.

”Killed someone who didn’t know anything? No,” Mingi replied.

”Even if you were told to?” Kevin continued.

”I know you said you don’t care who I work for, but I work for a man who has no issues killing his own employees for no reason. He lost his moral compass about 30 years ago and a lot of people are rightfully afraid of him. Ignoring the fact entirely I’m worth more alive than dead, I also know better than to kill someone who isn’t a threat. Sometimes that’s hard to tell from the top of a building through a rifle scope, but not always. I’m not a good person, but I’m also not a totally bad one either,” Mingi explained.

”No, you’re not,” Kevin agreed.

”You never really got to mourn him, did you?” Mingi asked.

”No,” Kevin shook his head, successfully smearing snot on Mingi’s shirt.

”How long has it been?” Mingi massaged the back of Kevin’s head. His long fingers felt soothing against his scalp.

”Two years, almost two and a half,” Kevin replied.

”I think it might be time to start. It’ll suck at first, letting yourself feel the hurt and the anger and the pain, but once you get through it then it won’t be so bad. At least, that’s my experience,” Mingi suggested.

“You lost someone?” Kevin propped his chin on Mingi’s chest.

“I did. Someone I loved very much. I did the same thing you did. I didn’t let myself mourn her loss for years. It sucked ass when I finally did. Hell, one morning I woke up feeling like I’d lost a fight because my body was experiencing the emotional pain. It ended up okay, though. It still hurts and always will, but at least now I can handle days like her birthday, our anniversary, or her death day without drinking for three days straight before and after. I visit her, bring her flowers, tell her about the parts of my life that don’t involve felonies, and promise to see her again on the next anniversary,” Mingi told him. His smile was a little sadder now.

”You said anniversary. Who was she?” Kevin asked.

”My wife,” Mingi replied.

#just fucking write 2k24 #the boyz fanfic #ateez fanfic #crossover ships #mafia au

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istumpysk · 1 year

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: The Spurned Suitor (Quentyn III) [Chapter 60]

"Let him [Beans] think what he wants, so long as he delivers the message," said Quentyn.

"He'll do that much. I'll wager you get your meeting too, if only so Rags can have Pretty Meris cut your liver out and fry it up with onions. We should be heeding Selmy. When Barristan the Bold tells you to run, a wise man laces up his boots. We should find a ship for Volantis whilst the port is still open."

It's not enough for him to die. I need his reputation destroyed as well.

+.+.+

Volantis, Quentyn thought. Then Lys, then home. Back the way I came, empty-handed. Three brave men dead, for what?

Let your father ask himself these questions.

Will Daenerys be making those same stops? Maybe.

+.+.+

His father would speak no word of rebuke, Quentyn knew, but the disappointment would be there in his eyes. His sister would be scornful, the Sand Snakes would mock him with smiles sharp as swords, and Lord Yronwood, his second father, who had sent his own son along to keep him safe …

It's not clear to me that he's wrong, which is unfortunate.

+.+.+

"It is still not too late to abandon this folly," Gerris said, as they made their way down a foetid alley toward the old spice market. The smell of piss was in the air, and they could hear the rumble of a corpse cart's iron-rimmed wheels off ahead. "Old Bill Bone used to say that Pretty Maris could stretch out a man's dying for a moon's turn. We lied to them, Quent. Used them to get us here, then went over to the Stormcrows."

"As we were commanded."

"Tatters never meant for us to do it for real, though," put in the big man. "His other boys, Ser Orson and Dick Straw, Hungerford, Will of the Woods, that lot, they're still down in some dungeon thanks to us. Old Rags can't have liked that much."

We talk about how insane attempting to tame a dragon is, but how about this?

The Tattered Prince's men are locked in dungeons because of Quentyn, and now Quentyn wants to meet with him after lying and deserting.

I swear to god this kid wants to die.

+.+.+

"No," Prince Quentyn said, "but he likes gold."

Gerris laughed. "A pity we have none. Do you trust this peace, Quent? I don't. Half the city is calling the dragonslayer a hero, and the other half spits blood at the mention of his name."

I'm confident these freedman will regret advocating for dragons.

+.+.+

"Harzoo," the big man said.

Quentyn frowned. "His name was Harghaz."

"Hizdahr, Humzum, Hagnag, what does it matter? I call them all Harzoo. He was no dragonslayer. All he did was get his arse roasted black and crispy."

"He was brave." Would I have the courage to face that monster with nothing but a spear?

Harghaz was brave.

Quentyn is foolish.

+.+.+

Gerris put a hand on Quentyn's shoulder. "Even if the queen returns, she'll still be married."

"Not if I give King Harzoo a little smack with my hammer," suggested the big man.

"Hizdahr," said Quentyn. "His name is Hizdahr."

"One kiss from my hammer and no one will care what his name was," said Arch.

They do not see. His friends had lost sight of his true purpose here. The road leads through her, not to her. Daenerys is the means to the prize, not the prize itself. "'The dragon has three heads,' she said to me. 'My marriage need not be the end of all your hopes,' she said. 'I know why you are here. For fire and blood.' I have Targaryen blood in me, you know that. I can trace my lineage back—"

He is entirely responsible for his own stupid decisions, but it's silly to pretend she had no influence.

+.+.+

"Fuck your lineage," said Gerris. "The dragons won't care about your blood, except maybe how it tastes. You cannot tame a dragon with a history lesson. They're monsters, not maesters. Quent, is this truly what you want to do?"

"This is what I have to do. For Dorne. For my father. For Cletus and Will and Maester Kedry."

"They're dead," said Gerris. "They won't care."

[...]

"No doubt. But that was not my question. Men's lives have meaning, not their deaths. I loved Will and Cletus too, but this will not bring them back to us. This is a mistake, Quent. You cannot trust in sellswords."

Gerris Drinkwater is a great character.

Barristan Selmy, wrong again.

If this one had been the prince, things might have gone elsewise, he could not help but think … but there was something a bit too pleasant about Drinkwater for his taste. False coin, the old knight thought. He had known such men before. - The Discarded Knight, ADWD

+.+.+

"They are men like any other men. They want gold, glory, power. That's all I am trusting in." That, and my own destiny. I am a prince of Dorne, and the blood of dragons is in my veins.

Maybe he's right? He does appear to suffer from Targaryen Delusion.

He's losing me.

+.+.+

At this hour the house was less than half full. A few of the patrons favored the Dornishmen with looks bored or hostile or curious. The rest were crowded around the pit at the far end of the room, where a pair of naked men were slashing at each other with knives whilst the watchers cheered them on.

I'm going to pretend underground pit fighting was happening the entire time it was banned. That tends to be what happens you outlaw things.

Side note, today I learned underground pit fighting also happens in Westeros.

Question (from yours truly) what the hell is with Biter? Is he just a bad guy or is he something more....

George treated us to a never before heard back story of Rorge and Biter.....Rorge ran a dog and bear fighting place in Flea Bottom. Biter was an orphan whom Rorge grabbed up and raised ferally to fight in the pits. (Link)

Bwah!

Barristan Selmy in shambles.

+.+.+

"My ragged raiment?" The Pentoshi gave a shrug. "A poor thing … yet those tatters fill my foes with fear, and on the battlefield the sight of my rags blowing in the wind emboldens my men more than any banner. And if I want to move unseen, I need only slip it off to become plain and unremarkable."

Including in case this becomes relevant later.

+.+.+

Then a door he had not seen before swung open, and an old woman emerged, a shriveled thing in a dark red tokar fringed with tiny golden skulls. Her skin was white as mare's milk, her hair so thin that he could see the scalp beneath. "Dorne," she said, "I be Zahrina. Purple Lotus. Go down here, you find them." She held the door and gestured them through.

Aren't golden skulls a Golden Company thing?

Zahrina tried to buy Tyrion and Jorah in a previous chapter. Is she important? Probably not.

+.+.+

He [The Tattered Prince] gestured at the bench across from him. "Sit. I understand you are a prince. Would that I had known. Will you drink? Zahrina offers food as well. Her bread is stale and her stew is unspeakable. Grease and salt, with a morsel or two of meat. Dog, she says, but I think rat is more likely. It will not kill you, though. I have found that it is only when the food is tempting that one must beware. Poisoners invariably choose the choicest dishes."

I'll keep that in mind for the future.

Daenerys wouldn't know locusts are delectable, but Hizdahr would.

Strong Belwas bellowed, "Locusts!" as he seized the bowl and began to crunch them by the handful.

"Those are very tasty," advised Hizdahr. "You ought to try a few yourself, my love. They are rolled in spice before the honey, so they are sweet and hot at once." - Daenerys IX, ADWD

+.+.+

"I am a prince of Dorne," said Quentyn. "I had a duty to my father and my people. There was a secret marriage pact."

"So I heard. And when the silver queen saw your scrap of parchment she fell into your arms, yes?"

"No," said Pretty Meris.

I have so much secondhand embarrassment right now.

+.+.+

"No? Oh, I recall. Your bride flew off on a dragon. Well, when she returns, do be sure to invite us to your nuptials. The men of the company would love to drink to your happiness, and I do love a Westerosi wedding. The bedding part especially, only … oh, wait …" He turned to Denzo D'han. "Denzo, I thought you told me that the dragon queen had married some Ghiscari."

"A Meereenese nobleman. Rich."

The Tattered Prince turned back to Quentyn. "Could that be true? Surely not. What of your marriage pact?"

"She laughed at him," said Pretty Meris.

Daenerys never laughed. The rest of Meereen might see him as an amusing curiosity, like the exiled Summer Islander King Robert used to keep at King's Landing, but the queen had always spoken to him gently. "We came too late," said Quentyn.

She did laugh, and none of the Dornishmen know what was said afterwards.

"Prince Doran." He sank back onto one knee. "Your Grace, I have the honor to be Quentyn Martell, a prince of Dorne and your most leal subject."

Dany laughed.

The Dornish prince flushed red, whilst her own court and counselors gave her puzzled looks. "Radiance?" said Skahaz Shavepate, in the Ghiscari tongue. "Why do you laugh?"

"They call him frog," she said, "and we have just learned why. In the Seven Kingdoms there are children's tales of frogs who turn into enchanted princes when kissed by their true love." Smiling at the Dornish knights, she switched back to the Common Tongue. "Tell me, Prince Quentyn, are you enchanted?" - Daenerys VII, ADWD

What she said isn't important, it's how it looks.

Quentyn is dead, it's Drinkwater and Yronwood who will tell Doran and/or Arianne what happened.

+.+.+

"Yurkhaz zo Yunzak was the man who hired you."

"He signed our contract on behalf of his city. Just so."

"Meereen and Yunkai have made peace. The siege is to be lifted, the armies disbanded. There will be no battle, no slaughter, no city to sack and plunder."

"Life is full of disappointments."

Over Barristan Selmy's dead body.

+.+.+

"How long do you think the Yunkishmen will want to continue paying wages to four free companies?"

The Tattered Prince took a sip of wine and said, "A vexing question. But this is the way of life for we men of the free companies. One war ends, another begins. Fortunately there is always someone fighting someone somewhere. Perhaps here. Even as we sit here drinking Bloodbeard is urging our Yunkish friends to present King Hizdahr with another head. Freedmen and slavers eye each other's necks and sharpen their knives, the Sons of the Harpy plot in their pyramids, the pale mare rides down slave and lord alike, our friends from the Yellow City gaze out to sea, and somewhere in the grasslands a dragon nibbles the tender flesh of Daenerys Targaryen. Who rules Meereen tonight? Who will rule it on the morrow?" The Pentoshi gave a shrug. "One thing I am certain of. Someone will have need of our swords."

"I have need of those swords. Dorne will hire you."

[...]

"I will pay you part when we reach Volantis, the rest when I am back in Sunspear. We brought gold with us when we set sail, but it would have been hard to conceal once we joined the company, so we gave it over to the banks. I can show you papers."

A very bad idea quickly getting worse.

+.+.+

The Tattered Prince finished his wine, turned the cup over, and set it down between them. "So. Let me see if I understand. A proven liar and oathbreaker wishes to contract with us and pay in promises. And for what services? I wonder. Are my Windblown to smash the Yunkai'i and sack the Yellow City? Defeat a Dothraki khalasar in the field? Escort you home to your father? Or will you be content if we deliver Queen Daenerys to your bed wet and willing? Tell me true, Prince Frog. What would you have of me and mine?"

"I need you to help me steal a dragon."

Caggo Corpsekiller chuckled. Pretty Meris curled her lip in a half-smile. Denzo D'han whistled.

The Tattered Prince only leaned back on his stool and said, "Double does not pay for dragons, princeling. Even a frog should know that much. Dragons come dear. And men who pay in promises should have at least the sense to promise more."

"If you want me to triple—"

"What I want," said the Tattered Prince, "is Pentos."

How is Dorne going to give you Pentos?

Sorry, I've hit a point where I don't remember a single thing that comes next. Is this contract still active?

That seems less than ideal.

Final thoughts:

Call me Boomer Barry, I think I'm ready to leave Meereen.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #the spurned suitor #quentyn iii

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hongjoongscafe · 2 years

Text

✧*̥˚ The Doll *̥˚✧

-ˋˏ [Part 2; Serieslist] ˎˊ

-ˋˏ In the mystery assignment ˎˊ

⚘ pairing: wizard!wooyoung×doll!reader (Jihyun)

⚘ genre: fluff, angst, smut, fantasy AU.

⚘ summary: his loneliness made him desperate for a partner.

⚘ warnings: alcohol consumption

⚘ word count: 2.4k+

⚘ note: AU suggestion and the picture edit by @nanibecute . Thank you so much 💓

⚘ Masterpost

⚘ DO NOT REPOST, PLZ

"I love going to wax statue museums. It's like, I am looking at real people," Wooyoung's date, Nari, said as they looked at beautiful wax statues. "They can't talk or do anything. Even the worst person's statue is clear of any sins. You can make them however you want. It's fascinating. Don't you think so?"

Wooyoung looked around and admired the statues as much. "True. I never thought that way. Honestly, I have never been to a wax museum before so it is all new and gorgeous to me."

"Really? I'm glad that we came here then," she smiled.

"Me too," he politely smiled back. "They are gorgeous.

"Anyhow, I heard you are a wizard?"

"Yeah, you heard it right."

"Wow… so that's true?" She looked at him with a soft expression. "You guys are incredibly talented."

"Thank you," he chuckled.

They proceeded to explore the museum and talked about the basics. The day was nice and they enjoyed the company of each other. Wooyoung liked it.

Maybe this was going to work out…

As time passed, they both sat down in a restaurant for the lunch they talked about before. It was going too well and the hopes were rising for him. He felt like he was finally gonna get what he was craving. San and Seonghwa were both right. He was being whiny for no reason.

The lunch was nice as expected. Wooyoung wondered how the candlelight dinner would feel like with Nari under the beautiful twinkling light. Will she be the moon or another star?

"Wooyoung?" He was pulled out of his thoughts by her voice.

"Yeah?" He sat straighter.

"You are an incredible guy," she began, "I'm so thankful that I got to hang out with you. I can only imagine how lucky that girl would be who will get to be with you in your deepest parts."

Oh no, no.

"But I can't imagine myself there, you know? I-I only came here because Cherry asked me to. I already met someone about a month ago… my family and friends don't know about it just yet. And I wanna keep it that way for a while. I hope you understand. Trust me, you are a great guy and I'm sure that many great women will die to even shake hands with you," she took a deep breath and slumped against the chair. "It's just– I can't say no to her and I can't tell her about the relationship I am in. I hope I'm clear here. It's me and not you…"

Maybe it won't work out…

Wooyoung let out a tiny humorless laugh. He wasn't angry instead, he appreciated her for being true to her relationship and not playing both ways.

"I understand. Trust me, I do… You don't have to explain yourself, we have only met once... Nothing happens in this much time," a lot happens in this much time. His delusional self was already seeing them with two little kids and four dogs around them. "And don't worry, I won't tell them anything."

Nari smiled with gratitude. They both paid their half of the bill and started moving towards the train station. The sun started setting but the sky was still nice and bright. The beautiful yellow and orange were decorating it perfectly. The chirping of the birds who were returning to their nests was still melodious. The kids were running around and playing. The snack stalls were filled with people.

The world was filled with colors and laughter. Love. There were many people around. But Wooyoung felt like he was walking alone. Maybe for a second, he thought he found someone but it was crushed the next moment. He felt like he was walking away from everyone. The beautiful lady next to him was just a blurred-moving image.

The path of soil felt like thorns under his shoes-clad feet. The cool breeze felt like hot turmoil. His beating heart felt heavier and heavier as time passed. His throat tightened up—

"Thank you for today," Nari bowed. "Hopefully when we meet next time, you are with a beautiful lady love… my best wishes to you."

Wooyoung bowed, "thank you for being true. And I appreciate your wishes," with that she went inside the coach.

Sighing, he stepped back and moved back into the city. He wasn't sure where his feet were taking him but he moved nonetheless. He was tired of not appreciating what he had with him and around him. But was it too much to ask for love? He wasn't desperate for physical touch but he wanted the mental touch. He just wanted to sit with one person he loved and who loved back the same if not more and talk for hours.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

"Oh, you are here?" San's voice brought Wooyoung out of his stance. He didn't realize that he walked at San's or the fact that it was dark outside. He was too consumed in his thoughts. "How did it go?"

Wooyoung's eyes filled with tears. The painful choking sound came out of his throat as he ran into his best friend's open arms.

San managed to bring his friend inside his house where Mary was looking at Wooyoung with pity. They didn't need verbal confirmation of what happened. But they didn't know that this time it was the opposite of the situation. Oh, this was gonna be a hard one.

"It's alright, you will find someone," San caressed Wooyoung's head with care. "Was she not good? Or just didn't make you feel like you desire?"

"I- I, she was really good," he choked.

"Then what happened?" San was shocked at his statement. It has always been like 'just not that,' or 'still didn't feel a thing.'

Before he could reveal Nari's secret, he changed his statement. "Just didn't click," he tightly closed his eyes and tried not to cry harder. He wasn't going to throw her on the road, he knew well what she meant.

"I'm so sorry…" San sighed and pulled him closer. He gestured for Mary to bring some water for the crying figure in his arms.

"Wooyoungie?" Mary sat next to them. She patted his shoulder and handed him the glass full of water. "Don't lose hope that easily. Life is like a show of puppets, instead of humans, situations play us. Just wait longer."

Nobody could understand Mary's words more than Wooyoung. Life was indeed a show of puppets that were handled by situations. And promising situations don't come easily. It's life. As small as it is, the situation makes it seem bigger than it is. Just like now when Wooyoung is having trouble feeling love and affection, life seems to be hanging on a cliff for him.

"I will hang on for as long as I can…" he whispered.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Wooyoung was cooking when his magic wand glowed, meaning, someone sent him a message through magic.

He quickly picked his wand and whooshed it in the air as a tiny, almost the size of Wooyoung's face, purple-ish pink fog ball appeared. It had sparkly black holes in place of eyes and a mouth. In the world of Wizards, it is called the hocus-pocus pigeon. Every Wizard had one of their own and Wooyoung's hocus-pocus pigeon was called The Hobble-Bobble.

"Wizard Wooyoung!" The Hobble-Bobble joyed. "It's been so long! How are you?" The cute fog ball followed Wooyoung to the kitchen.

"Hobble-Bobble, I don't have time. Tell me the message, please."

"Oh, dear-y! Why does my Wizard sound so gloomy," the Hobble-Bobble cried.

"Nothing that should concern you, Hobble," Wooyoung sighed and turned off the stove. He wanted to make something without using his magic. Truly, he just wanted to consume himself with some work so the thoughts of his date earlier wouldn't pop up again… for at least now.

He picked two sets of cutlery and plates and bowls and served some food, knowing very well that the Hobble-Bobble loved food.

"Wizard!" The fog ball's cute thin voice whined, "You know everything related to you is concerning to me. I worry for you, my master," he floated close to Wooyoung. "You never call me anymore… so I took the first chance to come here. I want to know what's going on."

"Hobble-Bobble… I'm sorry that I have been neglecting you so much," he held the soft fog ball close to his face. "But it's not intentional, okay? I'm just having a hard time, I'll be back to normal. Don't worry about me. And you can come here whenever you want. You know I love you, right?" Hobble-Bobble was loud and annoying at times but he was Wooyoung's best pal. They spent a lot of time together since he got the fog ball from the upper highs. This little ball of fluff brought many weird but happy memories.

"I know," he mumbled, "but I miss you Wizzi. Tubby-Toodle and his Wizzi are on vacation right now… I'm not asking for that but I want to spend time here. I want you to be happy too…" his tiny hands appeared as he held Wooyoung's cheeks, "I love you too, Wizzi."

Wooyoung giggled heartily and hugged the little ball of love close to his chest. "What's the message?"

"It's from Wizard Hanbin," he looked up at his eyes.

"Really? What is it?" Wooyoung sat properly.

"Your next assignment! The mystery assignment!" Hobble-Bobble excitedly exclaimed.

"Mystery assignment?" Wizard Hanbin did talk about some mystery assignment but he didn't know it would be this soon.

"Yes! In my opinion, this is the most interesting so far. Before I proceed, I wanna tell you that this mystery assignment is unique and everyone gets a different task," he informed.

"Oh, why is this so unique, and why does everyone get a different task?" Wooyoung interrogated.

"Well, this will make him aware of your capabilities. He always keeps an eye on everyone, especially those who go to his seminars and classes. You are one of those. To be completely honest, yours is the most unique one. I have never seen him give this assignment to anyone. And the fact that this is exclusive, is because no one cheats and takes the help of other Wizards. You can use books and experience to complete the assignment otherwise you will face consequences. There is an option for you to take a step back… but it will backfire on you later on. You know, they will call you useless… Please don't do that! Take the chance and show everyone that you are capable of bigger things," the fog ball started crying hysterically which made Wooyoung laugh.

"Oh, Hobble-Bobble! My dear baby," he cradled him again, "I won't step back. But tell me the main assignment, no?"

The Hobble-Bobble sparkled with joy as it floated above Wooyoung, "ah, it's so fun! I can't wait for you to complete it! I know you will do your best!" He settled in the seat in front of Wooyoung where his plate was ready. "So, the task is to turn something non-living into a living thing."

Wooyoung frowned. This was not something unique or new. He has done that many times. The mop he sometimes brings to life when he is too lazy or tired to mop. His pen, when he is too busy to write down the notes. Or that one time he read Beauty and the Beast so he turned the tea set, candles, and clock into one like the story.

"That, that's not unique," Wooyoung whined. "Does he think I can't do anything!?"

The Hobble-Bobble giggled, "no, that's not it. You are supposed to turn something into a talking and breathing thing. And you have to make it on your own."

"Ahhh," Wooyoung thought about it.

"You have to use your magic in the right places. You get to keep the project but you have to show it to him once ready… Make sure it is meaningful to you. Otherwise, there is a special option to change it too. Then you can switch the projects with other Wizards if you want," the fog ball said.

"That's interesting," he hummed.

"Also, I will be around more!" He wiggled. His tiny fog hands were picking some food. Oh, he was the cutest thing Wooyoung ever faced.

"Hobble-Bobble, don't make this harder," Wooyoung joked and laughed when Hobble-Bobble huffed and stuffed his tiny face with the rest of the food. "I would love to have you around me."

"You better do it! I might be the best help!" His black sparkly eyes sparkled more. "Moreover, I would love to spend more time."

"Yeah?" The fog ball cutely nodded.

Wooyoung adored the little ball of fluffiness a lot. Wizard Hanbin granted him this pretty thing about seven years ago. Now, they have been the best. They always pulled each other's legs but stood together in the lowest and the highest. He remembers when Wizard Hanbin threatened him that he would take the Hobble-Bobble away from him because he was careless while using magic. But Wooyoung worked harder and cried twice as much to convince him to not take his tiny source of happiness away.

In the fire of love, he forgot Hobble-Bobble. Now that he was close, he realized how much he ignored him and it left the bitter taste of guilt behind. The fog ball was a ball of sunshine and happiness, the new rays of hope. His pretty thin voice was medicine for Wooyoung's anxiety. There have been many occasions where this pretty little thing made Wooyoung get through the toughest part. And the best thing was that Hobble-Wobble was only Wooyoung's and no one else's. Only he could enjoy his company to the fullest.

Everyone could see him or take him but he only chose Wooyoung. He remembers Hobble-Bobble's exact words.

"Wooyoungie Wizzi! I love people who are different from the common."

Wooyoung still doesn't know what he meant by that but he was happy that he thought however he did because, in the end, Hobble-Bobble came to Wooyoung and brought some light with him.

"I hope you find a partner sooner, Wizzi. I can't see you like this. I want you to be happy…" Hobble-Bobble muttered.

Wooyoung's heart clenched and a few tears dripped out of his eyes, "maybe I don't deserve anyone…"

"Why? Why would you say that!?" He got angry. "You are the best and deserve the best… end of discussion!" He floated closer, "but I will say one last thing before going for now… Use your task intelligently," he winked and disappeared back into the wand.

Wooyoung pouted, "at least you could have hugged me before going…"

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

⚘ Sanaa's note:

These days I feel like deleting my blog, tbh.

The behavior of all the characters is visualized.

⚘ Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @jhmylove @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @8tinytings @mirror-juliet @woo-stars

*lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist*

Have a nice day/night💓

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naoa-ao3 · 7 months

Text

Waking Fears

27 FEBRUARY 1953

The year opens with a terrible storm.

Both sides of the English Channel are devastated, over three hundred dead and Mary Anne is nearly seven months pregnant now.

Thomas Constantine had never had much use for religion though people had suggested praying a time or two in his life. He feared God to some degree but the big man had never seemed to have much to do with him and so in return he had never tried to have much to do with him either.

One of eight kids. . . a father dead in the Great War. . . he was a child of the depression, an orphan of the war who had been raised by a single mother and seen her die young.

He had in some ways hoped he could do right by his wife but life hadn't given him the disposition needed for that kind of thing.

Thomas who was the son of dead Bill and Alice and was the father of Cheryl. Husband to Marry Ann.

He had lost an arm since becoming those things and work didn't come easy for a man made cripple. His temper didn't help either and his drinking just made it worse.

Still, he was here and perhaps because of all of this he had never had much time for God. If there was a God He didn't hear prayers. . . Probably didn't even listen to them.

If he did he did it for a laugh.

Everyone praying and begging and hoping down on earth.

He could see God now laughing at them.

That was why he didn't pray.

He wasn't anyone's fool. Not even God's.

And now Marry Anne was expecting again.

Twins this time only there were problems and not just with her health. With their wallets too. They already had Cheryl and maybe one baby they could handle but two? He just couldn't get the work for it.

He'd tried to get her an abortion.

She hadn't wanted it but he'd made her do it anyway only it hadn't taken.

The blasted things kept growing inside of her.

Marry Anne said she didn't feel well sometimes now and he knew they were eating at her. They were taking from her daily and he hated them somehow.

He feared them.

When Marry Anne lay beside him in bed he dreamed of them. Dreamed of some son who would come from his wife and grow up to bash his brains in.

He dreamed that the twins in all their awful alikeness would unite against him, they'd beat him when he was helpless and old and tear his body apart. They'd rob him of his vitality and youth, take his home from him and his life. . .

He hadn't had these fears with Cheryl.

Girls were easier though. They were their mothers' problem. Boys. . . he'd been a boy. He'd had seven brothers at one point. Seven brothers to fight it out with. He knew boys. He'd been a boy. You couldn't trust boys.

Whatever was growing in Marry Anne and he didn't know if it was a boy or a girl- he knew it was bad.

The twins would be bad.

Some part of him knew the drink wasn't helping him. Drinking himself stupid every night while his wife and daughter watched wasn't helping and it wasn't making the dreams any better but they were too much for any man to bare without a spot of liquor. No one could ask that of him.

The things grew in his wife at night while he lay in bed next to her.

They were going to kill them all.

The things he was so afraid of taking her from him.

In his dreams they made her stop loving him.

In his dreams one of them was worse than the other and he made his brother suffer. That one was the one he hated the most.

They were struggling inside of her yet when he awoke he was never able to explain just exactly how.

These nightmares plagued him constantly and in his dreams they were always boys.

A boy.

He didn't want boys.

Cheryl was enough trouble. Always asking questions, always trying to have opinions but she was a girl and girls were easy. Boys were bad. Boys couldn't be trusted. They had spit in their bones and it made them ornery and mean.

His own brothers had been like that.

He considered himself the reasonable sibling. In a long line of embarrassments and grifters he had gotten out. His brothers for the most part had too but not little Jack. Little Jack had grown up like uncle Charles. Never holding down a job, always on the move, always showing up when there was trouble.

A fucking joke his uncle had survived the war and his father hadn't.

A belated act of fratricide.

Twins never did well in his family.

Twins killed each other in his family and he knows it's always the worst one that survives. Whatever comes out of Mary Anne will be so bad. He can already feel it. It's going to tear the world apart and do it all on the dole.

It's going to wreck him, take his home and life. . . it'll turn Cheryl and Mary Anne against him and make everyone hate him.

Sometimes he wants to beat it out of Mary Anne.

This parasite that's killing her.

It and it's twin.

Too much family history and each night he lays next to her and them and it and thinks about the thing that's going to invade his home.

He tries not to put too much stock into the family. Tries not to think about all of the other Constantines that have come before and all of the things they did. His generation- his generation minus Jack who's dead now anyway- they're supposed to be free of this shit. Roy and Harry are normal just like him. His sister is normal and has a normal life.

He doesn't want this thing to be born.

When it comes it'll put the family right back where it was.

Maybe he should kill it before it takes it's first breath but in the end he's just a man. He doesn't think he can kill a baby.

He doesn't think he can let the thing put it's blood on his hands like that.

God he's so afraid.

He's so utterly afraid of this thing.

These twins.

His family has a bad history with twins and as he holds the pillow over his head and tries to still the shaking in his heart and limbs he knows that whichever twin comes out of Mary Anne will kill him.

The child will eat him alive, beat him bloody and slit his throat.

She's seven months pregnant now and the abortion didn't take.

Sweet rationing had ended earlier that month and by the time the baby is born they'll be getting ready for a coronation.

Thomas can't see any of that though, not the storm or the slow end of rationing that had become so much a part of all their lives.

Little Cheryl has never lived in a world without it.

This new baby. . . what will hold it back?

He shakes when he thinks of it because he knows. It's going to be his end. He can't even tell Mary Anne what he's afraid of. If he does she'll just think he's mad. She'll look at him in fear and listen to the things in her belly as they whisper lies about him.

The wretched umbilical cord that links her life to theirs's.

He can barely take it.

He only has one arm and no work and so he lays alone next to her and the things inside of her and every night until May tenth he'll lay there sweating and dreaming and fearing and thinking of all the nasty things the things inside of her will grow up to do.

They'll eat him alive and the real pity of it is, is that it's just a baby and it hasn't done anything. It hasn't even been born yet. Thomas can't see that though. All he see's is the dark barrel of a gun- no of a canon aiming straight for him.

Come nine months and the sparkling, little fuse will blow and everything will change.

In just over a year there will be no more rationing and no more Mary Anne and everything Thomas has ever feared and every reason he's never prayed will be a screaming bundle of hate in his house.

He lays and waits for this, fear and anxiety and misery tearing his chest apart as his wife sleeps next to him, her belly full of something awful.

He knows how twins work in his family and it never works well. Whatever is in her will be bad and he can't see it any other way.

Maybe because of this there won't be another way. Maybe it's the curse or maybe it's just them or it's in the blood or maybe even because the year started off with a horrible storm but everything is fucked under his little roof and in his little room next to his wife and the feeding things inside of her.

Thomas spends his nights paralyzed in fear, waiting for the world to end.

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badasseryandriversong · 2 years

Text

well this turned into a novel... i have this ongoing idea where Dr. Erskine intended to made two super soldiers to start instead of one; a perfect team because after all, none should be handling a war alone. and when he chooses Steve, he asks Steve to choose who the other person will be because it needs to be someone he can work with well.

Steve wants to pick Bucky but he doesn’t know where the 107th is right now, let alone if they could pull Barnes from the field on such short notice. so he bides his time and keep training and even though he’s wheezing ten minutes into every drill he’s keeping his eyes open for someone who might fit the bill. but these men are brutes. they’re shallow and slobbish and not even half of the kind of guy Steve would even consider. he needs someone who at the very least had respect for other people, someone who can see the bigger picture, someone who can be trusted to do the right thing even at a personal cost.

it hits him the night before the procedure that agent Carter is all of those things and more. hell, Hodge hasn’t been able to meet her eyes since she punched the lights out of him. she’s strong, competent, and one of the only people who hasn’t made some stupid comment about him being chosen for this project over other candidates. Steve prepares a speech for Erskine, a verbal essay of a hundred reasons why she was a good choice because he’s sure the doctor will protest on the grounds that Carter is, in fact, a woman. But Erskine doesn’t question Steve for a second and pats him on the shoulder and smiles.

Peggy wakes up to Steve and Erskine banging on her barracks door at one in the bloody morning and honestly don’t you need to be sleeping because you’re supposed to be making history tomorrow and then they propose the idea to her and she suddenly understands why this couldn’t wait. she’s hesitant to accept right away. her supervising position doesn’t exactly leave room for other endeavors and certainly Phillips hasn’t agreed to this? Flynn? there would be riots and people could be fired over this and you could loose everything you’ve worked for. but Erskine is sure because Steve is sure and he’s looking at her with those big eyes, willing to bet absolutely everything on this. on her.

so she agrees and they don’t tell another soul who Steve’s choice is because there’s already regrets about the skinny kid from Brooklyn; who knows how they’d react to a woman, not even an American. the backlash would be catastrophic. the backlash is catastrophic the moment Peggy starts unbuttoning her shirt to get into the second vita-ray chamber and everyone realizes with horror what’s happening. the senators and generals and international liaisons who’d all come to watch are red in the face and screaming profanities and Carter you’d better get your ass out of there before I deport you. a few dedicated colonels try to push past and grab Erskine and they try to grab Stark, but Howard has already pressed the right buttons (and if Peggy’s not mistaken is laughing like a mad man all the way) and when the lights die down and the machines stops whirring and the two very sweaty but very enhanced individuals nearly fall to the floor coming out of the tanks, the room is silent.

her status is ripped away. she and Steve spend ten days days locked in the labs getting poked and prodded in every way imaginable (well, almost every way because Peggy cracks a window with the visiting doctor’s face when he starts suggesting pelvic exams). Steve apologizes to her a hundred times a day. he never wanted to take away her position that she worked so hard to get. she assures his she doesn’t hold him responsible for having faith and please stop saying sorry its not going to change anything. the world is not as good natured as he is; a lesson she’s learned many times over. she learns it again when she hears what the men have to say about her new physique when they think she can’t hear-- she can hear a pin drop in a crowded room now, but no one seems to remember that when they were discussing her new found hight and how can Rogers stand being near a freak dame like that? she not even a girl anymore, I bet.

they send Steve off: a dancing monkey in their political circus. they try to sweep her under the rug because god forbid someone find out their biggest scientific failure was due to a woman (not the axis agent who had killed Erskine which was apparently deemed unavoidable) they have no idea how to keep her busy but they sure as hell aren’t letting her out of their sights, even when they’re all relocated to Europe. she has access to the gyms and is allowed to sit in on some meetings, but strictly instructed to stay on the campus, keep to herself, and to report her whereabouts to Flynn, who is unfortunately in-charge of her case. weapons grade moron.

she could run. it would be so easy to just walk out the front gates and never come back, but she’s not a deserter. besides, Steve and Erskine (god rest his soul) are both having their names dragged through the mud. if she leaves, it will just be another mark of failure for this project, another reason to scold Steve for believing in her. no, the only way forward, the only way to make a difference is to convince Flynn to get off his damn high horse and let her do something useful but he already knows what she can do. he knows she can run over ten miles on a sprint without slowing. he knows she can jump onto ledges twenty feet above her head-- 50 feet if she gets a running start. Erskine would have been so proud. (she wonders if Steve has had the chance to test his abilities between USO shows) maybe it’s not enough to convince Flynn she belongs on the field, but it certainly catches the attention of others.

it starts in the mornings. the recruits are supposed to do certain warm ups everyday and Peggy is not supposed to drill the soldiers anymore, but that doesn’t mean she’s forgotten the routine. she wakes long before the sun rises and goes through the warm ups herself, free of the stares anyone might give her otherwise. she ends it with a run and is usually back in her quarters before the bugle boy plays his first notes. somewhere in the long months since the serum and since she’s started this early morning routine, people start watching her. she thinks nothing of it at first because it’s just one young private who she assumes can’t sleep. but then he brings a friend and that friend brings a friend and within a few weeks practically the whole company gets up early just to watch her expertly blaze through the obstacle courses they all still struggle with.

it’s uncomfortable at first because they’re all so silent. she’s almost tempted to change her routine and avoid the morning crowd until one of her audience gets the strange notion to start running with her. she’s not sure what to make of it as the boy sprints as hard as he can to keep pace with her, which works for about seven seconds before he falls behind. in the following days more brave soldiers try to jump into her morning exercises, some in the obstacle course and some on the run. not a single one of them can hold a candle to her skill, but there’s a strange camaraderie that blooms from the competition. no one curses her for being better. they pat each other on the back and laugh and regard her with an air of wonder. they start waving to her during the day like an old pal. freak dame starts to get replaced with new names. they call her Sargent Speed, Agent English, Miss Union Jack (really?), and Captain Carter. and the boys listen to their captain. in fact she’s the only one who these snot-nosed privates seem to listen to despite rank. Flynn hates it.

Officer Philips comes around once a month to check up on her. he’s got a soft spot for her, which she’s 100% certain of when he ‘lets slip’ that Steve will be visiting the 107th. Flynn tells her to stay put because her place is here at the 110th and they’re stationed thirty miles away where would you even get the means to get yourself over there but of course she does not stay put not and finds Steve back stage after he’s been properly chewed out by the crowd. they don’t have much time to catch up before the news about Barnes comes to light and Steve is practically packing his bags right then and there. but Peggy is more sensible about it. she gets the boys (her Morning Stars as she’s decided to call them) to cover for them as they sneak out that night. she convinces Stark to steal a plane and Steve, bless him, still finds himself worried about her. it’s all ‘you didn’t have to do this’ and ‘i’m not asking you to risk your life’ but damn him if she isn’t seeing this through to the end. Barnes is his friend and Steve is hers and this is exactly the sort of thing that Erskine had intended for them to be doing in the first place. being a team.

and as it turns out they are a spectacular team. they meet each other step for step, perfectly in sync as if they are extensions of each other. when she goes high he goes low. when he covers with that flimsy stage prop of a shield, she aims to kill. between the two of them they get more intel in one night than other companies have done in months. they burn the place to the ground and not a single soldier from their side is left behind. and when they march into camp some days later its nothing but happy screams and cheers (except for Flynn and a few officers) but Phillips finally has enough reason to take control of the case again so Peggy gets moved to the 107th and she and Steve get promoted to co-captains: captain America and captain...? they want to call her captain Britain, but Peggy hates it because she’s fighting against nationalism and Carter is just fine a name and she will absolutely not be dressing up in union jack memorabilia thank you very much. she does get a new uniform but luckily its all blue and nothing flashy. it’s Peggy’s idea to fit Steve with a better shield and Howard refuses to let them go until Peggy also chooses a signature thing and she picks a sword just so he’ll shut up (and maybe because there’s something poetic about the shield/sword dynamic but she won’t tell anyone that)

it’s just as well that Steve can’t escape the costume as he becomes the face of the war. all the posters and news articles and that time someone lets a camera crew follow them for a week--its all focused on him. she’s never mentioned in the papers and any shots of her from that movie are cut (except for her picture tucked in Steve’s compass, which she doesn’t know because who has time for the cinema when there’s a war on) Steve hates that she doesn’t get an ounce of credit and she assures him that she doesn’t mind because none of this is about credit and besides the only person who i’d want to know the truth is already fighting by my side. but even hidden from the public eye, Philips has angry letters and phone calls pouring in by the day because women aren’t captains but not one lawyer can touch him because his captains are successfully demolishing hydra bases faster than anything any one has ever seen. (Peggy has grown attached to the sword by then.)

and there are betting pools between the Howling Commandos and the Morning Stars about getting Steve and Peggy together. they play stupid pranks that end with the captains flush together and dangling by their feet, or switching their packs and making them interact at every chance, and one notable evening when oops they didn’t pack enough tents someone is going to have to share (which back fires when Peggy gets her own tent and Steve shares with Pinky.) Dugan even fakes a grievous injury and his ‘last request’ is for them to finally kiss each other which is how they realize he’s faking it but also how they realize their friends are making these stupid bets. it is stupid right? Peggy says as much, that Steve can do much better with a nice American girl at home who won’t break the fine china by gripping too hard. and Steve shrugs and admits that he never wanted a partner who thought she had to stay at home and serve him and before she can stop herself, she asks him what he imagines this hypothetical partner to be like and Steve describes with such affection a woman who knows her worth, who is strong and confident and doesn’t take shit from anyone, who knows she’s an equal and nothing less, and all the while he talks he is starting at his open compass.

I have a couple ideas of how the story could go from there but i can’t really decide so pick your own ending i guess? please feel free to have ideas with me

it could go like it does in the movie: they ‘loose’ Bucky and Peggy is on the airship when it goes down and in 70 years agents will find the frozen pair wrapped in each other’s arms trying to protect each other until the end. (agent Coulson can hardly contain himself with how hard he ships them)

or Steve is the one who is falls off the train and Peggy is forced to go more public as she takes up his shield mantle and fights with nothing left to loose, crashing the plane alone and leaving room for a wintersoldier!steve arc. (Bucky would found shield in this case).

or Peggy falls off the train and she gets the winter soldier arc and Steve dies all over again when he tries to tell future historians of the first female captain and super soldier but they don’t believe him (at least until later when he hunts down the paper evidence because damn it Peggy is going to be remembered they way he remembers her)

or maybe they’re both on the Valkyrie, but one of them falls out after the tesseract. they both freeze and they both think the other is dead when they’re thawed out in the future. maybe Steve and Peggy are found Separately, one by SHEILD and one by Hydra or some less friendly organization.

#peggy carter #steve rogers #captain america #captain carter #steggy #lmao this turned into a whole fanfic #feel free to flesh out this story is anyone wants to #or if stucky stans want to reimagine this with bucky thats cool #steve is our collective boyfriend we can share #im begging a better writer than me to make this fic a reality

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underqualified-human · 2 years

Text

Blush

Request: Heyyy! How are you? I was wondering if I can request a one shot? A one shot of Saitama x Female Reader where they are roommates(and childhood friends) and one night they are just chilling in the main room. Then Saitama notices the reader have an exposed shoulder or something and just randomly kisses it. This makes the reader very flustered. Saitama likes the reaction and just keeps doing it. You can change or add whatever, I’m 100% okay with that! No worries if you’d like to not write it. If you do, thank you so much!

A/N: Wow, I think this is my first one shot request so I’m kinda excited about this. Sorry, this took so long, exams suck. Thanks so much, I added some extra details.

Wrote some of it during a heat-wave lol.

Fandom: One Punch Man

Warnings: Popsicle biting, some dirty jokes (?), no beta we die like my serotonin, written at like 10 pm,

Word Count: 445

Pronouns: She/her

┌─────── ∘°∘♡∘°∘ ───────┐

You had been friends with Saitama since the beginning of middle school, you had supported him when he got his apartment and had been with him when he started his training to become a hero.

You two started dating sometime after his training started, you tried your best to endure his no air-conditioning rule, but sometimes you wanted nothing more than to just turn on the air-conditioner. Usually though, during the winter you could huddle under a cluster of blankets or wrap yourself in a blanket cocoon.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have as many options for cooling off during the summer. All you could really do at this point was wear as little clothing as possible, mostly tank tops and shorts (sometimes skirts). Another option was taking cold baths or showers, which did tend to up the water bill so it was used sparingly.

Sadly, that time of year finally came around and so now here you were, sitting on the living room floor wearing a tank-top and shorts, both just barely covering everything.

The T.V was playing in the background as you were eating a chocolate popsicle.

You groaned, “I wish you’d just let me turn the AC Sai.”

Saitama, who had been on the balcony, walked back inside, “I mean you could always just take off your shirt like me.”

You took a bite of your popsicle and replied, “Of course you’d suggest that you perv.”

He only chuckled and sat next to on the floor looking at the T.V, you continued to eat your ice cream and started to doze off.

Because of this, you didn’t notice Saitama inching closer to you, to the point where his face was almost right next to yours.

You squeaked when you noticed how close you both had gotten.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked you moving even closer, now your face was even warmer than before and for a completely different reason.

“Uh, yes.” you blurted out.

He moved his head lower and placed a kiss on your shoulder, and again your face somehow felt even warmer than before.

At this point, you felt as if you were going to have a heatstroke.

He suddenly started to kiss your collar bone, then your neck, and finally started kissing under your jaw. It has started to tickle, at this point you were laughing like a mad-woman.

“S-stop it Sai!” you started to laugh again.

“You’re just too adorable, I can’t handle it.” despite his word he did stop kissing you. He also decided to pull you into his lap.

“Eww, your sweaty!”

“Sorry love.” He placed a kiss against your forehead while you both giggled.

└─────── °∘∘♡∘∘° ───────┘

Tags: @snowflakeanimelover

#one punch man x reader #one punch man #x reader #saitama x reader #saitama #aries writing #opm x reader #opm saitama

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tommyspeakycap · 3 years

Text

Cheeky

jack grealish x reader

prompt request; you're talking on the phone and your lover quietly comes up behind you, wraps their arms around you, and starts gently kissing your neck. you begin to lose focus on your phone call as you concentrate on not making any noise.

its a little bit smutty - 18+

Jack likes to think he's a fairly patient man. He kind of has to be. If he gets any more than irked when his team are down a goal then he'd lose his head a little and they certainly wouldn't make up that goal if he couldn't keep his cool. It wasn't something he was born with so much as something that was trained into him through time and good coaching from his youth days through to now, as captain.

His patience with you is tenfold. That man grew up with three women in his life. It felt like half of all his dad ever said was "Just be patient Jack, the girls aren't ready yet." when he was young, bouncing on his heels at the door desperately waiting to go out with his family and his mother could more often than not be heard saying "Patience is a virtue, Jack." So he liked to think it was something he was relatively good at when it came to both his game and his girlfriend. Though you might inclined to suggest a little bit differently.

Today had been one of those days where he got to have a lie in, eyes softly shut, chest rising and falling rhythmically with his hair strewn out in all angles well into the early hours of the afternoon. His sleep was very satisfying and the long lie much needed, but he would have preferred to have woken up with you still there next to him when his eyes finally peeled open to an empty bed.

You had gone out, as you told in a text message sent to his phone half an hour ago knowing he would wake up and see it. When he texted back to ask where, he didn't get a response until you walked through the door again with a coffee for him and two muffins in a brown bag. You'd gone out for brunch with a friend thinking that you'd be back before he woke up but she had talked for longer than you anticipated and then you got stuck in the afternoon traffic. The muffin and the coffee were your way of saying sorry you weren't there when he woke and served as the perfect temporary fix for his grumbling belly.

A lot of the rest of your day was spent working, which pissed you off to no end. The one day Jack had to spend, you of course could not escape university for. "Last two weeks and then I'm all yours," you'd assured him, "Well, 'till I can get a job and work for the rest of my life to pay off those stupid loans. Lovely." You had a bit of a habit of being a bit less optimistic when you were stressed and Jack could very well see that was the case today. He knew you'd enjoyed uni, but you and every other student in the world would hate that last few weeks with the scramble to submit projects and clean up shop before graduation.

"I told you not to take out loans, baby," He had cooed earlier in the day as he stood behind your desk in one of the spare rooms, messaging your shoulders, "I have plenty for the two of us, you know it."

His words were sweet, genuinely. Muffled by your hair as he pressed his lips down onto the crown of your head. But you laugh softly at him with a shake of your head. "Don't start with that, Grealish."

He had laughed at your retort and left you alone to work again until dinner which he of course did not make because all that Jack can make is pot noodles or toast and cheese. Neither of those things had tickled either of your fancies, so it was takeaway delivered straight to the door that had you all but floating down the stairs when the smell wafted up.

Jack knew what he had in mind for after dinner. Something that both he and you would equally enjoy that would be very de-stressing for you too. That very enjoyable thing did not include you being on a three way messenger call with two of your closest friends from uni gossiping and talking about coursework while you finished wiping up the kitchen.

That's where Jack's patience appeared to come into play once more.

One might say he had been incredibly patient. He waited all day without trying to bother or pester you while you were working like he usually might and then he waited through dinner, waiting with the TV paused when you promised you'd only be five minutes wiping down the kitchen counters and doing the dishes.

And then he heard that god forsaken phone ring and his head tipped back onto the back of the couch with a silent groan. Then he waited another short while listening to you on the phone, not much involved in the conversational aspect than you were the reacting to the story.

The sight of you made him groan again when he walked into the kitchen after hearing a few moments of silence on your end, thinking that you might've finished the phone call. He was dead wrong, you were still stood with the phone help up to your ear as you looked out the kitchen window into the garden in apparent thought. You stop Jack walking up behind you in the reflection of the window.

He wraps his arms around your waist slowly, resting his chin on your shoulder with his head against yours. You lay the phone down on the counter with your friend continuing to tell the story about her boyfriend while you turned your head to look at your own pouting man. "Sorry baby," you coo softly, "Her and Will got into this messy fight and I-oh"

Your whispered words die on your tongue when you feel his move to your neck. Instinctively, you want to push him away but the feeling of his lips, soft and cold from the ice water he'd just been drinking, moving up the nape of your warm neck if just too good for even begin to swat at. "Give me two minutes to end the call," you murmur as quietly as you can manage into his ear, but you just feel a the gently grunt of his disagreement. "No no baby, you finish that call. I'll be right here."

"But Jack- fuck-"

"Better not let them hear you, baby." He lulls softly into your ear.

"You still there (y/n)."

You almost yelp in fright at the sudden call of your name through the phone. Of course you knew the call was still on but the speaking had completely gone blank to your ears, one of which Jack currently had his teeth nibbling at. "Sorry!" You chime, voice shaky, "I lost you guys for a bit there I was," you have to take pause to release a heavy breath in both an attempt to steady your voice and to expel the pleasure building up through your body as his kisses continue over you, "Moving room. Back now though."

"Are you alright?" One asks in genuine concern. You'll need to do a better job to keep quiet. "Yeah course. Sorry, continue."

They do just that, enveloping back into a conversation that is completely lost on your mind. Jack's hands are under your top, your bra long dropped to the floor. He can see your open mouthed, eyebrow furrowed look of pleasure in the reflection of the mirror as he moved his thigh carefully and slowly between your legs, rhythmically. "Ah ah ahhh," he tuts in your ear lowly, "quite baby, shhhh."

The feeling of his hard on pressing into your ass only fuels the fire burning in the core of your belly with each squeeze and knead of your breasts. He knows exactly what he's doing with the flexing and loosening of his huge thigh muscles pressed into you. You quite literally couldn't catch the moan that tumbled out of your lips with the friction he had created with his leg as he continued those precision targeted kisses leaving marks over your neck.

Both of your friends freeze and Jack is paused in all his movements as you clamp your mouth shut.

"Ouch?" Jack groans, biting down on his lip as he looks at you. His attempt to play off your sound only elicits more silence. "Jack's just stubbed his toe." You announce in an unceremoniously high pitch with an incredibly, almost unheard-of nervous laughter to follow while Jack tries with everything he has not to burst into laughter. "Gotta go, call you back tomorrow!" You yelp out, grabbing your phone from the counter with a frantic hand, "Those feet pay the bills after all!"

Neither of your friends get in a word in before your fingers have hit the big reg end button and turned towards the now very sly looking footballer standing so close that you can still feel the heat radiating off him, that thigh attempting to creep its way back in between yours.

"I'm so going to get you back for that." You warn. He sniggers.

"You will, will you?" He teases with a smirk, jutting his tongue out over his lips.

"Yeah," you say firmly, taking a step closer to him to wedge yourself back into the pleasureful position. "Not fucking today though, Jack. You'll finish what you started today."

He is very happy to accept his marching order, hoisting you up onto his arms with your legs tight around his waist as he immediately moves to set you on the kitchen counter.

"Not a problem, baby."

#jack grealish imagines #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish x reader #jack grealish #england national team imagine #england national team #footballer fics #football fics #jack grealish prompt #jack grealish smut

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slashers-favorite-girl · 2 years

Text

Eric Draven x GN Reader

I condensed what I wrote into a bite-sized piece. Your lonely existence changes when a mysterious man shows up at your place of work.

The dreary dark city became normal for you, you had settled into its embrace, as you returned to the familiar streets and buildings of your youth, the rain drumming against the window as you tended to your mother who was in the hospital. You had traded sunny skies for rain, warmth for the bitter cold.

But your father would never come here, and you couldn't bear the guilt of leaving your mother to die alone and forgotten.

Cancer was taking her, years of smoking finally caught up to her, the irony not lost to you as the corners of your mouth tip up in a grim smile, they held a death stick of your own pressed between your lips as you lit the end, the flicker of the flame illuminating your face as you took a drag, expelling the smoke into the rain-soaked air.

You sat out on the fire escape to the run-down apartment you now called home, ignoring the rain that soaked your clothes. You had settled in quickly once you arrived, buying the bare minimum, a bed, a dresser, a television, and stocking the fridge with meager supplies, enough to still your hunger whenever you allowed yourself to think about it. A lonely existence the harsh years had worn into you.

A full day of job hunting had landed you the perfect gig. A night job at the local library, the building looking more like a gothic cathedral instead of a building full of knowledge. The quiet peace and solitude it offered warmed your bones every night as you picked up books, putting them away, and updated the library's system files for the next day. A simple job, enough to cover the bills and it required very little from you. It was perfect.

You were always a night owl, preferring to sleep in the day, the less contact with others, the better. Your innate thirst for knowledge was now expanded with all the literature at your fingertips from working here. You would spend the end of each night, dug into a bean bag with a worn book on your lap.

It was a normal night, light on work as there wasn't much activity from earlier in the day, allowing you to spend more time to get lost between the pages a bit earlier than usual. You were about to sit down, when you heard the doors open, your head turning in the direction of the noise.

"We're about to close!" You shouted, cursing quietly at yourself for forgetting to lock the door. You wondered who would think it proper to go to the library this late.

You headed to the front, slowing down to stop, a figure in front of you. His fingers grazed the spines before his gaze turned to you.

Dark eyes were framed in dark makeup, a pale face looking back at you, framed in dark curls.

"Tragedy." You mumble to yourself as the man looked at you curiously.

"Your face." You tried to explain.

"Ouch." He said, a laugh ringing from his lips that echoed through the aisles of books. "I never thought I looked that bad."

You frowned before you realized what you had said. You shook your head quickly. "I meant your make-up. You have done it like tragedy, the mask."

He touched his cheek as if he had forgotten it was there before he nodded. "Everyone always suggests a clown when they see it."

You shrug a shoulder. "Art is subjective."

He nodded his head at that, his gaze roaming the library. His dark eyes bright and alert, the shift of his duster caught your attention briefly as he reached for the books, his fingers tracing over the spines.

"Looking for something in particular?" You asked, eyeing the man, hoping to hurry him along so you can retreat to your seclusion.

He shook his head. "No. Recommend anything?" He eyed you as you turned your head to the shelves.

"What do you like to read?" You ask, wanting to narrow the search.

"Everything." He said, with a hint of humor in his smile.

"Well, we most likely have that." Your lips tug into a smile, falling into the playful banter.

The phone rang, startling you. You glance over your shoulder towards the circular desk before looking back at the man.

"A moment please." You say politely, turning and heading back to the information desk, answering the phone.

You finished the call, your feet thumping softly as you return to the spot, only to find it empty and still as if he had never stepped foot into the building.

You roamed the aisles, looking for the strange man, your voice calling out but receiving only silence before you gave up. You fished the key from your pocket and locked the door, turning away as you retreated to the worn bean bag.

Your eyes stopped at the book laying there, not the one you had chosen to read. You lifted it, turning it to view the cover, seeing the familiar mask looking back at you. You shake your head, a thin smile on your lips from the stranger's antics before you turned, sinking into the chair as you opened the book.

Your seclusion became broken by his frequent appearence, almost turning into a routine for you. They were never predictable, except for the knowledge that he would appear, again.

You would both talk, first about literature, then expanding to everything. You confided about your dying mother, your absent father, your empty apartment. Your loneliness was left unsaid, but you were sure he wasn't blind to it.

He in turn confided in things you did not believe. He told you of his fiancee, and her death, and his own as well. You thought he meant it in a romanticized way, your heart aching for him. He simply shook his head, a smirk on his lips.

He told you how he avenged her death, seeking peace, but finding none. He couldn't sleep, and couldn't be harmed. He now roamed the city, her streets embracing him.

You thought he was nuts, but grew to crave his company, his smile, his humor.

When he stopped appearing you grew confused, and sad, falling back to your solitary life, the only thing you knew.

Another storm raged on as you worked, the night full of the din of the rain and the crack of the thunder, lightning illuminating the windows and casting odd shadows. You rounded a corner of the shelf before you gasped, holding your hand to your chest, the books almost falling out of your arm. You shook your head at the figure, skirting past him as you set a book back on the shelf. You had left the doors unlocked for many nights now, not that you would ever admit it.

"Library is closed." You murmured to him, resisting the urge to smile at the sight of him, his eyes watching you as he leaned on the book case with a grin, his duster dripping onto the floor.

"Thought I would check in on you." You shook your head slightly, before you noticed the holes in his shirt, your face twisting in confusion and concern.

"Your shirt." You commented lamely, your fingers pulling on one of them, coming away with blood. Your eyes looked up at him worried. "Are you injured?"

He shook his head. "I told you I can't be harmed."

You pinched your eyebrows together again, your breath leaving in a sigh before you turned your head, returning to your task. He seemed surprised.

"Not going to say anything?" He asked, trying to get a rise out of you.

You eyed him, before you turned away, ignoring him. You reached up on your tiptoes, struggling to put a book back. You jerked in surprise, his cold hand touching yours as he placed it back.

You turned to face him again, clutching the last book to your chest. You thought over your words, a million questions on the tip of your tongue but you chose to keep them at bay.

"What is there to say? A mysterious man shows up here at night. Claims he can't be injured, that he is already dead." You shook your head as you passed by him. You set the remaining book on the cart pushing it to your desk, your eyes going to the small tv.

You watched the news report, seeing the police drag the covered bodies out as he watched you. A notorious gang was taken down, several rings of crime was stopped, something the police had seemed incapable of doing.

You looked over your shoulder at him. "Was that you?"

He watched you quietly, leaning his elbows on the counter, as he laced his fingers together, resting his chin on them. "Yes."

"So you killed those men tonight, and then came here?" You questioned, wondering how delusional he was, and how ignorant to his lies you could be.

"Yes." He nodded, his curls landing on his forehead. Truth was laced into that one word, a feeling in your gut wanted you to believe him, no matter how impossible it seemed.

"Why come to the library?" You ask him instead.

"I wanted a book." He slipped into their old banter with ease.

You didn't believe him, but you kept it to yourself. You gestured to the shelves. "Plenty here, help yourself." You had already forgiven his absence, even though you didn't quite believe his reason for it.

"Does that mean I can stay?"

You debated the question. "Until I have to leave."

"Fair enough." He smiled at you and turned on his heel, disappearing into the shelves.

You found him strange, but couldn't keep the smile off of your face, glad to hear his footsteps in the library again.

#eric draven #eric draven x gn reader #eric draven x reader #the crow #the crow 1994

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iwritefandomimagines · 3 years

Text

An eternity

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: you and spencer had gotten into the habit of going to the bookstore together and meticulously selecting a book for each other once a month for the entire duration of your four-year relationship. today, though, would be different.

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, some light cursing

“Remind me again why you wanted me to dress up all fancy to go to the bookstore, baby?”

Spencer laughed quietly at your question as you laced your fingers with his, leaning into his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your temple, “We’re going for dinner after, Y/N. I just-I just thought it would be nice.”

“Hmm,” you eyed him carefully, not quite believing him but choosing to not push the question any further.

He pushed the doors to your favourite bookstore open gently, letting you enter first and following close behind.

This was your favourite routine of your relationship -- once a month you came and selected a book for each other to read, a book you thought they would enjoy. You’d been doing this since you first got together, and still it was something you looked forward to.

Letting go of your hand, Spencer pulled you close to him by the waist and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, “Happy hunting,” he winked, pulling away from you and heading off determinedly in the direction of the cashier.

You furrowed your brows, perplexed by his actions, but chose to try and shrug it off, searching the bookshelves for a novel you believed would enthral your boyfriend (and, of course, one you’d later enjoy when he'd finished it).

Skimming your fingers along the spines of various books, you found yourself stumped today. You knew it was simply out of curiosity at why Spencer seemed to still be lingering at the cashier’s desk with a twinkle in his eye.

Finally you found a novel -- a book you remembered reading a review of a few months prior. You smiled, eyes glossing over the blurb one final time as you solidified in your mind that this was perfect.

Wandering to the desk, where Spencer still stood, you gently placed the novel down on the counter and flashed a smile at the cashier, Tom, who was always here on your book exchange evenings, “Hey Tom.”

He smiled, greeting you in return and scanning the book immediately. He wrapped it neatly in brown paper, as always, and placed it back between your fingers as you passed him a ten dollar bill.

You glance over at your boyfriend, furrowing your brows at the beaming smile on his face. You were sure your saw it falter for a moment, his expression nervous, but he quickly resumed his smile as he locked his hands in yours.

His free hand raised to show that he was clutching a book too, perfectly wrapped in brown paper and adorned with a small scribble that you couldn’t quite read but could tell was in his handwriting. He pushed it into the inner pocket of his coat before you could snoop.

“We should exchange these at dinner,” he suggested, “It’ll be fun that way.”

You nodded, silent at first before leaning to press a kiss to his cheek as you smiled across at Tom. “Thanks as usual, Tom.”

“My pleasure,” Tom grinned, before shooting a wink in Spencer’s direction, “Have a lovely night, you two.”

Now you were really confused, but followed your boyfriend out of the store, “What the hell was all that about, Spence?”

He said nothing.

You swung your intertwined hands now as if prompting him to tell you the truth, “C’mon baby, you spent the whole time with Tom and you’re being all secretive and... and he winked at you.”

“Patience, pretty girl,” he smirked, “Let’s get to dinner.”

The restaurant Spencer had picked was gorgeous, and the food was to die for.

You were just waiting for dessert when Spencer finally suggested that you exchange your books, a shy smile adorning his features as he asked. You’d smiled, eyeing him curiously as you pulled your wrapped book out of your bag.

“Can I have mine first?” he asked, a cheeky lopsided grin on his face, “I’m feeling impatient.”

“Oh now you’re feeling impatient, huh?” you tease, but hand him his book anyway and watch contentedly as he proceeds to open it.

“Wow, Y/N,” he licks his lips, “I almost bought this the other day. Thank you, baby. I love it.”

Now it was his turn to reach for his book for you, and he didn’t hesitate as he placed the bundle of brown paper in front of you. You grinned, looking down and seeing the words “Page 28″ scrawled carefully in the top corner.

You looked up at Spencer curiously.

You’d both been twenty-eight when you met, and your shared home was number twenty-eight too. You weren’t sure what the game he was playing was, but you pondered whether or not this was significant as you carefully pulled the paper from around the book.

It was a first edition copy of your favourite novel, and as a result your face twisted even more in confusion as you watched Spencer laugh, a sloppy grin still adorning his chiselled features. How had he gotten this? And most importantly, why?

“Oh my god, baby... What?”

“Page 28, sweetheart.”

You carefully peeled open the book to the twenty-eighth page with little difficulty finding it due to the thick item between its pages. There sat a handcrafted bookmark with more scribblings of Spencer’s littering its expanse. Not only that, but attached... a ring.

Y/N, the past four years with you have meant more to me than any in my life. i’ve fallen in love with you countless times since we met, and i don’t think i’ll ever stop falling deeper in love with you as every day passes. thank you for everything. i chose this book because I know its your favourite, and I needed to give you something special. I love you, Y/N. and I will for an eternity. yours forever, spencer. x

The tears falling from your glossy eyes were entirely out of your control, and one of Spencer’s hands immediately took yours into his palm, as the other scooped the ring from the book.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Y/N,” he was crying now too, his fingers trembling, “An eternity with you, with traditions like this... It’s all I want.”

You were trying not to sob, realising exactly what was going on as joy coursed through your veins, “Spence, baby...”

“Will you marry me, Y/N?”

You nodded profusely, reaching your left hand out for him to slide the gorgeous engagement ring on, “Of course, Spencer. Of course I’ll marry you.”

You wished you could capture the euphoric grin on his face forever, but knew it would forever be engrained in your memory regardless. The love of your life had just asked you to marry him? You were on cloud nine.

You leaned forward, tugging him by his collar to press a deep, passionate kiss to his lips. You both grinned into the kiss, pulling back with the brightest smiles as you took in what was happening.

“God, I’ll never stop falling deeper and deeper in love with you, Y/N.”

“Spence,” you cooed, “I love you more than you’ll ever fucking know. Marrying you... I... I can’t wait.”

The shit-eating grin on his face made your heart swell even more than it already had, your mind in overdrive. You couldn’t believe what was happening, but you were sure you'd never been happier than in this moment.

You lifted his hand to your lips, “Thank you, baby. This is perfect.”

He removed his hand from yours to rest it on your jaw, “It had to be... for-for you. I was so nervous, but I knew there was nothing I wanted more.”

“How did you even get this?”

“I asked Tom to keep an eye out for it when they look for rare first editions to stock,” he explained, and the butterflies in your stomach flitted faster as you took in the extent of his efforts to make this perfect, “They got it in two days ago.”

“I’m... fuck, I’m so lucky,” you bit your lip, giggling, “Makes my book choice look pretty shitty, huh?”

-------

thank you for reading! i worry a little that some of spencer’s dialogue seems a little ooc, but i wanted to make this light and cheesy and romantic and I hope you enjoyed anyway! here’s my masterlist for more, and here is my prompt list if you can’t decide what to request!

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer x you #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #fluff #spencer reid fluff

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ttuesday · 3 years

Note

How would the VDL gang comfort/cuddle you if you had a bad day?

also have this fluffy foal 🐴

yay I love fluffy foal!!!! Since we all have bad days, I decided to do a little more than usual for this one so yeah this’ll probably be longer than usual :)

Arthur

-> The second Arthur sees you, he knows something went wrong but he waits until you’re away from the others to talk to you. In a low voice, Arthur asks if you want to go somewhere private before guiding you to his tent or to the outskirts of camp.

-> He doesn’t mind if you don’t tell him what’s bothering you or what made today so terrible. Without saying a word, Arthur wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug.

-> He slowly starts to stroke your hair and tell you that no matter what the problem is, you’ll figure it out.

-> Arthur reminds you of how strong you are and asks if you want to go do something with him tomorrow, whether that be robbing a stagecoach or drinking in a saloon or just going for a ride along the Heartlands. Whatever you want to do, Arthur will go along with it.

Dutch

-> Dutch asks to speak to you in his tent, pretending he needs your opinion on some upcoming robbery but when he closes his tent off to the others, he lets out a sigh and gives you a sympathetic smile.

-> “Want to talk about it?” he asks, sitting next to you on his bed. He understands if you stay quiet, not too sure of how to explain your bad day.

-> Dutch opens his mouth to say a quote from Evelyn Miller he thinks you might find interesting but he hesitates. He knows quotes won’t help right now and so instead he shuffles closer to you, putting his arm around your waist.

-> He’ll let you cuddle into him and he won’t move an inch until you’re feeling a little bit better, even if that takes all night.

Charles

-> Charles doesn’t really know what to do or say. But he believes that some times you don’t need words.

-> Whether you want to sit by the campfire or away from the centre of camp, Charles stays by your side. He knows you probably have some thinking to do so he stays quiet, a comfortable silence falling over ye.

-> Of course if you want to talk or rant, Charles will listen intently, taking in every word you say and every expression you make. And if there’s anything he can do to help, he instantly suggests it to you.

Bill

-> Bill isn't great with words. Everyone knows that. So don't expect him to give you this great motivational speech that will give you high hopes and make you feel like you a superhero.

-> Chances are Bill will just start rambling about something random like how he’s thinking of buying a new saddle for Brown Jack or how he found a piece of chocolate in his beard the other day.

-> His ramblings are a good distraction and Bill has no problem if you want to lean against him as he continues to talk. He’s very warm and cozy so it makes sense if you fall asleep on him.

Javier

-> Javier will try his absolute best to make you feel better. He spends the evening comforting you as best he can and if you still feel bad, he’ll suggest the two of you go on a job.

-> He knows of a homestead you can both rob, it’s easy pickings and he hopes it will help you focus on something and lift your spirits.

-> Who knows, maybe ye can spend the night there to have a break from everything. Javier will spend the night spooning you and whispering his favourite things about you into your ear... though he might ask to be the baby spoon at some point during the night.

Micah

-> Micah suggests that you have a drink with him in the hopes that’ll make your day a bit better. As you sit down at one of the tables at camp, Micah brings over a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

-> He can be very blunt so don’t expect a lot of great comfort or immaculate advice but he will listen to everything you say. Even if he acts like he isn’t listening, believe me, he is.

-> Towards the end of the night when he’s feeling a little more confident than usual (thank u alcohol) he’ll offer you a comfortable seat on his lap. Really he just wants to cuddle in the hopes it’ll lift both of ye’re moods.

John

-> John can be kinda hopeless in situations like this. He’s very awkward but if you need a hug or someone to talk to or a cuddle, then he’s happy to help.

-> If you start to cry, there’s a possibility John will die of awkwardness because he doesn’t know what to do or how to react. His brain may go into shutdown mode.

-> but he will stay there with you for as long you want him there. And he’ll try his best to make you smile again, whether it be with a cuddle, kiss or his dry sense of humour.

Sean

-> Sean's angry. Not at you, he could never truly be mad at you, but Sean presumes your bad day is someone's fault. Before you can explain why you've had a bad day, Sean's loading his revolver and whistling Ennis over so he can go shoot whoever has upset you.

-> If you want him to go kill someone then off he'll go on his mission but if you need him by your side, he can do that too. Because this is Sean, he basically clings to you as he fusses over you.

-> This man will spend the entire night giving you kisses, cuddles, maybe something more *wink wink*. He’ll give you the best advice he can think of and whatever else you need in the moment.

Lenny

-> Lenny hates it when you've had a bad day. He never wants to see you upset or sad, it breaks his heart to see you like that.

-> He gives you a long hug, slightly swaying from side to side. He's also really eager to help you in anyway he can. Want to go on a job to take your mind off it? Let's go. Need someone to tell you you’re an amazing person? He's confident he'll do a great job at that.

-> Be warned though, Lenny can be an emotional fella. So if you start crying, he might start crying too just because you're crying.

Uncle

-> Everyone knows Uncle likes to joke around. When things get tough, he likes to make a joke and laugh about it.

-> So when he heard you had a bad day, he tried to lighten the mood with some jokes. He makes jokes about himself, your shitty day, anyone who passes by and Dutch's speeches.

-> If the jokes aren't working then Uncle tries to say something genuine but he can't help himself and gives it a comedic spin at the end. But he hopes you know he really meant the genuine part.

Trelawny

-> When Trelawny hears you're having a bad day, he doesn't think it's anything to worry about. He thinks he can cheer you up with some magic.

-> He puts on a small show for you, making birds magically appear and finding a bouquet of flowers behind your ear. But Trelawny knows that isn't enough.

-> He sits down next to you and asks if you want to talk. Trelawny is one of the best listeners in camp, he'll listen and try his best to comfort you in whatever way you want. He'll even ask if you want to pet one of his birds.

Hosea

-> No matter what your problem is or whether you want to talk about it or not, Hosea sits down with you. His first concern is to try and make you feel as relaxed and comfortable as possible.

-> He will bring you whatever you want, go wherever you feel most comfortable. Anything you need, he will try his best to provide.

-> If you need to have a good cry, Hosea hands you his handkerchief and tells you to let it all out. There’s no point in hiding your emotions now and he assures you that tomorrow will be a better day.

Tilly

-> Tilly’s great because she’ll let you vent about your bad day but she also knows when to stop you. She wants the best for you and won’t let you rant all day about pointless things.

-> If you start to spiral, she stops you and tells you to let it go. You’ve complained about your shitty day but it’s important not to dwell on it.

-> Before ending the conversation, Tilly gives you a firm but understanding hug and lets you know that she’s here for you if you have another bad day.

Sadie

-> Sadie can put up with a lot of life’s shit. But seeing you upset and feeling miserable? It makes her feel frustrated and pissed off.

-> She’s had some terrible days so she knows the best thing to do is get a blanket, a hot drink and bring you somewhere quiet. Sadie wraps the blanket around you and sits with you.

-> She brushes your hair with her fingers and she softly asks you how you are. It’s strange to hear Sadie talk so softly but in a way it shows you how much she cares and wants to help

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pricklynoodle · 3 years

Text

real or not real

Itadori Yuji/Fushiguro Megumi pairing | Squid Game AU | Rated T | warning: implied character death | ANGST

( yes, writing instead of doing school lol, squid game ruined me so if you want to read this then be warned of SQUID GAME SPOILERS. There's no graphic death, but its sad as hell either way TT)

---

“The player who takes all ten marbles from your partner wins.”

Megumi had always kept to himself, never saying anything unless spoken to, never stuck to groups, and never took the choice to attach himself to something. Everything had an expiration date. Unnecessary things like friendships had never appealed to him. He only needed his sister, and it wasn’t like she had the choice to have him as her brother. But the fact that she still stuck around caring for him until she worked herself to a coma.

So honestly, it’s a surprise why he feels his heart drop when the announcement tells him he has to go against … whatever 310 is to him.

He hardly knows 310, and doesn't know anything about his life actually. Other than that he’s crazy strong, has an impressive pain tolerance, but also the loudest kid he’s ever met. He's always around him, sticking to Megumi like a persistent piece of gum stuck to his shoe. But he doesn't dislike him, but he can't say he's thrilled with him either.

But would Megumi kill him?

Stupid, he tells himself.

“Oh, fuck, I honestly didn’t see that coming,” 310 says with a grimace, looking at Megumi guiltily as if he was the cause of Megumi’s inner turmoil. He sits down on one of the stone benches. The whole setup was supposed to mimic a typical neighborhood, something Megumi wasn’t fortunate enough to grow up in. The bastards even made the effort to add in the sounds of cicadas from the fake trees, as if this was a completely normal summer for a couple of teens.

Megumi doesn’t say anything, he feels dizzy. He drops down to the bench, away from 310 as possible.

“I’ve always wanted to say this,” 310 says as he rests his elbows on his knees, looking at Megumi seriously, “This whole thing reminds me of Hunger Games.”

Megumi looks at him with furrowed brows.

“You know, Jennifer Lawrence?” 310 pushes. Megumi says nothing. “...Tall girl, big ass? The one with the arrows?”

“Can you shut the fuck up,” Megumi deadpans, then he shakes his head. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He counts to ten, then glances down at his hand. 10 marbles. “Just tell me how to play this game.”

“I don’t know either,” 310 admits, sounding sheepish. He shrugs carelessly, “This is more of the games my gramps used to play, but he was too busy being sick to teach me though.”

Megumi looks up at 310. He looks tired, but nostalgic. Like he was thinking of a good memory.

310 perks up, grinning at Megumi brightly, “though they said that we can make our own rules. I’ll think of something.”

Megumi nods solemnly. The silence stretches until 310 lets out an ‘aha!’.

“Let’s bet everything and just play one around,” 310 says, even dropping his fist down onto his hand as if it were the best idea ever.

Megumi freezes, staring at 310, was he going to trick him? He doesn’t even know him. They’re not friends. Of course, everything still is a death tournament at the end of the day.

310 seems to pick up Megumi’s reluctance, he jerks his head to the side. He points towards the pair of men competing against each other, looking frantic and panicked.Their faces are sheened with sweat, t-shirts drenched in sweat. It’s… it’s a pathetic sight.

“Fine,” Megumi relents. “What are we playing?”

“Calm down,” 310 chuckles, “are you that excited to kill me?”

Megumi stays quiet.

“We have a lot of time left,” 310 says breezily, pointing towards the timer mounted on the wall. “Let’s do it at the last minute.”

“What do you suggest we do till then?” Megumi asks with a scowl. “Sit nice and pretty, twiddle our thumbs and shove these marbles up our asses?”

“Jesus, man,” 310 laughs, “no just… talk.”

“Talk,” Megumi repeats.

“Talk,” 310 smiles, looking down at his hands. Megumi looks at them too. He remembers the hard calluses on them, when they shook hands. They’re thick and sturdy, and hold a lot of power. He really could have killed Megumi before, just wrap his hands around his neck and it’s all over.

Megumi also shakes away the filthy thoughts of what else those hands could do. Get a grip, Fushiguro.

“Things we couldn’t tell other people,” 310 says, smiling wistfully. “One of us is going to die here anyways.”

Megumi swallows the lump in his throat.

310 smiles wider. He’s always smiling, Megumi notes.

“There’s no reason to feel embarrassed if that’s the case,” 310 tells him, “I promise I won’t laugh when you blush like a tomato.”

“I don’t,” Megumi denies, but he can feel the heat already rising up to his cheeks.

“You do,” 310 says, “but I think it’s cute.”

Cute.

“So, uh, you have someone back home then?” 310 asks.

“Yeah,” Megumi says.

“...like a girlfriend or something?”

“Sister,” Megumi says quickly, “no...never a girlfriend. Impossible for me.”

“Ah, okay,” 310 says, nodding. “Just your sister?”

“I had a dad, but he … never came back.” Megumi confesses, “he was a shitty dad. He was never really home, but he gave us shelter and food. He had a bad temper, but he never hit us. He never liked to be around me especially. I … used to think he hated me.”

“What changed?” 310 asked.

“I… I became him. I understand why he did what he did,” Megumi says, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket. “Doing dirty jobs, stealing, never at home. Hiding from danger. Hiding us from danger. Protection.”

310 nodded, he slid closer to Megumi. Thighs brushing. Silence continues.

“He came here,” Megumi says, looking up at the ceiling. It’s painted a pink-orange gradient, like a sunset. “I found half of that business card in one of his jackets. The last two digits were cut off. I dialed every possible number until I got here.”

“For what?” 310 asks.

“Find him,” Megumi says, “punch him. I would have killed him, I think, if I found out that he left us to rot. Then steal all his money to pay for my sister’s medical bills.”

“Oh, she’s sick?”

“Coma,” Megumi clarifies. “Some rich bastard from work hit her on her way home. He got off easy because of money.”

“I see,” 310 says, clenching his fists. “That’s terrible.”

“Yeah,” Megumi says gruffly.

“You’re still getting money though,” 310 says. He doesn’t say but you don’t get your dad back. “What would you do with it?”

Megumi doesn’t even hesitate, “pay for my sister’s medical bills. Buy a nice house for us to live in. A car, if I can.”

“If you can?” 310 says, “where would you drive your car?”

“school,” Megumi says simply. “I would use my car to drive to school.”

310 blinks. “You know, you can do much more with that 40 billion. You really don’t want anything else? Don’t have a destination?”

“I’d go to Sendai.”

“Wh—Sendai? I’m from Sendai. Are you kidding me? Are you going to drive there with a shiny new Toyota Yaris?”

Megumi blushes furiously, “enough about me, ugh, it’s your turn anyways.”

310 shakes his head, but he’s giggling like a schoolgirl. “You really have to think bigger. Have you ever been to the beach?”

“No,” Megumi says.

“You should, one that’s got nice soft sand and blue water. With palm trees too. And you should get piña coladas.”

“What?”

“C’mon man, you don’t get to be frugal with 40 billion. I’ll teach you how to splurge once we get out—”

Ah.

“Right,” 310 breathes out, laughing to himself all silly. “Only one of us leaves.”

Megumi grunts.

Silence.

“...Ever seen a dead body?” 310 asks.

“...I’ve been answering all these questions. You haven’t answered at all,” Megumi points out, feeling far too exposed for running his mouth.

“Ah you’re right! Uh, I don’t have anyone.”

“But your grandfather—”

“He’s dead. For a while now. My mom and dad. Also dead. My brother is on the run. He’s, uh, killed a lot of people. He got the death penalty, so yeah, haven’t really seen him around.”

Megumi looks at him.

“I don’t think he counts,” 310 says, scratching his face. Megumi realizes the scars on his face aren’t from the previous games. They looked healed, puckered and faded from time.“He looks a lot like me, though. A lot of people can’t tell us apart. He hated that. He’s only a bit taller than me, and he loves to brag about it. He has a huge ego.”

“I see.”

“Yeah,” 310 says, but he doesn’t look awkward about it. Just mildly inconvenienced. “Oh, have we really been talking for that long?”

Megumi looks at the time. They have less than 2 minutes.

310 stands up, swiping the dirt off his pants. He pats around for his marbles. “Okay, so you see that wall over there?”

Megumi nods mutely. It’s quite far, maybe around 2 meters.

“Okay, we throw one marble, and the one closest to the wall wins, okay?”

“Okay.” Megumi nods, easy enough.

“Okay, you go first.”

Megumi scowls.

“added rule, we do it together,” he says, jaw clenched.

“Eh?” 310 looks at him, confused.

“I’ve been doing things first, so it seems rather fair if we do it at the same time, with our best effort, okay? I have the blue marble, you get the red one.”

“... okay.”

“Don’t give me a weak ass toss, alright, that doesn’t count,” Megumi says gruffly, narrowing his eyes at him. “Do your best.”

310 nods, giving him a thumbs up. “Okay!”

“On three,” Megumi says.

“Okay!”

“Three.”

“Two,” 310 continues, positioning his arm.

“One,” Megumi does the same.

They both throw their marbles. Megumi’s heart leaps out of its chest as he watches his marble in the air.

Clack!

Megumi looks down on the marble that lands right next to his shoe.

It’s red.

“Ahh, shoot, I threw it too hard,” 310 says with a pout.

Megumi sees red.

He shoves 310 against the wall. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Whoa! No, you won f-fair and square, man,” 310 stutters. “I did my best shot, like you said!”

“Any idiot would know that shit would bounce right back if you threw it like that!”

310 laughs, “I must be some one of a kind idiot, then.”

Megumi shoves him further into the wall. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“You can’t kill me if I’m gonna be dead anyways.”

“THEN I’LL KILL YOU IF YOU DIE.”

“See, that doesn’t really make sense—”

“Shut the fuck up! Why did you do that?!”

310 slumps against the wall, body lax. Not looking at him.

“Answer me!”

“You… you have a lot more to live for than me,” 310 says quietly. He looks up at Megumi, tears in his eyes, “what kind of asshole would I be to deny you for a life?”

“You have a life!” Megumi snaps.

“I don’t, not anymore,” 310 sobs, a wobbly smile on his face. “Before my grandfather died, he told me that I should help others. That when it was my time to go, I would die surrounded by others and not end up like him.

“I should use my strength to help others, that’s what I’ve been doing here. Out there, no one wants me to help them. No one wants the face of a killer to help them. No one wants me to be around them. I can’t go to places, I’ve… I’ve always hated what Sukuna did to me. Made me carry his sins, his crimes. The way people looked at me as if I was him. I can’t move forward, not like you.

“I… I never went to school either, y’know. Or I never graduated. When Sukuna became a wanted man, I became a target. I stayed in my room. The doors were locked. The curtains were always down. It was like this for years. I received no support. The only way I could get by was doing interviews with journalists, feeding the narrative. Making people hate Sukuna more, making them hate me more. That’s no way to live.”

Megumi felt the back of his eyes burn, his teeth aching from being clenched too tight.

“Even if...I had the money. I can’t erase what my brother did. I can’t erase my existence in the world. I would just keep doing the same thing everyday. I don’t… I don’t want a bigger house, not when it’s just me who lives there.”

“You and I are not so different,” he says, looking up at Megumi.. “I think that’s why… I want you to win. You get to experience all these normal things, and feel… happy. You have a chance.”

Megumi wipes his eyes harshly, “Shit.”

“That’s true.”

“... What’s your name?” Megumi asks.

“Itadori Yuji,” 310—no, Yuji says. “My name is Itadori Yuji.”

Megumi takes a shaky breath, he raises his hand for him. “Fushiguro Megumi.”

Yuji grins, he clasps his hand onto Megumi’s. “That means blessing, right?”

“I don’t fucking know.”

“I’m glad then, Megumi. That I’m friends with you even through this hell. That itself is a blessing in a disguise.”

“Shut up,” Megumi punches his shoulder.

A guard suddenly arrives, carrying a gun in his hand. Waiting.

Yuji looks behind Megumi’s head. “Ah, I wish we had more time.”

Megumi bites his lip. “I wish I’d… met you sooner. I don't know anything about you.”

Yuji jaw drops, “Okay, I’ll … summarize this in ten seconds! I’m twenty-years-old, my favorite color is green, my favorite manga is Bleach, my type is tall people with big butts! Uhh, I really like watching action films—”

“Not … whatever, nevermind,” Megumi says softly as he listens to Yuji ramble on about himself.

Yuji pauses from his ramble looking winded, “uhm, Fushiguro, can I hug you?”

Megumi freezes.

“I just haven’t had a hug in a long time—” Yuji trails off before he gets cut off with Fushiguro hugging him desperately, clinging to him.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot!”

“...Hey, Fushiguro Megumi, live a long life, okay?”

Megumi lets go.

He turns around.

Eyes burning as he stares unblinking down the path. Footsteps. Silence. Breathing. He feels something salty on his lips when he licks them. It's not sweat.

He... he got attached. He stares forward, he doesn't regret it. Not at all. He got to know Yuji Itadori, the real him, and the pain in his heart is the best he can give back. A reminder that he was more than what people saw him. Yuji Itadori didn't deserve what the world gave him, they did not deserve his cries. The fact that... no one would shed a tear for him.

...Ah.

Megumi notices the dark wet spots on the dirt.

“Thanks for playing with me.”

#my writing #itafushi #itadori yūji #fushiguro megumi #fushiita #squid game au #squid game spoilers #angst #fanfiction #im sorry everyone lol #it just broke me #i m gonna go lay down and cry now bye

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legends-of-apex · 3 years

Text

‘The Day He Didn’t’

Robbie Reyes/Ghost Rider x Reader (angst, fluff)

Word count: 5,100

Rating: T (tw for death and grief, brief suggestiveness)

Summary: *Spoilers for Agents of SHIELD season 4* You, an agent of SHIELD and long-time resident of the Reyes household, deal with the fallout from Robbie’s “death” in episode 8. This fic mainly explores the relationship you had with Robbie and how you come to terms with his death whilst trying to take care of Gabe in his absence. Based on this request for anon. Reader is described as female.

Author’s note: I’m so sorry in advance to anyone who reads this as there so much angst! Some fluff sprinkled in there as well but mainly angst! Hope you guys enjoy it all the same! Please feel free to let me know what you think ☺️

“Cariña?” You stopped dead in your tracks, almost dropping the bundle of paperwork in your arms at the sound of the nickname only one person in the world had for you. You turned to see Robbie walking towards you with Mack and Daisy, “What are you doing here?” he asked, surprise evident on his face despite knowing your profession. The only reason he didn't have many apprehensions about helping out SHIELD in the first place was because you worked for them so he figured they couldn’t be all bad.

“I work here.” You blinked just to make sure you weren’t seeing things, “What on Earth are you doing here?”

Worry instantly seeped into your pores, and knowing it would, he took your hand in his, silently telling you everything was alright as his thumb smoothly dragged over your knuckles. He’d always avoided the authorities like the plague and you worried he’d been captured for all he’d been doing as Ghost Rider recently but given the lack of hostility towards him from the others in the halls, you guessed he wasn’t some escaped prisoner and was working with your team.

“This is your civilian boyfriend from east LA?” Daisy asked, never putting two and two together. To her credit, there were probably thousands of mechanics living in east LA and that was all you’d told her about him for fear she’d go snooping. What were the chances your boyfriend would be the one guy with a flaming head that she’d been tracking down?

They left you alone to talk and the very first thing he did was wrap you up in his arms. You were due home from SHIELD that evening. Having been away for a little over a week, he’d missed you terribly. Gabe had too although he’d never admit it. You sighed into his arms and placed a kiss on his cheek, unable to hug him back due to all the paperwork you carried.

Home had come to you rather than the other way around today, it seems.

“You know when I said I wasn’t worried about you working for SHIELD?” He grinned, “I’d like to officially retract that statement. The shit you guys have to deal with here is crazy.”

“Oh, you mean the guys with flaming heads and stuff?” You joked.

“It’s the ‘and stuff’ that has me worried now that I’ve seen it firsthand.” Your worlds weren’t so different after all and that worried him just because he knew how dangerous it was. You could take care of yourself, of that he was certain, but he never thought for a minute that you were dealing with the likes of him at your nine to five. Given how little you were legally allowed to tell him, he never asked and you never told.

“Oh please, I’m hardly ever in the field.” You assured, not wanting to worry him. What neither of you did was easy or safe but at least you got paid for what you did, he just got tired, “SHIELD is as safe as spy agencies come.”

Three days later Robbie was dead.

You quit SHIELD on the spot in favour of returning home to his little brother Gabe. Not only had the most important person in the world to him just died but the very reason for his demise was their uncle Eli.

You’d lived with him and Gabe for years, since Eli got sent to prison. Gabe had just lost the use of his legs and Robbie became the sole provider for the two of them. They needed you. And you needed them, and a place to stay. You got Eli’s old room. He didn’t mind, if anything he was glad the boys had someone looking out for them in his absence even if you spent half the week at work with SHIELD.

Robbie and Gabe still shared a room at the time despite their age but that didn’t last all too long once you moved in. Soon Gabe was sick of his brother’s late nights and when winter rolled around and the gas bill got too expensive, you were freezing in that room on your own. With the portable heater in Gabe’s room and Robbie sleeping in with you most nights anyway, it was the cold that finally pushed him out of sharing with his brother and into sharing with you.

Even though you’d been living with them for months, you and Robbie only really said you’d move in together once he shared a room with you. He kept your heart and your body feeling warm and safe. He was so endlessly, hopelessly warm in both body and mind despite everything. But it was when you moved in together that you started to notice something more than the trauma of what happened to him and Gabe that one night was bothering him. There was something very, very wrong with Robbie.

You even saw it in his eyes sometimes. The pain. The fire.

One night as you sat straddling his lap, gazing down at him with your hands braced against his strong chest, talking about what happened with Eli of all things when his eyes changed. They took on a molten orange hue. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen it but it was the first time you’d not been otherwise too… occupied…to mention it.

“Your eyes-” you started but you had no idea what else to say. Suddenly the permanent smell of burn made sense and the late nights he said he spent at Canello’s despite the lack of extra income. The Ghost Rider had been all over local news channels. He’d been targeting the same gang that shot up the car with Robbie and Gabe inside. White supremacist gangs too.

His panicked eyes searched your face, desperate for any indication of what you were thinking. His thumbs rubbed circles into the outside of your thighs as you stared at the pillow beside his head, gaze unfocused before you finally swallowed and locked your eyes with his.

“Are you...” You didn’t need to say anymore, he saw the realisation on your face and he nodded immediately. He wasn’t able to voice the answer, far too paralysed with fear as to what your reaction would be but he was done hiding this from you. To his surprise, you flung your arms around his neck and squeezed him so tight it hurt.

You wouldn’t tell Gabe, you wouldn’t tell the cops or SHIELD and most importantly of all, you weren’t going to leave him because of it.

Since then it seemed like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, made his steps a little lighter. The late nights he was out hunting were spent with you worrying about him since then, despite him assuring you that as long as that demon was in him he literally couldn’t die.

Most of the time you waited up for him so you could check him over and make sure he was okay, make sure his mind could ease and return to earth after the spike in adrenaline that came with the Rider taking over for a few hours. Although sometimes he was out so late that sleep took you despite your best efforts.

On one such night, he heard a soft mumblr of his name in the darkness of your bedroom, your voice quiet and strained with sleep. He felt his heart ache with the longing that laced it.

He crouched down at the foot of the bed so you could see that he was alright, that he was home, “Yeah cariña, I’m here.” He replied in a half-whisper, careful not to wake you up any more than you already were. He leant down to press a kiss to your forehead and recoiled at the temperature of your skin, “You’re freezing?”.

The heating got switched off again, but he didn’t need to know that right now. You made sure Gabe had the portable heater and a few extra blankets, knowing you’d have all the heat you needed once Robbie got home. “Got all the heat I need right here,” You tapped his chest softly. He was so inhumanly warm thanks to the hellfire bubbling within. Too warm for you to hold him for long in the scorching summer, but the perfect temperature for when the nights grew cold.

The moment he lay down beside you he was tugging you towards him, enveloping your body with his as much as he could. You nuzzled your face into his chest, clinging on to the fabric of his shirt. He tucked the covers in around your body before bringing his arm to rest across you, letting his fingers run a trail across your back.

“That better?” He asked and you nodded, finally able to exhale a breath at being a comfortable temperature.

“Yeah baby, thank you. Much better now you’re here.” His entire being radiated comfort, “Rough night? You look exhausted.” He truly did. Heavy bags hung beneath his eyes and he seemed like he could barely keep his eyes open.

“I am. But it always makes me feel better knowing I get to come home to you after.” He pressed a kiss to the bridge of your nose, eliciting a giggle, “You comfy?” He asked and you nodded, “Good cause I ain’t moving till well past midday tomorrow.”

“And skip your favourite meal of the day?” You questioned all whilst settling down further into the mattress beneath you, eyes heavy with sleep.

“Baby, the only breakfast I need is nestled right between your thighs.” He was so close to sleep just then that you weren’t sure he even knew half of what he was saying.

You laughed, but your tone quickly sobered, “I was worried about you,” you hadn’t heard him come in. You only realised he was home when you woke up to the faint smell of burnt material filling your nostrils as it often did when he was around.

“You don’t gotta worry about me. You know I’ll always come back to you and Gabe.”

You hummed in agreement, “You better….”

“I will.” He affirmed, pressing his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes for the night as he did.

To his credit, he did come back to you night after night, day after day until the one day he didn’t.

All you could do was watch in horror as his own uncle impaled him with spikes of solid carbon. You had seen the look on his face when it happened. He knew exactly what he had to do but it meant breaking his promise to you and to Gabe but Ghost Rider did it for him anyway. At the very least it was quick for both he and Eli, at least he hadn’t suffered.

“He doesn’t even have a grave!” Gabe was in hysterics when you told him. Although the look on your face when you came through the door that day was telling enough of what happened. No body and no death records meant no grave. Nothing to remember him by except for the people who knew him and the emptiness in that house in his wake.

“Why don’t we go make one then, huh?” You offered.

That’s how the tiny wooden cross made its way into the back garden. A sharpened end so it sank into the ground right next to another one for Eli. It wasn’t much. But it was something and it seemed to make Gabe feel better about not being able to bury them. He prayed in front of it sometimes. Religion was big in their family but he’d never really cared for it until now, knowing their parents would be rolling in their graves with Robbie not having a grave or even a body to bury properly.

Both graves were adorned with marigolds. You brought Gabe to the market each week to buy more so the scent stayed fresh. He said they were usually reserved for Dia de los Muertos, the smell and vibrant orange colour was used to bring the souls of the dead towards an altar or a grave, but he said it couldn’t hurt to leave them there whilst the flowers were in season.

The only family he had left was gone in one fell swoop. Robbie always said he dreaded the day they’d have to bury Eli and add him to the list of family Gabe lost. The thought that he’d be on that list and added to the altar alongside his parents never even crossed his mind.

Despite everything, Gabriel decided to keep going to school and you couldn’t have been prouder of him for it. And you still helped him with homework, despite some of it already seeming like it was beyond you due to how advanced the content he was learning was. You helped him out with essays a lot as he struggled with those the most. Math and science were his true favourites, business too.

You sat at the kitchen table reading over an essay he needed help with as you often did. Although now there was no Robbie to come in from work and press a kiss to your head, or your neck if Gabe was out of the room. There was no one to mess up the neat part in Gabe’s hair or steal a chip from his plate. No comforting roar of the Dodge Charger as he pulled into the drive or rustling of the shopping bags or takeout that he’d bring home. No one to coax you into his lap or out for a drive to nowhere after dinner when Gabe went to his room to game with his online friends.

You missed him. You felt the loss of him in every sense of the word. Like there was a hole in your lives and that house.

It hit you hard sometimes and then the tears would leak. There was really nothing you could do to stop it. Gabe was the same although it was usually on weekends when they’d have spent the most time together that he got the most upset. That’s when he truly felt the loss. Robbie used to take him to a nearby arcade on Saturday mornings and they’d maybe catch a movie after, forever making sure that Gabe got the childhood he never had.

“I miss him. I miss him so much.”

“I know, Gabe. I know.” You’d pet over his hair as soaked the material of your shirt with his tears. And as much as it pained you to hear it, you were always glad he cried. In fact, you encouraged him to. It was healthy and Christ did that kid have a lot to cry about. You’d never forget the way he cried when you told him what happened. He hiccuped in both grief for his brother and uncle and the prospect that he was now well and truly alone. He didn’t expect you to stay with him, he didn’t think you’d want to so when you told him that you’d stay in what was now legally his house so long as he wanted you to, he cried even harder. Neither of you had to be alone and you’d been looking after one another ever since.

These days he made a point of always hugging you goodnight, something he never really did before. And you knew that it was because he was afraid of losing you too. You might not have been family but you’d always treated each other as if you were. Now you bonded over your shared grief of losing Robbie. He was still just a kid and you didn’t put any more strain on him than he already had but he often insisted on making breakfast or dinner, lunch sometimes too so you had something good to eat at work. Meanwhile, you worked to keep the lights on, took him to school or his friend’s house, helped with homework and generally kept his spirits up.

You even went to a parent-teacher meeting with him once. He’d very sheepishly asked if you could come and said it was borderline hilarious the number of guardians he’d had come in his dead parent’s place. First uncle Eli, then Robbie and now you. A few of his teachers remembered his brother well despite him leaving the school a solid eight years prior. His English teacher said she nearly quit when she learned there was another Reyes child who’d be passing through the school as if Robbie hadn’t already nearly given her a stroke in previous years. She said he wasn’t disruptive, in fact, he was so respectful and polite that she could almost overlook the fact that he’d miss class constantly in favour of beating the shit out of the kids who bullied others or working rather than doing schoolwork.

“If I had a nickel for every note I had to send home to his Uncle, I could afford to live somewhere way less shitty than here.” She probably didn’t realise that he had to work because Eli couldn’t afford to take care of them by himself, or why he dropped out at seventeen to work full-time so he could make sure Gabe wouldn’t have to.

Those parent-teacher meetings were a drag. But it was good to know that despite everything, Gabe was still doing well and still on track for a scholarship or two.

You adored Gabe.

For all his rolling over your toes when he went off in a huff or the days where it was difficult being responsible for your dead boyfriend’s little brother. But you loved him like he was your own little brother, and tried to love him just as Robbie did.

It was his eyes that sometimes got the better of you though. He’d say good morning and produce a plate of food for you, brown eyes beaming with the morning dew. And those eyes, the same as his brother’s in colour and size, would crush you and force the memories of all times you’d gazed into those similar pools right to the surface. Gabe never could understand why you got so upset, sometimes seemingly completely at random, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him it was because he had his brother’s eyes. That the sight of his likeness was enough to turn your composure to dust.

Part of you missed working for SHIELD too. You missed your friends and the good work you did at your job. You didn't, however, miss the uniform. But even seeing the logo now just reminded you of that day. Being a civilian with a civilian job was so strange to you. There was no dealing with aliens or anything nearly as threatening on the day to day but some small part of you missed it.

Mack, Daisy and Coulson came around sometimes. Mack mainly came to check over the Charger but his face was a friendly one and you were always glad to see it. Coulson and Daisy usually came bearing groceries and news of how things were at SHIELD, with Coulson still trying to convince you to re-join after you quit on the spot when Eli and Robbie died.

“How’s Gabe?” Daisy asked, knowing he wouldn’t let her ask him herself. He blamed her partially for Robbie’s death having warned her not to get his brother mixed up in anything so dangerous as SHIELD. He hadn’t known then what his brother did at night but even now he still won’t look her in the eyes.

“He’s good. Somehow still on track for Harvard if he keeps his grades up. He’s even got a girlfriend now.” You told her and she smiled, “I think he’s trying to distract himself, keep himself busy so he doesn’t have to come to terms with the fact that he’s gone. Either that or he’s just putting on a brave face.”

Then she’d ask you the same thing she did every time she came to visit, “Are you doing okay?” and every time, you gave a weak “I will be,” in reply.

“Are you sleeping?”

“No, not really.” You were trying, truly you were. But every time you closed your eyes all you saw was the bright flash of orange that took him from you and every time you opened them you just saw the cold sheets at his side of the bed. When you did eventually get some sleep it was almost always whilst clinging to one of his old shirts on which his scent still lingered. You wouldn’t dare wear more than one or two for fear that you’d one day need to wash them all so you just cycled through his shirts until the smell on each one faded. It was the only way you could ever get to sleep.

Money was of course an issue and you received very little help from any authorities other than SHIELD due to the unorthodox nature of the situation. You weren’t a widow as you were never married and you couldn’t really be classed as Gabe’s guardian because of his age and your non-relation to him. But you’d sooner be damned than let him fall into the foster system. You’d do anything for that kid.

“SHIELD’s gone legit now. We can get you good lawyers.” Coulson said.

“Even with good lawyers, I don’t know how you’re going to sell the fact that the kid wants his dead brother’s girlfriend to be his legal guardian. Robbie doesn’t even have a death certificate.” Coulson’s heart was in the right place, it always was. But sometimes his optimism was misplaced.

Daisy’s eyes brightened, “We can forge one but Gabe would need to sign-“ you cut her off.

“No.” You stopped her from saying another word about it, “I’m not about to make him sign his own brother’s death certificate. He’s been through enough.”

It was a few weeks later when you heard a single creak in the floorboards at your bedroom doorway that was loud enough to wake you from what little sleep you had managed to get. It didn’t sound like Gabe’s wheelchair and he didn’t have any friends over so you were immediately on edge.

It smelt like something was burning, the air thick and bristled. You rolled out of bed immediately for fear that the house was on fire but then you saw a silhouette taking up most of the doorway. Based on the outline, it was a person and you stared for a second, just a second, before grabbing hold of the baseball bat at your bedside and making a move. When the shadow took one step inside your room, a hand outstretched towards you as the moonlight illuminated his features, you faltered and let the bat fall to the floor

“Robbie?” Shit, you must’ve been dreaming again. But you didn’t care.

You reached for him regardless, breath hitching when you touched something solid. You flattened your palm out on the centre of his chest where his jacket hung open, feeling the warmth and hellfire that bubbled within. His hand came to cover yours then and you looked up to see those brown eyes you’d gazed into so often and loved so dearly now damp and threatening to spill over with tears.

“I’m so sorry-“ he started but you engulfed him in a hug the second he opened his mouth. At that moment you couldn’t care less about why he wasn’t there, only that at that moment he was. You threw your arms around his neck when the tears started.

With a heave, he lifted your knees around his waist and carried you to the bedside where he sat with you in his lap.

He’d thought for so long about what to say and now that he finally had the chance, he told you everything. He told you about Eli, about the book of dark magic he’d read and been corrupted by was still around somewhere. How when he died, he clawed his way through hell. Literally. To get back to you. The demon inside him fought through hell to get back to that book and destroy it for good, he’d had the reigns fully in hell. Robbie was reduced to a passenger in his own body down there. Months without being able to live in his own skin.

“I can’t stay,” He told you, swallowing thickly, “He wants to take that book back.”

“Back?” You asked, already knowing full well what he meant. You just didn’t want it to be true.

He nodded solemnly as his jaw clenched, “To Hell.”

You held his cheek, searching his eyes. For what you didn’t know. Any indication he was kidding maybe? You didn’t find any. Instead, you only found pain and sadness. Guilt too.

“He said I can say goodbye to you and Gabe,” his voice cracked, “Then I have to go.”

He was lucky the demon allowed him that much of a privilege. It was only because the entire time he’d been in hell he had to deal with Robbie’s worrying, his longing nagging at the back of his mind. It was a courtesy only because he didn’t want to deal with that again.

“The thought of coming back to you has been the only damn thing that’s kept my heart beating. I would do anything to stay with you for good but I made a deal and he won’t let me stay until that book is gone.”

The last thing he wanted to do was give you false hope. He didn’t want you waiting up for him as you often did or putting your life on pause waiting for him to return when he had no idea when that would be. You deserved more and he wanted you to have that, even if it meant he might not have a place in your life when he did eventually return from the land of the dead. It wouldn’t be fair of him to expect that from you and so he never did.

He had that look in his eye he got when he was about to do something stupidly self-sacrificial for someone else’s sake and you weren’t about to hear it. Not now. You had a vague idea of what he wanted to say, that he never really deserved you in the first place and that he was sorry for all the pain he’d put you through, that he wouldn’t be upset when he got back if you chose to move on. But you knew he was damned and the risks and pain that came with it. And as much as he would never accept it, he was worth the pain.

You held him for as long as he could stay, knowing he was on borrowed time.

“Gabe’s got a girlfriend now. He finally made a move on Janet’s sister.” He blinked at you in awe, a smile spreading across his face, “You might wanna give him the talk before you go if you haven’t already.” As much as you loved that kid there was no way that was a conversation you were about to have with him.

He smiled wide at that and shook his head, “Already taken care of, chica.” They’d had that conversation far too early if he was being honest.

You held each other for what wasn’t nearly long enough to make up for the months apart. There was so much you both wanted to say and so little time to do it. You didn’t even know where to start, neither did he. So you just lay there in each other’s arms for as long as you could or until the demon got antsy.

You knocked on Gabe’s bedroom door and received a definitely still asleep reply.

“There’s someone here to see you.” You stood in his doorway, Robbie at your side waiting for Gabe’s eyes to open. When they did, he beamed and shouted in delight. You left them to it, not wanting to impose.

You waited in the living room, playing with the keys to the Dodge Charger in your fingers. When Robbie finally emerged from Gabe’s room, his eyes wet with hastily wiped tears, he made a beeline for you once more. “Thank you,” He kissed your forehead and tugged you as close to him as he could, “For everything you’ve done for Gabe. And for me.”

“He’s family and so are you.” You mumbled. He dragged a palm over his face again, wiping his tears.

“Gabe said I’m to ask you to marry me when I get back. To make you officially a Reyes.” You looked to him in question, “I told him that it was entirely your decision cause I’d marry you in a heartbeat. And it’s bold of him to assume you’d take my name.”

“Kid’s got some bold assumptions for sure.” You played coy, there was no way he was getting an answer out of you that easily. You knew he wasn’t asking you anyways, just telling you what Gabe had said.

“I’ll take that as a maybe.” He laughed. The prospect of marriage would never be a question for the two of you, it would always be a conversation. Something you’d decide on together.

“Take it as an order to get your ass back here and find out.” You smiled and kissed his cheek, “I love you. Please come back in one piece.”

“I love you too, Cariña. Take care of yourself,” he closed your fingers over the keys to the Dodge Charger so they were safely caged in your hand, “and my baby.”

Oh, you’d take care of his baby alright.

With one last bone crushing hug and a kiss, he was gone again. And for the first time in months, you felt whole. Even if he was going back to suffer, to trudge his way through Hell once he got ahold of that book. The promise that he’d return to you for good this time was one you knew he’d keep, no matter how long it took him to do so.

It was enough for you and it was enough for Gabe too.

The next time Daisy visited she said it’d probably be the last for a while. She and the team were in hiding from the authorities. She said she didn’t have the time to explain.

“You okay?” She asked as she usually did, knowing Robbie had been back to you before going to help them get that book back so he could bring it down to Hell.

“I will be,” you replied, and for the first time in a while you meant it.

Tagging (the horni for Ghost Rider squad): @icy-spicy @spring-soldier

#robbie reyes x reader #robbie reyes #ghost rider x reader #ghost rider #agents of shield #angst #fluff #my writing #fic #mine

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