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#Nature and reality do not give a shit about staying inside boxes
astranva · 3 years
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TikTok Compilation (pt.2)
Word Count: 1.8k
Category: Fluff
Warning: Some language, very, very slight implied smut; like, it’s a line.
Summary: Yet another compilation of Y/N and Harry content on TikTok as a couple.
// masterlist //
a/n i’ve been receiving loads of tiktok requests so i combined some here! y’all have been asking for this for so long, sorry it took me long to post! let me know what you think. stay safe, friends!
..
Surely, you had hoped life would have taken a turn a long time ago with the pandemic.
Going outside without masks and crippling fear seemed like a dream, despite it all having been a reality for most of our lives. And while it was cliché, you truly don’t know what you have until it’s gone, like the boring routine you had complained about but now wished to get back.
And in your case, you also didn’t know that one app could have the ability to make things slightly easier during these times – TikTok.
Call it as you may, but quarantine TikTok content was a blessing and while you could swear by that, so could the fans and everyone else on the app since the moment you (and Harry) joined.
Having had tried so many pranks, challenges, and dances, you showed no signs of coming to an end of finding humor and pleasure from the app that Gen Z dominated with the wildest spirits.
With wild spirits, came wild content and for a generation that is openly expressive, there was also wholesome content; all of which Harry’s fans had tagged you to do and try with him.
‘Make your partner impersonate you’
For that one, Harry seemed to be the most excited to do, face beaming with a thousand spiraling ideas of things he could do and say.
The moment the video began, Harry was seen under your white covers, your pink velvet headband that everyone considered iconic rested on his head to show that he was acting like you, pretending to be sleepy as he spoke in a softer voice than his, “Don’t want to get up. More cuddles, please, baby.”
Then video then cut to Harry in the kitchen, you following behind him.
“I wonder where H is, need to pinch his bum.” He said in the same pitch he used for the previous shot.
The video then cut to Harry sitting on the couch beside you, holding his phone, “Baby, look at that!” He showed you his phone, showing you a video on TikTok, “Can we do it?”
‘Wipe your lips after your bf kisses you’
For this, you were picking Harry up from the studio.
Waiting in the parking lot, you had your phone placed behind the box of tissues.
To stay safe, you began recording a normal video for you to edit later as you waited for Harry to show.
When he did, Harry looked right and left as he searched for your car before his eyes fell on you and despite the mask on his face hiding half of it, you could tell that he smiled.
Getting inside the car, Harry took off his mask with a sigh, “First time to actually breathe since morning.” He said before leaning closer to you, pressing his lips against yours.
Doing your part, you looked ahead as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand, noticing Harry’s body stiff as he looked at you.
“Did you just-” He paused, “Did you wipe your lips?”
You hummed in confusion, acting as if you hadn’t heard him as you looked at him.
“Did you-Come here,” he frowned before pulling you close by your hoodie’s drawstrings, pressing his lips against yours in a kiss again.
Again, you wiped your lips.
“Why are you doing that?” He asked, not only confusion being evident in his tone, but hurt, too, “Why are you wiping my ki-Babe, I’m clean.”
“What?” You asked, looking at him as you smiled amusingly, trying to contain your laughter.
“Why are you wiping my kiss?” Harry almost whined, frowning.
“I’m sorry, it’s for TikTok,” you giggled, breaking into laughter when he groaned with a roll of his eyes before he grabbed your jaw, kissing your lips more aggressively.
“Never again.”
‘Let go of your partner’s hand and see what they do’
If there was one thing Harry liked to brag about, it was knowing how to multitask; drive with one hand, hold yours with the other.
It was a natural occurrence for the both of you to hold hands when he drove, no matter what.
Deciding to try that one trend, you took advantage of Harry being focused on the road to film your intertwined hands on your thigh for two seconds before taking your hand out of his.
Instantly, Harry glanced at you, seemingly unaware to you tilting your phone in the other hand to film his face, “Why’d you leave my hand?” He only mumbled before opening his palm towards you once again, smiling when he heard you softly giggle as you put your hand back in his, cooing when he raised it his lips, pressing a soft and gentle kiss on your knuckles, “This stays right here.”
‘Film yourself acting like your partner’
Since the TikTok of Harry acting you like received so many reactions, among them were fans asking you to act like Harry as well, and Harry was down to watch that happen.
Harry recorded you, first shot of video being a little shaky as he couldn’t contain his giggles while watching you in his flared pants, an oversized shirt, his cross pendant on your neck between the valley of your chest, rings on your fingers that showed chipped black polish on your nails.
Your hair was gathered up in a scrunchie, one leg over the other as you sat on a chair, “I’m Harry Styles,” you began, “And like, I never explain my music, I let people interpret it the way they want because music,” you sucked a breath, “Is art. It’s a form of expression that isn’t limited, it’s, like, very open. Like the ocean.” You said slowly, mimicking Harry’s accent and smiling at the end when Harry burst out laughing.
For the next shot, you were in Harry’s white bathrobe, coming out of the bathroom before leaning on the doorframe and looking at Harry as he filmed you, “You sure you’re going to let me shower alone, love?”
Another shot was of you in Harry’s joggers and TPWK black hoodie, sprawled on your couch with the hood on, looking at Harry in disbelief as you still mimicked his accent and deep voice, “Excuse me? Why are you standing there and not cuddling me?”
In a grey tank top of his that you dramatically spilt water on to make it look like sweat and sweat shorts, you had Harry’s boxing gloves on your hands as you bumped your fists together, approaching Harry as he recorded, “God, I’m so sweaty, I have to go hug my girlfriend.”
For the final shot, you had Harry’s guitar in your arms, adjusting the strap as you stood, “I’m going to write a song that is so sexual and record it but I’m not going to release it because I’m a biiiiiitch.” You sang, dramatically strumming the guitar.
‘Pretend to take a mirror selfie with your partner then whisper something dirty in their ear’
You enjoyed the sun; the way it sneaked inside yours and Harry’s room from the sides of your curtains, lit up the room so warmly.
You enjoyed how the natural lighting looked for pictures.
You also enjoyed teasing the shit out of your boyfriend.
“Come here,” you made one grabby hand at Harry who entered the room, scratching his chin, “Let’s take a picture.”
Already used to random pictures being taken together, Harry reached you, standing in front of your vanity mirror as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a kiss against your temple.
Oblivious to it being a video, Harry leaned his chin on your shoulder, giving his famous smug look to the mirror as you held up your phone.
Turning your head, you made sure your voice was low so that your phone wouldn’t pick what you said;
“Want you to pound me.”
And instantly, Harry’s smug look faltered; his eyes widening, face brightening as he looked at you as you giggled before releasing a squeal once you felt him carry you and move you from where you stood, and to the bed as you laughed.
‘Tell your partner your ex wants to return a hoodie of yours’
Propping your phone up, you made sure it showed Harry as he cooked while you sat on the kitchen stool.
You folded your arms on the table, clearing your throat as you eyed Harry while he was chopping carrots.
“Hey, H,” Harry hummed, stealing a glance at you before looking back at his chore, “My ex called earlier,”
At this, Harry’s eyebrows furrowed before he looked up at you, putting down the knife and leaning his hands on the counter, his arms seeming to look bigger as he tensed, “What did he say?”
Trying not to laugh, you looked down, beginning to play with your fingers before giving him a shrug, “Just that he still has a hoodie of mine at his place,”
“Yeah?”
“And asked if I need it back.”
“What did you say?”
You gave him another shrug, “Said I’ll let him know.”
“Well, do you need it?” He asked, “Like really need it?”
“Yeah, it was my high school’s.”
“But baby, you have a lot of hoodies,” one hand of his reached to his lips, fingers grazing his bottom lip for a moment, “Can get it for you.”
“That’d be so awkward, H,” you sighed.
“Why? I’m your boyfriend.” Harry reasoned, “Maybe I can just come with you,” he said again before his face lit up, “I can have it customized instead. Just tell me how it looked like and-”
“Baby, no,” you chuckled, “It won’t be the same.”
“Come on, love,” he frowned, “He calls you 3 years later to tell you he still has your hoodie. You don’t think that’s suspicious? He knows you’re with m-Everyone knows we’re together.”
“Maybe he forgot,” you shrugged, “Actually, let me call and as-”
“Oh, fuck no!” Harry instantly rushed to you.
‘Aggressively tell your partner you love them’
Chilling on the couch, Harry was watching the TV, unaware of your phone that had been resting on the shelf to record you beforehand.
You stomped where Harry was, whose head snapped to you, his mouth chewing his banana bite slower as he eyed you carefully, taking in your angry state.
You threw your notebook on the couch beside him, “I love you!” You said aggressively, a frown on your face as you pointed at him, “I fucking love you!”
Harry took a moment, his face shifting to one of amusement before he raised his hands up – one holding his banana – before pointing at you, “I fucking love you, too!” He screamed.
“No, no,” you shook your head, still aggressively speaking, “I love you more!”
“I’m so fucking in love with you!” Harry said as aggressively, standing in an instant, towering over you as he pressed himself against you before wrapping one arm around you, “Why are we shouting, you weirdo?”
‘Stick your hand out and see what your partner does’
Harry was sat beside you on his laptop, music blasting from it as he emailed himself some tasks.
Recording him with one hand, you reached your arm out, opening your palm at him.
Harry looked down at your hand, a smile making its way to his face before he looked at you before placing his chin on your hand, closing his eyes as he gave you a dopey smile as you squished his cheeks while giggling, “Hiii.”
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mcmansionhell · 3 years
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Underground, Part 1
[Author’s Note: A year ago, when waiting for the DC Metro, I came up with an idea for a short story involving two realtors and the infamous Las Vegas Underground House, typed up an outline, and shoved it away in my documents where it sat neglected until this month. The house recently resurfaced on Twitter, and combined with almost a year of quarantine, the story quickly materialized. Though I rarely write fiction, I decided I’d give it a shot as a kind of novelty McMansion Hell post. I’ve peppered the story with photos from the house to break up the walls of text. Hopefully you find it entertaining. I look forward to returning next month with the second installment of this as well as our regularly scheduled McMansion content. Happy New Year!
Warning: there’s lots of swearing in this.]
Underground
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Back in 1997, Mathieu Rino, the son of two Finnish mechanical engineers who may or may not have worked intimately with the US State Department, changed his name to Jay Renault in order to sell more houses. It worked wonders.
He gets out of the car, shuts the door harder than he should. Renault wrinkles his nose. It’s a miserable Las Vegas afternoon - a sizzling, dry heat pools in ripples above the asphalt. The desert is a place that is full of interesting and diverse forms of life, but Jay’s the kind of American who sees it all as empty square-footage. He frowns at the dirt dusting up his alligator-skin loafers but then remembers that every lot, after all, has potential. Renault wipes the sweat from his leathery face, slicks back his stringy blond hair and adjusts the aviators on the bridge of his nose. The Breitling diving watch crowding his wrist looks especially big in the afternoon glare. He glances at it.
“Shit,” he says. The door on the other side of the car closes, as though in response. 
If Jay Renault is the consummate rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xer trying to sell houses to other rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xers, then Robert Little is his millennial counterpart. Both are very good at their jobs. Robert adjusts his tie in the reflection of the Porsche window, purses his lips. He’s Vegas-showman attractive, with dark hair, a decent tan, and a too-bright smile - the kind of attractive that ruins marriages but makes for an excellent divorcee. Mildly sleazy.
“Help me with these platters, will you?” Renault gestures, popping the trunk. Robert does not want to sweat too much before an open house, but he obliges anyway. They’re both wearing suits. The heat is unbearable. A spread of charcuterie in one hand, Jay double-checks his pockets for the house keys, presses the button that locks his car. 
Both men sigh, and their eyes slowly trail up to the little stucco house sitting smack dab in the center of an enormous lot, a sea of gravel punctuated by a few sickly palms. The house has the distinct appearance of being made of cardboard, ticky-tacky, a show prop. Burnt orange awnings don its narrow windows, which somehow makes it look even more fake. 
“Here we go again,” Jay mutters, fishing the keys out of his pocket. He jiggles them until the splintered plywood door opens with a croak, revealing a dark and drab interior – dusty, even though the cleaners were here yesterday. Robert kicks the door shut with his foot behind him.
 “Christ,” he swears, eyes trailing over the terrible ecru sponge paint adorning the walls. “This shit is so bleak.”
The surface-level house is mostly empty. There’s nothing for them to see or attend to there, and so the men step through a narrow hallway at the end of which is an elevator. They could take the stairs, but don’t want to risk it with the platters. After all, they were quite expensive. Renault elbows the button and the doors part. 
“Let’s just get this over with,” he says as they step inside. The fluorescent lights above them buzz something awful. A cheery metal sign welcomes them to “Tex’s Hideaway.” Beneath it is an eldritch image of a cave, foreboding. Robert’s stomach’s in knots. Ever since the company assigned him to this property, he’s been terrified of it. He tells himself that the house is, in fact, creepy, that it is completely normal for him to be ill at ease. The elevator’s ding is harsh and mechanical. They step out. Jay flips a switch and the basement is flooded with eerie light. 
It’s famous, this house - The Las Vegas Underground House. The two realtors refer to it simply as “the bunker.” Built by an eccentric millionaire at the height of Cold War hysteria, it’s six-thousand square feet of paranoid, aspirational fantasy. The first thing anyone notices is the carpet – too-green, meant to resemble grass, sprawling out lawn-like, bookmarked by fake trees, each a front for a steel beam. Nothing can grow here. It imitates life, unable to sustain it. The leaves of the ficuses seem particularly plastic.
Bistro sets scatter the ‘yard’ (if one can call it that), and there’s plenty of outdoor activities – a parquet dance floor complete with pole and disco ball, a putt putt course, an outdoor grill made to look like it’s nestled in a rock, but in reality better resembles a baked potato. The pool and hot tub, both sculpted in concrete and fiberglass mimicking a natural rock formation, are less Playboy grotto and more Fred Flintstone. It’s a very seventies idea of fun.
Then, of course, there’s the house. That fucking house. 
A house built underground in 1978 was always meant to be a mansard – the mansard roof was a historical inevitability. The only other option was International Style modernism, but the millionaire and his wife were red-blooded anti-Communists. Hence, the mansard. Robert thinks the house looks like a fast-food restaurant. Jay thinks it looks like a lawn and tennis club he once attended as a child where he took badminton lessons from a swarthy Czech man named Jan. It’s drab and squat, made more open by big floor-to-ceiling windows nestled under fresh-looking cedar shingles. There’s no weather down here to shrivel them up.
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“Shall we?” Jay drawls. The two make their way into the kitchen and set the platters down on the white tile countertop. Robert leans up against the island, careful of the oversized hood looming over the electric stovetop. He eyes the white cabinets, accented with Barbie pink trim. The matching linoleum floor squeaks under his Italian loafers. 
“I don’t understand why we bother doing this,” Robert complains. “Nobody’s seriously going to buy this shit, and the company’s out a hundred bucks for party platters.”
“It’s the same every time,” Renault agrees. “The only people who show up are Instagram kids and the crazies - you know, the same kind of freaks who’d pay money to see Chernobyl.” 
“Dark tourism, they call it.”
Jay checks his watch again. Being in here makes him nervous.
“Still an hour until open house,” he mutters. “I wish we could get drunk.”
Robert exhales deeply. He also wishes he could get drunk, but still, a job’s a job.
“I guess we should check to see if everything’s good to go.”
The men head into the living room. The beamed, slanted ceiling gives it a mid-century vibe, but the staging muddles the aura. Jay remembers making the call to the staging company. “Give us your spares,” he told them, “Whatever it is you’re not gonna miss. Nobody’ll ever buy this house anyway.” 
The result is eclectic – a mix of office furniture, neo-Tuscan McMansion garb, and stuffy waiting-room lamps, all scattered atop popcorn-butter shag carpeting. Hideous, Robert thinks. Then there’s the ‘entertaining’ room, which is a particular pain in the ass to them, because the carpet was so disgusting, they had to replace it with that fake wood floor just to be able to stand being in there for more than five minutes. There’s a heady stone fireplace on one wall, the kind they don’t make anymore, a hearth. Next to it, equally hedonistic, a full bar. Through some doors, a red-painted room with a pool table and paintings of girls in fedoras on the wall. It’s all so cheap, really. Jay pulls out a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket along with a pen. He ticks some boxes and moves on.
The dining room’s the worst to Robert. Somehow the ugly floral pattern on the curtains stretches up in bloomer-like into a frilly cornice, carried through to the wallpaper and the ceiling, inescapable, suffocating. It smells like mothballs and old fabric. The whole house smells like that. 
The master bedroom’s the most normal – if anything in this house could be called normal. Mismatched art and staging furniture crowd blank walls. When someone comes into a house, Jay told Robert all those years ago, they should be able to picture themselves living in it. That’s the goal of staging. 
There’s two more bedrooms. The men go through them quickly. The first isn’t so bad – claustrophobic, but acceptable – but the saccharine pink tuille wallpaper of the second gives Renault a sympathetic toothache. The pair return to the kitchen to wait.
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Both men are itching to check their phones, but there’s no point – there’s no signal in here, none whatsoever. Renault, cynical to the core, thinks about marketing the house to the anti-5G people. It’s unsettlingly quiet. The two men have no choice but to entertain themselves the old-fashioned way, through small talk.
“It’s really fucked up, when you think about it,” Renault muses.
“What is?”
“The house, Bob.”
Robert hates being called Bob. He’s told Jay that hundreds of times, and yet…
“Yeah,” Robert mutters, annoyed.
“No, really. Like, imagine. You’re rich, you founded a major multinational company marketing hairbrushes to stay-at-home moms, and what do you decide to do with your money? Move to Vegas and build a fucking bunker. Like, imagine thinking the end of the world is just around the corner, forcing your poor wife to live there for ten, fifteen years, and then dying, a paranoid old man.” Renault finds the whole thing rather poetic. 
“The Russkies really got to poor ol’ Henderson, didn’t they?” Robert snickers.
“The wife’s more tragic if you ask me,” Renault drawls. “The second that batshit old coot died, she called a guy to build a front house on top of this one, since she already owned the lot. Poor woman probably hadn’t seen sunlight in God knows how long.”
“Surely they had to get groceries.”
Jay frowns. Robert has no sense of drama, he thinks. Bad trait for a realtor.
“Still,” he murmurs. “It’s sad.”
“I would have gotten a divorce, if I were her,” the younger man says, as though it were obvious. It’s Jay’s turn to laugh.
“I’ve had three of those, and trust me, it’s not as easy as you think.”
“You’re seeing some new girl now, aren’t you?” Robert doesn’t really care, he just knows Jay likes to talk about himself, and talking fills the time.  
“Yeah. Casino girl. Twenty-six.”
“And how old are you again?”
“None of your business.”
“Did you see the renderings I emailed to you?” Robert asks briskly, not wanting to discuss Jay’s sex life any further.
“What renderings?”
“Of this house, what it could look like.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Jay has not seen the renderings.
“If it were rezoned,” Robert continues, feeling very smart, “It could be a tourist attraction - put a nice visitor’s center on the lot, make it sleek and modern. Sell trinkets. It’s a nice parcel, close to the Strip - some clever investor could make it into a Museum of Ice Cream-type thing, you know?”
“Museum of Ice Cream?”
“In New York. It’s, not, like, educational or anything. Really, it’s just a bunch of colorful rooms where kids come to take pictures of themselves.”
“Instagram,” Jay mutters. “You know, I just sold a penthouse the other week to an Instagram influencer. Takes pictures of herself on the beach to sell face cream or some shit. Eight-point-two million dollars.”
“Jesus,” Robert whistles. “Fat commission.”
“You’re telling me. My oldest daughter turns sixteen this year. She’s getting a Mazda for Christmas.”
“You ever see that show, My Super Sweet Sixteen? On MTV? Where rich kids got, like, rappers to perform at their birthday parties? Every time at the end, some guy would pull up in, like, an Escalade with a big pink bow on it and all the kids would scream.”
“Sounds stupid,” Jay says.
“It was stupid.”
It’s Robert’s turn to check his watch, a dainty gold Rolex.
“Fuck, still thirty minutes.”
“Time really does stand still in here, doesn’t it?” Jay remarks.
“We should have left the office a little later,” Robert complains. “The charcuterie is going to get –“
A deafening sound roars through the house and a violent, explosive tremor throws both men on the ground, shakes the walls and everything between them. The power’s out for a few seconds before there’s a flicker, and light fills the room again. Two backup generators, reads Jay’s description in the listing - an appeal to the prepper demographic, which trends higher in income than non-preppers. For a moment, the only things either are conscious of are the harsh flourescent lighting and the ringing in their ears. Time slows, everything seems muted and too bright. Robert rubs the side of his face, pulls back his hand and sees blood.
“Christ,” he chokes out. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know,” Jay breathes, looking at his hands, trying to determine if he’s got a concussion. The results are inconclusive – everything’s slow and fuzzy, but after a moment, he thinks it might just be shock.
“It sounded like a fucking 747 just nosedived on top of us.” 
“Yeah, Jesus.” Jay’s still staring at his fingers in a daze. “You okay?”
“I think so,” Robert grumbles. Jay gives him a cursory examination.
“Nothing that needs stitches,” he reports bluntly. Robert’s relieved. His face sells a lot of houses to a lot of lonely women and a few lonely men. There’s a muffled whine, which the two men soon recognize as a throng of sirens. Both of them try to calm the panic rising in their chests, to no avail.
“Whatever the fuck happened,” Jay says, trying to make light of the situation, “At least we’re in here. The bunker.”
Fear forms in the whites of Robert’s eyes.
“What if we’re stuck in here,” he whispers, afraid to speak such a thing into the world. The fear spreads to his companion.
“Try the elevator,” Jay urges, and Robert gets up, wobbles a little as his head sorts itself out, and leaves. A moment later, Jay hears him swear a blue streak, and from the kitchen window, sees him standing before the closed metal doors, staring at his feet. His pulse racing, Renault jogs out to see for himself.
“It’s dead,” Robert murmurs. 
“Whatever happened,” Jay says cautiously, rubbing the back of his still-sore neck, “It must have been pretty bad. Like, I don’t think we should go up yet. Besides, surely the office knows we’re still down here.”
“Right, right,” the younger man breathes, trying to reassure himself.
“Let’s just wait it out. I’m sure everything’s fine.” The way Jay says it does not make Robert feel any better. 
“Okay,” the younger man grumbles. “I’m getting a fucking drink, though.”
“Yeah, Jesus. That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.” Renault shoves his hands in his suit pocket to keep them from trembling.  
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sgwrscrsh · 3 years
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winter days: underneath the tree
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☁️a/n☁️ this made my heart very warm to write even though i pulled an all-nighter to get it done because my time-management has gone to shit after finals. requested by @sachirou-senpai​. thank you, ellie, for giving me a reason to bring back my boys. i’ve missed ‘summer on you’ so much. this can be read as a stand-alone or as a spin off of ending b, my fave. either way, merry christmas to my babes who celebrate! i have one more christmas fic for tmr and then i’m hiding away to plan + write an smau.
includes: female!reader, poly!seijoh four, post-timeskip (very minor manga spoilers), lots of domesticity, a little suggestive bit, a lot of eating and sleeping now that i realize, a christmas tree, matching pajamas, a very special christmas gift, makki slapping your ass once, a lil teary moment w tooru, homemade curry + pancakes (but not together), lots of cuddling, lots of love, happy holidays, 4.35k words
☁️masterlist☁️
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shivering slightly, you unlock the door to the rather spacious apartment you shared with your four boyfriends later into the evening than you would’ve liked. 
yes, four boyfriends. whom you love very much and are loved by in return.
living with four towering hunks has it’s ups and downs, but you wouldn’t trade tooru’s extensive skin care regiment sprawled across the bathroom counter; hajime’s bag of protein powder that he always forgets to put away; issei’s boots that you always tripped over when you came through the front door; or takahiro’s costco-sized box of cream puffs in the freezer that he insisted he would finish by the end of the month, almost half a year ago, for the world.
you made sure to stomp off the snow stuck on your boots before entering the building, but you couldn’t help but sigh at the warmth that greets you once you toe them off.
“ahhh,” you think. “thank goodness tooru convinced us to invest in heated floors.” another perk of having four boyfriends was that two of them brought in enough bank for you to seriously consider becoming their cute little housewife. snorting, you shake your head, though the idea of prancing around in a maid outfit to tease them seemed very appealing. “maybe we should make hiro dress up and clean the house since he still hasn’t found a new job yet.” 
“what’s so funny, sweets?” speak of the devil. makki’s head pops out from the bathroom nearest to the front door, steam rolling out and droplets falling from his hair, signifying that he had just taken a hot shower. wordlessly, you stare at him, lost in thought imagining the water caressing his toned body, but a second later, he gets a better look at you and laughs. “you look like a wet dog!” your glare loses some of its edge when he takes in your own damp strands. 
“did someone say something about a dog?” tooru comes bounding round the corner, and you could’ve sworn he drooped a little when he realized it was just you in the hallway sans dog. turning your icy glance on the setter, you open your mouth to complain about how mean the two of them were being to you when your prince charming comes in to save the day.
“you two, stop bullying the poor girl and let her take a warm bath before she gets sick!” iwa chides as he helps you unbundle the layers that protected you from the snow and sharp winds of the winter. pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead and promising to pick out comfy clothes for you, he ushers you into your spacious en suite where a steaming tub full of rose petals awaits you. hajime chuckles at the starry eyes you give him, heart warming at the love and appreciation shining clear as day on your face, before he leaves to grab a clean pair of underwear, one of issei’s t-shirts, and a pair of his own sweats, knowing you much prefer to wear their clothes at home.
submerged in the bath, you exhale contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut as you enjoy the product of iwa’s consideration and foresight. letting the stress of work and the chill of the outdoors melt from you, you stay in the water until it cools and your fingers prune. a lone thought of how much more you would’ve enjoyed the bath if the boys had joined you flits through your mind, but you jolt when you open your eyes and find issei sitting on the counter with a towel and your robe in his lap, some of the water sloshing over the side of the tub. 
“oh thank god, i was scared you fell asleep and would drown or choke on a rose petal.” you giggle while he wraps you up in your robe before gently toweling your hair dry. “you can’t leave me to deal with the three of them alone.” 
rolling your eyes, you retort easily, “if anything, i’d feel bad about leaving hajime to deal with the three of you alone. the poor man puts up with enough from his team, he doesn’t need you guys ganging up on him, too.”
“well i’ll have you know, sometimes he really enjoys us ganging up on him.” his cheeky quip paired with his wiggling eyebrows earns him a smack on the chest but regardless, you let him sweep you up into his arms and drop you on the massive bed the five of you shared. “get dressed, babygirl. as much as i’d love to spend more time with you naked, i gotta help haji finish dinner.” with a quick peck on your lips, issei leaves you to do just as he said. 
emerging revitalized and relaxed, your mouth waters at the smell of homemade curry, distracted enough to not notice tooru’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and waist. 
“hey, cutie, i’ve missed you,” he sings, face snuggled into the junction of your shoulder and neck. you spin around in his hold to slip your arms around his slim torso, relishing his firm lines against your soft curves. 
“‘ve missed you too, tooru.” and you really did, grateful that all of you were able to take time off work and he was able to come home a week before the holidays, giving the five of you a whole month to spend together before he had to jet back to argentina for his next bout of training and practice games.
“hell yea! group hug!” makki comes running towards you guys, only for you to twist out of his reach at the last second, sending him straight into the sofa behind you. “oof, that was cold, y/n.”
you stick your tongue out at the strawberry boy. “yea, well that’s what you get for laughing at me when i got home. sucker.” still entangled in tooru’s embrace, you feel his body shake with mirth and bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from dissolving into giggles when you see a pout take over hiro’s pretty face.
“dinner’s ready,” comes iwa’s call, beckoning the three of you into the kitchen before you could antagonize each other some more. once you all got your servings of curry, you settle into your proclaimed seats on the large sofa, your body comically small compared to their tall frames dwarfing the cushions. noting the way tooru threw his long legs over iwa’s and how mattsun and makki leaned against each other as they ate, you fold your legs to tuck your feet under takahiro’s thigh and dig in to your meal with some trashy reality show lighting up the tv screen, completely certain that the warmth in your chest was from the company of your loved ones more so than the piping hot potatoes in your stomach.
during breakfast the next day, you blearily rub the sleep out of your eyes before taking a sip of your coffee, a satisfied “ahhh” escaping your parted lips as you lean against the kitchen counter. slowly peeling your eyelids open, you notice all of their gazes were focused on you. “yes? can i help you?” you ask amusedly, awake now that caffeine had be introduced to your tired body.
“how are you still so gorgeous in the morning?” you blink at the dreamy look on iwa’s face propped up in his hands with his elbows on the surface of the island. looking around, you see the other three matching the athletic trainer’s pose and expression next to him. thinking over your messy bedhead, mysteriously stained pajamas, and almost impressively dark eyebags, you want to scoff, but the unfairly handsome men giving you their undivided attention despite all of that (“because of all of that, y/n-chan,” tooru would argue) make you blush instead.
“you’re one to talk, haji,” you opt to remark, hoping to divert their focus from you and your rosy cheeks. “and don’t look at me like that,” your pointed finger swinging wildly between the four of them like the needle of a compass. “you already know you guys are way outta my league, you don’t need me to tell you that.” with one last flourish, you wave your hand dismissively before grabbing your mug with both hands, palms warming against the ceramic.
“as wrong as you are, you can’t blame us for wanting to hear the love of our lives compliment us first thing in the morning as we admire her natural beauty,” mattsun grins once he sees the success his words have at deepening the flush on your face. tooru nods gravely in agreement, but it’s makki’s one-two combo of a wink and an air kiss that breaks you. you roll your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh but release it immediately when the playful atmosphere takes a heady turn. clearing your throat, you pay no heed to their hungry expressions, knowing full well that they all noticed your little action and how they would react to it.
“a-anyways,” you stutter, “i’m gonna go get ready ‘cause i have things to do today so-” you try to slip by, leaving your empty cup in the sink, only to get caught in your tracks by hiro’s long arms. 
“ah, ah, ah, princess. and where do you think you’re going?” soon enough, you find yourself surrounded by your smoking hot boyfriends and heat up in anticipation of their next moves. 
“this so isn’t fair,” you complain aloud, though you were just as eager as they were to get you out of your worn sleep clothes. 
“tough shit, babygirl. guess you’re just gonna have to add four more things to your to-do list, huh?” 
naturally, you leave your errands for some day later in the week when you’re able to walk properly again.
the opportunity comes when you rise earlier than the rest of them, a rare occasion where you found yourself graced with the freedom of sleeping on the outside instead of being sandwiched in the middle of the bed. tiptoeing about, you brush your teeth and get dressed, somehow managing to not wake any of the sleeping beauties. you scribble little love-filled messages on post-it notes and stick them around your apartment on your way out, but not without one last soft smile in the direction of the bedroom, the sight of the four of them cuddled together through the door left ajar renewing your motivation to accomplish your tasks and come home sooner. 
with your laptop bag in tow, you set out for your first destination, settling into a corner booth at the coffee shop with a full cup and a pastry. once you finish your breakfast, you pull out your laptop and get to work, scouring the internet for the perfect gifts for your lovably imperfect partners. you rack your brain for any recollection of any moment where they would’ve let a potential present slip into conversation and light up when you come across volleyball print pajama pants. you check the availability of the sizes you needed and upon realizing that they were all in stock and would be delivered before christmas, you place your order without a moment’s hesitation. satisfied with your progress, you pull up the animal shelter’s hours before heading out of the cafe, the barista’s greetings and the jingling bells echoing behind you. 
by the time you return home, it’s late in the afternoon and you’re greeted by a wall of warm bodies as soon as you step through the front door. 
“where’ve you been, babe?” once again, takahiro is the first to meet your return, but this time he plants a sweet kiss on your lips with his long fingers encircling your waist after his inquiry. 
“oh, you know,” you sigh, dazed from the saccharine embrace. “out and about.”
“busy day? hope it was productive.” you nuzzle into tooru’s chest, feeling the timbre of his voice through your skin, and nod.
“as a matter of fact, it was.” their eyes soften at the proud grin stretched across your face. but your grumbling stomach just had to ruin the moment, making the three of you stare at each other before bursting out in chuckles.
“you skipped lunch?” oiks asks, wrapping each arm around yours and hiro’s waists and guiding you into the kitchen. you rub the back of your neck sheepishly.
“i guess so? i didn’t really notice i was hungry until now.”
“good thing we saved your favorite from that chinese place down the street for you,” mattsun comes up behind you and lands a kiss on the crown of your head. you beam gratefully up at him and skip over to the fridge to retrieve the takeout.
“welcome home, love,” iwaizumi emerges from the bathroom to complete the set and gives you a once over. “you look tired.”
“gee thanks, hajime.” he rolls his eyes playfully at you while you wait for your food to heat up in the microwave.
“what time did you get up this morning?” 
“uhhh,” you start, mouth full. at iwa’s stern glare, you swallow before answering, “seven-ish? earlier than i would’ve like for a vacation day but it was worth it.”
“hm, well i’m glad you had a good day at least.” you shuffle over to kiss his cheek before dropping yourself on top of where tooru and hiro were cuddling on the sofa, eyes drifting around the room to take in the holiday decorations adorning the space.
“thanks, haji. but you’re right, i am sleepy.” suppressing a yawn, you lean back against the broad chests behind you and tuck back into the paper container. “can we take a nap once i’m done?”
“sure thing, babygirl.” the innocent smile mattsun sends your way turns mischievous with his added comment. “we really tuckered ourselves out while you were gone.” you nearly choke but makki’s hand thumping your back helps you dislodge whatever food got caught in your throat. iwa shakes his head and looks to the side in an attempt to hide his face, but the reddening tips of his ears give him away. meanwhile, oikawa catches your eye and winks.
“how else did you suppose we keep ourselves occupied when our baby wasn’t home?” you get up to toss your now empty container, shaking your head as you go. 
“i’m glad to see you at least got the christmas tree up before going at it. god, you’re all insatiable.”
“i mean, it’s hard not to be in this relationship,” hajime grumbles.
“aww, iwa,” makki pushes his lips into an overexaggerated pout. “you make me hard, too.” full-bellied chortles escape the four of you, ignoring iwaizumi’s indignant huffs.
“whatever,” comes his miffed reply, but you know he takes all your antics in stride. soon enough, he returns to the living room with a stack of blankets and finds you and issei added to the pile of limbs tooru and hiro founded. somehow, hajime situates himself to fit perfectly in your cuddle fest, blankets sprawled about to keep you warm.
one last yawn leaves your mouth before you mutter a sleepy, “night, guys. love you,” barely registering the quiet “love you”s you get in return as you drift off, the lights adorning your christmas tree twinkling above you.
christmas day, you wake up before the others again, this time more than willing to feign sleep and revel in the warmth of your shared bed. luckily, you don’t have to wait long for your boys to stir. sitting up, you stretch your arms above you head and begin to climb out of bed only to be caught by the wrist and dragged back down.
“haji, please,” you draw out. “we can finally open the presents under the tree!”
“i don’t care, it’s too early for you to leave me, princess.” you hum as he pulls you closer to him, revisiting your mental note that iwa is much more openly (and selfishly) affectionate in the mornings. 
“oi, the rest of us are still here you know.” face buried against tooru’s back, mattsun’s muffled complaint gets hajime to loosen his hold on you. 
“yea, yea,” he props himself up on his elbow to lean over you and kisses the former middle blocker’s temple. “unfortunately.”
“so mean, iwa-chan,” oikawa pipes up, stretching his arm across you to caress your boyfriend’s toned arm before lacing his fingers with makki’s. the pink haired man himself, still half-asleep, squeezes tooru’s hand before sitting up.
“hey, wait. it’s christmas, isn’t it?” takahiro’s question reminds you of the package you received a couple days prior, prompting you to spring out of bed before one of them could reel you back in. the four watch you rifle through the closet and resurface with the pajama pants you ordered.
“merry christmas!” you cry excitedly, tossing each boy their respective pair and eagerly awaiting their reactions. “they’re matching pj’s! look, i got one for myself, too.” thankful that you chose to go to bed in just one of iwa’s godzilla t-shirts and underwear last night, you rush to slip on your volleyball print pants. the boys take in your childlike joy, chests tightening at how precious you are. “hurry up, i want you to try them on so we can match!” at your insistence, they roll out of bed and dutifully don your gifts. 
“oh these are actually really soft,” tooru murmurs thoughtfully, fingering the fabric on his thigh.
“right?” you pipe up, nearly bouncing off the walls. “i wanted to do something to commemorate our first christmas together in this apartment and i thought these were really cute since volleyball is what brought us together in the first place.” eyes meet each other as you all reminisce that special summer, grateful that you stayed close despite your individual journeys after graduation.
suddenly, the doorbell ringing catches your attention. a brief glance at the clock on the bedside table tells you it’s much later in the morning than you though, but you’re quick to answer the door.
“who could that be?” the boys are left wondering, wandering out into the living room in time to see you wave goodbye to whoever it was with a large gift-wrapped box sitting on the floor next to you. 
“babe? who was it?” tooru is the first to ask the question on all of their minds. 
“oh, just my best friend. they wanted to drop this off on their way to their parents’ house.” you gingerly pick up the box and bring it to where your boys were waiting for you. “go ahead!”
“go ahead?” hajime parrots. 
“yea! open it!”
“it’s not for you?” takahiro ponders.
“well yes and no. c’mon just open it already!” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet at this point. tooru finally takes the initiative to remove the lid of the box, eyes widening when he sees what it hid.
“oh my gosh,” he breathes. the other three nearly knock heads with how quickly they lean over the opening.
“is that-?” a furry little head pops up over the edge of the box, round eyes peering up at the four of them.
“a dog! yes!” you squeal. “he’s a shelter dog!”
“he is?” hiro is in awe, slowly reaching out to cradle the little guy in his arms.
“i met him the other day when i woke up early and ran errands without you guys. isn’t he just the cutest?” big hands dwarf the small pooch as they gently pet his head and stroke his fur.
“does he have a name?” tooru has the good sense to ask. 
“mhm, the lady at the shelter said his previous owner named him ponyo.”
“ponyo…” issei whispered, eyes shining. 
“i know we’re nowhere near ready to start thinking about kids,” you start, the topic of the conversation instantly drawing their attention. tooru even ignored ponyo’s little tongue lapping at his fingers. “but i thought we could use an addition to our family.” 
“y/n, princess, we obviously all love him already, but we’re busy with work- well, most of us are. who’s gonna take care of him?” hajime questions, almost reluctantly.
“i mean, hiro is home all the time since he’s still unemployed (“i said i was looking, damn!”), but i actually got promoted so my schedule is way more flexible and i can work from home most of the time.” your voice trails off bashfully, but they give you no time to be embarrassed, swallowing you up in a huge hug. 
“why didn’t you say anything sooner, baby? we’re so proud of you!” now you know how the dog felt being smothered by their affection, not that it was anything new for you.
“uhh, surprise?”
“fuck yea, surprise! god, you’re incredible. lemme make a list of things we’ll need to get for ponyo once the stores reopen tomorrow.”
“actually…”
“you didn’t.”
“i did, with help from my best friend.” going into the lowest cupboards in the kitchen, you show off the bag of dog food and water and food bowls you bought soon after visiting the shelter. “his bed and crate are in the other closet by the washroom.”
“how did we get so lucky?” takahiro asks aloud, making you blush as the others nod in sync, all of them blown away by your thoughtfulness.
“this is nothing. i just wanted to show you guys how much i love you.” you play with your fingers, a little overwhelmed now that the initial excitement has worn off. “oh wait!”
“there’s more?” tooru asks, shocked.
“but wait, there’s more!” mattsun and makki chime in simultaneously, making you laugh as you retrieve the last present. you hop over to where tooru was sitting on the sofa with ponyo on his lap, scooping the dog up and locking the two of you in the bathroom. a couple minutes later, you open the door to let ponyo scurry over to his dads, who coo softly once they see him come around the sofa.
“when did you have time to do this?”
“my pants were a little long, so i hemmed them one night after you guys passed out on the sofa watching your old volleyball matches. i kinda guessed ponyo’s measurements based on standard info i found on the internet, but it fits perfectly so i’m glad!” looking at the little sweater you made for your new family member out of the extra fabric from your pj pants, you couldn’t stop the pleased grin that broke out on your face. “now even ponyo matches with us!”
while your gaze was trained on the tiny dog that was exploring his new home, theirs were stuck on you, your resemblance with a proud mother struck something in them, giving them thoughts of you with their children. yes, children. but for now they shoved those images to the backs of their minds, meeting each other’s stares to confirm they were all in silent agreement.
“we’re gonna make breakfast, you just sit there ‘n look pretty while you watch ponyo, yea?” issei announces before pulling you into a searing kiss as he walks by. 
“not that that’s hard for you,” iwa tags on, kissing your cheek and ruffling your hair following mattsun into the kitchen.
“but i’m always hard for you.” you yelp when hiro playfully slaps your ass, flipping him off as he trails after the other two with a loud hoot. tooru comes up behind you and rubs your sore cheek, spinning you around so that you were face to face.
“why’d you do this to me, y/n-chan?” you meet his frown with a confused look of your own. “now it’s gonna be even harder for me to go back to argentina.”
“oh, tooru,” you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to bring him close. “you have the next few weeks to spend with us and our new baby.” as if he knew you were talking about him, ponyo pads over to sit by your feet, tail wagging. oikawa sighs melodramatically.
“a few weeks is nothing compared to the months i’ll be gone!” 
“oi, shittykawa, you better not be complaining after everything this morning,” hajime hollers from the kitchen.
“love you, too, iwa-chan!” tooru calls back instinctively then he looks back down at you, his eyes giving away how much leaving will hurt him and it nearly makes you tear up with him.
“tooru, baby, it sucks every time you leave us, but you’re following your dreams and doing what you love. and we want to support you all the way, even if it means doing so from across the world. but with my new work schedule, i’ll be able to call or text you pretty much whenever. and just think how much sweeter it’ll be the next time you do come home to us. so don’t be too sad, okay, my love? we’ll all be here waiting for you.” 
as the last words leave your lips, tooru has you pulled flush against him, arms wrapped tight around your body. his face was hidden, but you could feel the sobs in hot breaths against your shoulder. you guided him over to the sofa and let him cry, petting his hair and peppering kisses on his tear-streaked face until he tired himself out. 
issei, hajime, and takahiro come out of the kitchen with stacks of pancakes and all the fixings, setting them down on the coffee table in front of you once they see tooru snoozing in your lap. iwa picks ponyo up before he could get a bite of your breakfast while you gently shake your boyfriend awake. mattsun and makki set up ponyo’s crate and bedding, leaving him with a toy to keep him occupied while the five of you filled up your plates.
sitting in the living room of the apartment you shared with your four boyfriends on christmas day, stuffing your face with fruit and whipped cream topped pancakes that they made, in matching pajamas with your new rescue dog scampering about, you couldn’t ask for a better gift underneath the tree.
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forever-rogue · 3 years
Note
“we’re just…friends.” “friends don’t do this type of shit!” FRANKIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You asked for some Frankie and you get some angsty Frankie, babeyyy. Did I loosely base this off an experience in my own life? Maybe. But this one has a much better ending. Enjoy!
Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader
Warnings: none
»»————- ♡ ————-««
What was supposed to be a simple shopping trip ended up being a lot more than you had bargained for. You’d gone shopping for Christmas decorations with Frankie, aka your best friend, also aka the love of your life. Except he didn’t know that, and he would never know.
Above all else, he was your best and oldest friend and you didn’t want to lose everything you had with him, and if that meant suppressing your feelings and staying quiet, then you were willing to do. You’d rather have him as just a friend, than nothing at all. And you were sure that he would never like you back. Why would he?
But as you looked around the shelves of the home goods store, chatting away excitedly as you both sipped your hot cocoa, you felt fine, everything was fine. Until he ran into her. His latest girlfriend, aka a girl you just inherently despised, but had no real reason to. She was kind, albeit not a fake way, and friendly, having been more than kind to you on the times you’d met her. She was pretty, fun, and it was easy to see why Frankie had fallen for her; she seemed to make him genuinely happy. Of course she’d chosen today to come to the store at the same time, and he’d greeted and chatted with her for a moments before turning his attention back to you.
You’d tried to pretend everything was fine, in reality it was, and nothing was changed. Something within you had snapped. It had completely broken you were suddenly heartbroken. There was something about the moment, about today, that had you realize just how much you loved him. How much your chest ached at the thought of him, and how you would never having anything more.
And maybe it was time...to let it go. You didn’t want to constantly feel like this, or harbor these jealous feelings any time he’d have a girlfriend, or more. It wasn’t fair to him, or to you. You either laid it all on the table, or you had to walk away. You just knew you couldn’t do it anymore.
“Bee?” Frankie’s soft warm voice reached your ears as you looked at the small little bee ornament displayed on the tree. It had made you smile when you’d seen it initially, especially since that been Frankie’s nickname for you since you were kids, “is everything okay?”
“Y-yeah,” you took your hand away from it and blinked a few times in order to keep your tears at bay before taking a step back. You looked at those eyes, those soft brown eyes, before making a hasty decision, “I, um, I have to go to.”
“What?” he asked, confusion visibly crossing his features, “what do you mean? We just got here and we’ve still got plans-”
“I know, I just remembered that I have to go,” you lied as you tried to offer him a small smile, “I’m so sorry, Frankie.”
“I drove,” he reminded you, “let me give you a ride to wherever you need at least.”
“No, it’s okay,” you had your back to him, a few tears spilling down your cheeks as you kept your back to him, “I’ll get an Uber or something-”
“Bee-”
“Goodbye, Frankie,” you interrupted him before he could go on, rushing out of the small shop as you started to sniffle and cry, not even bothering to hold it back anymore. You knew, the remaining logical part of you knew, that it wasn’t exactly fair to do this to him either without some sort of explanation, but you couldn’t do it. Not right now anyway....maybe one day.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
One day had turned into several days and several days into weeks.
You hadn’t meant to let it get this far, but once it started you couldn’t stop it. Days were spent wallowing and crying, feeling sorry for yourself even though you had brought at least part of this yourself.
And Frankie? Poor Frankie. He was seemingly just as distraught as you were. He had called and texted nearly everyday, checking in on you, asking if you were okay, but everything went unanswered. He even came over in the evenings after work and you feigned sleeping or that you weren’t home. He even came by your office and asked about you, but you had politely declined his visit.
You were being a terrible, awful jerk and you knew it. You just couldn’t handle being around him at all right now. It was all too much and not even at the same time. But he was persistent, damn persistent and he wasn’t about to let you walk out of his life. Not without a good reason.
So one evening, after he was off work, he came straight over to your house, sitting down on the porch and waiting for you to get home. He was done waiting for answers. It had caught you so off guard that you panicked and didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like you could just hide or run away; no, it was time to face you demons.
Swallowing thickly, you climbed out of your car and slowly made your way over to him, offering him the ghost of a smile as he looked at you with red rimmed eyes. Shit. You hadn’t meant to do this to him. He looked just as nervous as you as he clutched a small box in his large hands.
“Frankie, what are you doing here?” you attempted to side step him, but it was no use. He was on his feet in a flash and blocked your way to the door, “Frankie...”
“Why have you been ignoring me?” there was a crack and a shake to his voice as you allowed yourself to meet his eyes, “you ran out on me and then have been ignoring me for three weeks. Bee, what’s wrong? Did I do something?”
“Frankie,” you already felt the warm, familiar sting behind your eyes as you realized this was happening. It had to, after all, at one point or another. There had been no way that Frankie was going to let anything go, “please don’t do this. Not now...”
“Then when?” he asked as you stared at your feet and shrugged, “my best friend, and the best damn thing in my life just walks away and says nothing and you except me to just accept it?”
“I...we’re just friends,” you stated as he avoided looking at his eyes. If there was any time to go ahead and spill it all and pour your heart out, it was now. You took a long breath and steadied yourself, “and I don’t know if I can do that anymore...I don’t know if we can be friends anymore.”
“We’ve been friends for almost thirty years,” he let out a small, bitter laugh, “and you want to just stop? For no reason?”
“I have a reason,” you wiped away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, warm and salty as ever, “I can’t be just friends with you, Frankie. Friends don’t do this type of shit, all the things we do. How we are, how we seem...it’s not just friends. You and I both know it, and I know you only see me as a friend. And I can’t keep doing it.”
“What do you mean we’re just friends?” he asked softly as you held up your hands in frustration, “please just say what you want to say. I-I’ve been worried sick about you for weeks, at least be honest. And if then you still decide you want nothing to do with me, I’ll respect that.”
“Frankie, I...I’m in love with you,” the words came out surprisingly easy. They’d been on the tip of your tongue, as you always seemed to dance around them, for years. And now they were out, on the line just like your heart, “and I don’t just mean I love you, but I’m in love with you. Actual love.”
“D-do you mean it?”
“Yes,” you nodded slowly, “and that’s why I had to walk away...you deserve happiness Frankie, we all do, and you seem so happy with Ashley, and she seems so kind, but I can’t help but harbor negative feelings for her. Because she has what I want...you. And it’s not fair to you or her or me to feel that way and still hang around. It’s no one’s fault, it’s just the nature of the beast. But I think it’s best if we...just didn’t hang out for a while so I can get my own feelings in check and see if I can be just friends with you.”
“I broke up with Ashley,” he admitted as your jaw dropped and you raised your eye in confusion. He nodded at the the surprise on your face, “the day after you ran out on me.”
“What? Why? You seemed so happy together...”
“She was great,” he admitted softly, “and she was very kind and understanding when I told her I couldn’t be with her anymore. She said she’d kind of felt it coming for a while.”
“Oh. Oh. Why? What happened?” you asked as he was now the one to avoid your eyes.
“Nothing happened so to speak,” he confessed, “she asked if I was in love with you and I said yes. I have been for a long time...she said it was obvious. I don’t know...it just hit me. I’d always known, but something changed that day, and I really knew. I decided it was time to tell you too. I don’t want to spend a single day without you, Honey Bee.”
“Frankie...” you looked up and saw that he was crying now too, his cheeks flushed pink as he waited for you to say something, anything. In his haste, he held up the box to you, which you slowly took and gently unwrapped. Inside was the pretty little bee ornament you’d been eyeing at the shop. You cradled it delicately in your hand as you looked up at him, regretting walking away without a word, regretting almost losing him completely, “it’s the one I was looking at it. You got it for me?”
“Of course,” he slowly reached up and put his hand on your cheek, gently stroking your soft skin, “a little bee for my sweet bee.”
“Do you mean it, Frankie?” you keened into his touch as clutched the bee to your chest, “because I don’t want you to say it unless you really mean it.”
“I do,” he promised gently, “the only thing I regret is not saying it a long time ago.”
“Me too,” you agreed, “I’m sorry for walking away like that ignoring you. I shouldn’t have just left.”
“I wouldn’t have let it go without a fight.”
“Good,” you beamed at him, “I love you, Frankie.”
“I love you, Honey Bee,” the two of you just grinned at each other like fools, “can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“May I kiss you?”
“Please.”
So he did. Finally.
Frankie finally kissed you. And it was everything and then some that you had always wanted and dreamed of.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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bl00dgutsgl0ry · 3 years
Text
A Childhood Promise
Pairing - Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax x Reader
Warnings - None I don’t think
Word Count - 2.5k
Other Comments - I hate posting on Tumblr I’m not gonna lie to you guys. Trying to get this shit to post has been so hard. Please I just want a crumb of recognition tumblr. Let people see my posts.
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      Life used to be so simple when you were younger. You had a lovely close knit family, you went to a great school, you had great friends. All around you were a happy little kid. The best thing you will ever remember from your childhood was your best friend Ajax. Everything was so simple.
Ajax was the poster child of a “perfect kid”. He was well liked by his teachers and peers, he had superb grades, he was becoming a young prodigy in his combat class, and above all, he was your all time best friend. You two were inseparable ever since you had met when your parents had all gotten to know each other once at an event.
     No one ever really saw one of you without the other, and if they ever did come across such a sight, it would never last long. You two also almost went through the entirety of school being in the same class, and if you weren’t, Ajax would always find a way to catch you right as you were being dismissed. You two had the most innocent yet cliché childhood friendship, as you two played with each other or hung out day after day.
     “One day (y/n) I’m going to marry you! I promise!” Ajax enveloped you in a hug as the two of you giggled.
     This lasted for quite some time, that was until Ajax had turned eighteen. His combat skills had skyrocketed since his adolescent classes and competitive matches. Combat came like second nature to him, and that didn’t go by unnoticed. Very quickly Ajax got an offer for a job, one that he would never tell you details about. You remember the shock that enveloped you when Ajax excitedly spouted the good news to you.
     You didn’t know whether to be happy or sad. You wanted to be happy for your childhood friend because this was an amazing offer for him, and an incredible opportunity to keep growing. But on the other hand you wanted to be sad because you knew you would see him less and less as time went on, not only that but you were still just so uncertain about this job. Ajax never withheld information about what was going on in his life until now; what if he got himself into something awful? Nonetheless you quickly plastered a shocked and excited expression on your face, as you rambled different forms of congrats and praise for being so good. Before Ajax left to go back to his home you gave him the tightest hugged and made him promise to stay close. Ajax was floored that you valued your friendship with him so much you would make him promise something he would never give up.
     Time had passed and you noticed yourselves slowly drifting apart. It went from calling each other less, to only texting, then to texting less until you guys barely talked. You understood Ajax was busy, but it still stung seeing you what you thought would’ve been your life long friend slowly forget about you. That was until you had received something in the mail with a very familiar name on it. Ajax.
     A small black box containing what looked to be a hand made scrappily hammered ring along with a letter at the bottom landed on your desk in your bedroom, assuming one of your parents must’ve dropped it off in there. All doubts about Ajax in your mind had been eased as you delicately slid the heavy polished ring on your finger. After you did you giggled in excitement as a delicate pink blush found its way to the tops of your cheeks and ears. You had almost forgotten about the note neatly folded, awaiting to be opened and it’s contents to be discovered.
      You gently unfolded the letter, almost scared that you’d rip it. Inside was the most beautifully written borderline love letter you had ever read, it was almost like romantic poetry, and at the very end was a sentence you wanted to burn into your memory ‘remember that promise?’. Your mind was immediately flooded with all the fond memories you had with Ajax, blushing more and more as you uncovered them. By the end of your daydream session butterflies were fluttering around excitedly in your stomach. You didn’t want to be friends with Ajax anymore. You wanted to love him.
     It had been years since you last heard from him. Not a day has gone by that you haven’t worn the ring Ajax had given you so long ago. You moved away from Snezhnaya after you turned eighteen, now residing in Mondstadt whilst you were going to college; you planned to move back after getting your degree but you made some great friends and the carefree culture of the windy city really called to you. Though after one of your parents' health took a turn for the worst you had made quick plans to go visit with your family.
     It had felt like ages since you last stepped foot out into the familiar icy air, looking around to see the sheets of snow and ice covering the ground. Luckily the streets were plowed, which allowed you to maneuver through the city. Your visit has been great since setting foot in your childhood home. You were happy to be home for the time being, happy to relive the nostalgic moments of your younger days. Everything had changed so much since then. You had barely even thought about Snezhnaya or even Ajax for that matter despite wearing his ring every day, wanting to start fresh when you left for college.
      You suddenly realized you had let your head drop accidentally dozing off, jerking yourself out of melancholy memories. You decided it was probably jet lag, but it was far too early to go to sleep so coffee sounded like a good solution. You remembered an old coffee shop you used to study at whilst you were in high school, that was conveniently within walking distance to your house. With a quick five minute walk to the outdoor shops that littered the local streets you lived by, you located the coffee shop taking a minute to stare at the outside. It hadn’t changed at all.
     Smiling to yourself you walked in and politely ordered a coffee before sitting down at a high table by the window. The stand for the table had a heater built in, keeping you warm as you looked out the thin glass shielding you from the icy winds. You took in the old streets, smiling as you once again lost yourself in the nostalgia of everything. You hadn’t noticed a strikingly tall ginger walk into the shop, and you also hadn’t noticed the considerably loud gasp and call of your name. You only noticed the man's presence when he tapped on your table, causing you to jolt and promptly turn in his directly. It took you a minute to realize who you were staring at.
     “(Y/n)? What the hell are you doing here?” Ajax. There he stood, at the side of you bent over at the hips slightly so he wasn’t completely towering over you. Ajax didn’t want to see you here. He didn’t want to see you at all. You were still fresh in his mind just like you were the last day he had seen you. He missed you. His eyes fell to your hand where he saw the ring he had made and sent to you still on your finger after all these years.
     Your face was almost unrecognizable after all the time that passed, you had grown so much since then. Something unsettled Ajax about your demeanor, you were like an open book to him when you guys were younger as you wore your heart on your sleeve. Looking at you now though, there was no glimpse at the emotions you were feeling in this moment. Were you happy to see him again, since you wore his ring? Were you upset with him breaking his promise? Ajax couldn’t tell as you stared blankly at him for what seemed like ages, giving it enough time to make the air solidify and turn stale and uncomfortable. You finally shook yourself out of this trance you were in, as you suddenly stood up.
     “Wha- Hey, wait a minute (y/n)! What are you doing here?” You didn’t acknowledge Ajax’s voice, subliminally yearning to fall into his strong arms. You were upset. How dare he ask you what you’re doing here. You weren’t the one who had completely abandoned everyone in your life for some sketchy job. You grabbed your coffee before swiftly beginning to exit. Something in Ajax was different. He didn’t really take kindly to you ignoring him, as you felt a vice like grip grab onto your wrist, causing you to flinch and whip around to angrily rip your arm out of his grasp.
     “Don’t touch me Ajax! How dare you have the audacity to ask me what I’m doing here! This was my home! I didn’t abandon everyone I knew and loved on some sketchy ass whim!” Ajax stared at you. Were you joking?! Some ‘sketchy ass whim’?! You supported him when he first told you!
     “What the hell is wrong with you (y/n)?!” Your eyes narrowed as you grit your teeth, you grip on your coffee tightening. Without even thinking you threw it in his face.
     “What’s wrong with me?! You’re so fucked up Ajax! We were best friends and then you completely vanish from reality! You promised me we would stay close!” Now it was time for Ajax to grit his teeth. So you were upset with him about that.
     “(Y/n) that was years ago!! We grew up! That was just a stupid childish promise!” As soon as those words left Ajax’s mouth, he went silent as his eyes widened in horror at his on voice. The entire coffee shop was silent as they all watched your argument break out. Ajax didn’t mean to say that, he knew he had fucked up his promise with you and he hated himself for it; he just didn’t know how to explain what he was doing without scaring you off or pushing you away. Turns out he was already doing that by vanishing. He wanted you to forget about him, he knew that when he took the job to join the Fatui and serve the Tsaritsa he would never be able to give you what you deserved. A normal and happy relationship. Ajax was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a sniff and realized you were beginning to cry.
     “Ah… So that’s what it was. Just a way to get me to get off your back. I suppose the ring served the same purpose? Whatever Ajax, you’ve changed and I don’t ever wanna see you again.” You quickly ripped the ring off before throwing it in the trash as you stormed out, trying not to audibly cry, as you had already embarrassed yourself enough in that shop. Ajax stood statuesque still. Holy shit he had made everything so much worse. He sighed before snapping out of his position to grab some napkins, to hopefully dry himself off before venturing back outside. He had to fix this.
     It had been a couple days since your argument with Ajax and you were in shambles. This could not have come at a worse time. You were just happy that this Gods awful trip was coming to an end soon. You sighed as you flipped onto your back in your childhood bedroom, trying to reminisce on the old memories you had here, but all of them had gotten tainted by Ajax. He had ruined everything for you. You regretted everything with him, with getting so close to him. Tears had started to well up in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away before they had gotten the chance to fall. You hadn’t noticed before, but there was this weird tapping sound coming from your window; which caused you to anxiously investigate. You pulled your curtains back to be greeted with Ajax, who looked at you sheepishly. You blankly stared at him for a moment before closing the curtains and going back to lay on your bed, trying your hardest to ignore Ajax’s protests and calls of your name. After a while everything had gone silent, until your door opened and Ajax emerged one again.
     “Uh… I’m sorry about coming into your room uninvited but one of your parents called me inside and said I could just come in. In hindsight I probably should’ve knocked before coming in and-”
     “What the hell do you want Ajax.” You cut off the young man's babbling without looking at him, you were on your side laying down on your bed with your back facing him.
     “I wanted to make everything up to you. I want to explain everything and I want to tell you about my job finally.” Ajax was hopeful that you would allow him the opportunity to explain himself.
     “No. Now get out of my house.” Ajax’s heart sunk. No… No no no you had to let him explain himself, he needed to explain. He needed you.
     “Please (y/n) I know you don’t owe me anything, not even your time, but please I owe you this.” You sighed, before slowly sitting up and facing him finally. You stared at him for a moment before speaking.
     “Fine. But you have two minutes, so you better speak quickly.” Ajax’s heart fluttered. He spent those two minutes exactly, explaining everything that happened. You were silent for the most part, staring at your hand and you fiddled with your fingers. Ajax waited anxiously for your response. When you didn’t give him anything he took this as a sign to move onto faze two of his apology. For the last couple of days he had been running all over Snezhnaya spending preposterous amounts of mora. He had presented you with flowers and food; but above all he presented you with a ring.
     “That is one promise that I am going to keep true. Please (y/n) forgive me and make me the happiest man in the world and marry me.” You stared at him with large eyes and Ajax took a hold of one of your hands and gently slid the beautiful ring onto your ring finger. Tears once again began to well up in your eyes, and suddenly your arms were wrapped around his torso as you cried into his chest. You missed this. He still felt the same way he did when you hugged him last, he even smelled the same.
     “Is that… A yes?” You nodded furiously, face still buried deep in his chest. You were willing to forgive him, but above all, you were willing to love him again.
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gotnofucks · 4 years
Text
Ball’s In Your Court
Paring: Steve Rogers x Reader, (platonic tony x reader)
Summary: Steve and Y/n have been playing games for years. But now that Rogers is acting like a little bitch, Y/n throws him a curve ball that will either make them or break them.
Words: 2.7k
Warning: None man. Its fluff and angst. Language (?)
A/N: I was experimenting with the third person P.O.V for reader. Hope it’s to your liking.
MASTERLIST
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For as long as Steve could remember, their life together had been a game; bet after bet, challenge after challenge. He had met her when she was just entering her teens, a little girl with a lost wild look in her eyes. She was in all respects Tony’s daughter, rescued by him from the wreckage of his own weapons. He had almost done a double take when Tony had introduced her to the team.
“This is Y/n, she will stay with us from now”
The compound was not used to the pitter patter of little feet or their furniture appearing embellished overnight. She had lost everything, including it seemed herself. So, their first game ironically had been Hide and Seek. She was small and he lost count of how many times she had bested him by crawling under the cramped spaces of desks or vents (Thanks for teaching her that, Barton).
When Tony had complained about the hundredth time that she just wouldn’t eat, Steve would challenge her that whoever finished their breakfast first could choose the movie for tonight. When she refused to let them leave for missions, he would challenge her to a game of cards. She was too young to win against him but her stubborn streak never turned down a game.
Their every interaction had been a game. They could get each other to do anything by playing chess or softball or a game of Horse that drove everyone else up the wall. He got her to open up about school bullies by besting her at Pictionary and she had effectively gotten him to shut up about healthy food by kicking his ass at video games. They dealt with drama via games (Whoever tosses the least paper balls in the bin tells Bruce we fucked his experiment ), they dealt with humor via games (let’s see who can manage to steal Nat’s gun without getting caught), they dealt with grief via game (if you beat me at Heads Up I’ll let you choose the gravestone).
Growing up, she was Tony’s daughter and Steve’s best friend. While Tony raised her, Steve gossiped with her. They were pals and all was fun and games until she grew up from a little girl into a young woman. Steve didn’t know when things changed but the first he noticed it was when she had run into his arms bawling because some idiot boy broke her heart. It was when he found himself conflicted between anger at the boy and jealousy that this shit started.
He had tried, he had really tried to keep it in check. He had tried to keep up with their game’s night ritual, their silly bets and ridiculous challenges. He had tried his best to be a friend, but this was one challenge he lost. She was no more the 14-year-old girl asking him questions for her history project or the 16-year-old nightmare who would put cockroaches in his bed as revenge. This was a young woman in her 20s with curves for days and an attitude that raised hell. It was a classic falling for your best friend story (if only he weren’t old enough to be her dad or was her dad’s best friend).
He had of course been under the impression that he was being subtle about his change in feelings. He tried not to stare when they went out for a swim, he resisted the urge to lick her lips after a nacho eating contest. He was trying so fucking hard, but as anyone could have told him, “Steve, you don’t have a subtle bone in your body, you frisbee throwing maniac”. She was Tony Stark’s daughter; she was not raised to be stupid. She was smart and observant and almost as quick a study as her father. It was no surprise then that she figured out what had Steve so wound up around her.
Maybe it would have creeped her out had it been anyone else, but Steve was her person. He was her one constant, from kissing her boo-boos to getting her home after she drank herself silly, Steve was there. It shouldn’t have surprised Steve so much then when she cornered him one evening and planted a wet one smack on his mouth with a muttered, “This sexual tension it killing me, gotta do something about it because you won’t”.
He wished he could say he clutched her body to his and dragged her to his room for a wild night of passion. But in reality, he chickened out like a bitch and ran away. Not just from her, but he completely disappeared from the compound for two weeks. When he came back, it was with the intentions of telling her they couldn’t do it, it was wrong and a betrayal to Tony. But Steve needn’t have worried because he came back to the compound to find her introducing the team to her boyfriend.
As far as others know, Steve didn’t deliberately break those glasses that night or push the idiot boy in the pool. It was an accident, and if such accidents kept happening around men she dated then it was purely coincidental.
It was a new kind of game they played then, a more dangerous one and if one’s being honest, a very sensual game. She would date someone; he would scare them away. One of them will find the other, have a passionate make out session, probably end up straddling the other on a desk and then one of them will get up and leave with the same lie “This can’t happen again”. Repeat.
Gone were the days of challenges and competitions, in its place was a sexually charged game of Tag. A cat and mouse game where they always chased each other, touching fleetingly before retreating again. Neither would be the one to make a commitment, neither would concede to being the person who would put their hearts on the line. They were two bulls who were made to butt heads (who occasionally took time off to play a quick game of tonsil-hockey).
Steve had known there had to be an end to this. It had gone on for so long that he could bet other people suspected some shit. He had honestly expected for Tony to sucker punch him half a dozen times by now. Right now, he would have taken those punches to the news she had just given to the team.
“I am getting married!” She announced, offering her left hand so others can admire the gorgeous diamond ring that sat on her ring finger. She looked happy, absolutely radiant and it was all Steve could do to stop himself from dragging her out of here by her hair and throwing that offending ring into the garbage chute. What the fuck kind of game was she playing?
He waited until everyone was asleep before he broke into her room. Well, breaking into would suggest it was forced but truly only him and Tony had the authorization to enter. Their relationship may have changed from ‘you’re my best friend’ to ‘I want to be your best lay’, but they still knew each other the best and cared just as much as before, if not more.
She was under the covers in her bed, a small nightlamp on. It had been a while since Steve had been in her room and it was like taking a big gulp of nostalgia. Her room was her sanctuary, so it reflected her heart’s desires. Every surface of the room was littered with one of their memories together. Her pinboard was still holding the notes he would write to her in school, the birthday cards he made himself and the portraits he would sketch for her. On her desk stood the numerous gifts he had gotten her, each well taken care of despite the years between. Right beside her on the cabinet was a picture of them together, both of them holding hands and smiling at each other in what could only be called as “lovesick smitten idiots”.
He was cautious as he lowered himself next to her on the bed, her face so peaceful he felt like he would taint it by his touch and presence. He had looked at her for years, sketched her details hundreds of times and yet each time he beheld her, he felt his heart skip a beat. She was a memory that he tried to forget and yet it emerged every time he closed his eyes. She was in his skin, a part of him in a way that defied all laws of nature and social customs.
“Are you going to keep staring at me and be the creep from Twilight or do you plan on getting inside?”
Her voice made him jump because she hadn’t opened her eyes. She was smiling that lazy smile of hers when she would catch his bluff in poker. He chuckled and shifted the sheets, climbing under them and curling his body around her. It may as well have been cliché to say that they fit like a puzzle, but it was true. They were molded to fit against each other perfectly, like that lid you close over a box and the satisfying ‘tick’ sound it makes when it clicks into place. That’s what being with her felt like. Fitting in. Coming home.
“Why are you doing this Y/n?” Steve asked and she pushed her body into his so he could hug her tighter.
“Because you won’t do anything Steve. We’ve been running around in circles for so long now, and every time I think that finally we’ll be together, you abandon fort and run. I can’t do this anymore.”
Steve took her left hand and watched her ring twinkle in a taunt. It could have been him. It should be him.
“Don’t marry him. He will never give you what you want.”
“I know that Steve, no one can give me what they want because they aren’t you. But I can’t keep waiting for you in the sidelines hoping you’ll pull your head out of your ass. I want to be loved, preferably in this life.”
His arms were like tentacles around her, but she didn’t complain. Every embrace and moment between them was so fleeting, a stolen moment that she enjoyed what she could get. This was probably the longest in a few years that they had held each other without one running for the hills.
“I love you, you know that.” He whispered in her ear, longing evident in his voice.
“I know that, as much as I know that you won’t do shit about it. Loving someone is not always enough Steve. It’s just the beginning. I – I won’t keep my love a secret. I don’t want ten angry sensual minutes in the broom closet. I want walks in the park and two dogs and a cat. I want picnics with our family and pictures that are not restricted to my room. You can’t give me that. You won’t.”
She had run out of tears. Her fiancé may not be Steve Rogers but at least he was an honest man who tried his best to love her the way she deserved. She had met his family and they had met hers; they could post pictures on social media with cheesy captions and hold hands as they drank coffee from a cheap corner place.
“You can never love anyone like you love me” It was a sulky declaration by a hurt lover and she almost cooed to him like a mommy consoling her baby. Steve may have been older to her in years, but when it came to love he was an immature brat.
“That may be true, but I will try. I am not Penelope waiting in the balcony for Odysseus to return. I love you, and that love may never fade away. But my life will go on. It is your choice if you want to be a part of it.”
She faced him, her eyes open and clear. He didn’t know when the little girl who needed help to reach the jar on the shelf had grown up in this headstrong woman who could beat a sailor when it came to cursing. But he couldn’t bear the thought of her staying like this in someone else’s bed, looking at them the way she looked at him. Steve rarely coveted something in his life, but he didn’t realize until now how much he coveted her love. If he lost that, he feared he would lose himself.
“Your father is going to kill me” Steve groaned, and she laughed. Her head was on his chest and an arm around his torso.
“We can elope, you know. Run away and get married. It will be too late to do anything then. You’ll be stuck with me.”
“Did you just propose to me?” Steve questioned and she nodded, her eyes naughty.
“I’m always a step ahead of you Captain. I figured you would take another month at least to ask and I have wasted too much time already.” She whispered against his lips. He leaned up to kiss her deeply, unhurried for the first time. It was like their first kiss all over again, like two star-crossed lovers smashing through their final obstacle and uniting. Steve didn’t know how he had survived so long without having her like this, but as his hands found her soft curves, he swore he can’t go a day without it.
“Stop stop!” She said, pushing his chest and rolling away from him. “We’ve waited this long. You’re not getting your dick wet until you finally commit to me.”
Steve looked more dumbfounded than offended and responded by finally taking off the ring on her finger and throwing it away carelessly.
“I’ll steal the Quinjet, meet me in the hanger in half an hour. Don’t pack shit. We’ll make one stop for the rings and get the first officiant I can find to marry us. We’ll probably be back by breakfast. And then,” His arm wound around her waist “I will lay rest to the sexual tension of years by getting my dick wet. Repeatedly.”
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It was to be expected that Tony’s daughter wouldn’t do anything halfway through. A flair for dramatics was her inheritance and she and Steve walked into the compound newly married in rumpled night clothes and shit eating grin. They found everyone eating in the kitchen, and greetings stopped halfway when the rest of the team noticed their clasped hands.
“What the fuck…” Bruce said, half eaten celery dangling from his open mouth.
Y/n flashed them her award-winning smile and showed the matching rings on her and Steve’s hand. It was a riot under a minute, chairs scraping as they crowded them, trying to see if it was a joke. Then just as suddenly everyone stopped and Tony stepped forward, a spatula in his hand that to Steve looked as threatening as a gun.
“You sick son of a bitch!” Tony shouted and Steve flinched. He looked at Y/n but all she did was wear a smug look on her face that should be illegal in about three continents. “You little bitch! You are supposed to be from the 90s! You were supposed to ask her hand from me like a gentleman you sick little fuck!”
Steve blinked in confusion while she laughed, hopping like a little girl to hug her father.
“Pay up, daddy! You owe me 500 bucks.” She said and Tony groaned, pulling out his wallet and handing her crisp five 100s.
“I – what? What happened?” Steve sputtered, still surprised he wasn’t being beaten by the Iron Legion.
“You weren’t supposed to elope you bastard. Always knew chivalry was dead!” Tony huffed then went back to cooking. “Congratulations by the way. Fucking finally. I’m not surprised my girl had to do everything anyway. She’s taken after me.”
This was a plot twist Steve never expected and he looked at his new wife with a look of horror on his face that could only be translated to as ‘what the fuck have I gotten myself into’.
“I told you baby, I’m always a step ahead of you.” She said, trying and failing to blush like a bride.
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Text
Happy Valentines Day!
Request: Hey since tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, think we can have a Rottmnt special? Like crush made them homemade chocolate and shyly gives it to them? ✨✨ pretty please! 🙏
Pairing: All, Non-Poly. (Raphael, Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, & April O’Neil.) 
Content Warnings: None! Except for swearing?? I don’t know if people still tag for swears or not </3 
Word Count: 1658
You thank the universe that nobody could hear your heartbeat, for if they could, the world would surely fall apart at the intensity of its beats. Your face burns hot, and your body shakes with each step you take. You pray to every deity you can think of that you don’t drop the chocolate you stayed up all night making. Pan after pan and recipe after recipe lead you to this moment, finally finding the perfect concoction. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. No, it is perfect! Right? Fuck, what’s the backup plan if he doesn’t like it? Should you scrap it? Should you have brought some for everyone? You’re so lost in your thought, you hardly recognize your surroundings as you step into the lair. An enthusiastic “hey!” from your friends seals your fate: there’s no turning back now. No second-guessing.
You’re gonna give it to them. 
Raphael:
He’s so excited!! Chocolate? For him? From his crush?
He actually has to ask if you’re serious first, he can’t help it. Like really? Ethereal you made him homemade chocolate? He has to be dreaming.
“Are you sure you’re not confusing me for someone else? Not that I’m saying I don’t want it! Wait hold on, this isn’t coming out right-”
Raph what other giant, anthropomorphic snapping turtles do we know???
He smiles so big when you manage to stammer out that yes, this is for him, and he cradles the package so gently too. He’s such a sweetheart.
He actually made you something too!
He puts the box down gently before going to his room to grab it.
It’s a small handmade card with a little bouquet of wildflowers! (White trillium and starflower to be exact. He thought they were really pretty.) The bouquet is tied loosely with a red ribbon, pulled gently into a bow.
He was so nervous about giving it to you, that he actually wasn’t planning to at all! He’s had everything planned for weeks, but his anxiety kept getting the better of him. But getting something from you was exactly the kind of encouragement he needed to take that final leap.
He’s so flustered when he hands it over, and the way his hands shake makes you feel a little less shy. Maybe he does feel the same way?
Two shy dorks in love <3
Leonardo:
Yoo, for real? For him? Hell yeah, thank you!
He’s really confident on the outside. Like, he’s so excited and accepting about it it’s unreal. All of your anxieties melt away, as they tend to do around him, and you can’t even remember why you were so stressed in the first place! It’s Leo, after all.
He’s dying (in a good way) on the inside though. He’s just internally screaming. Holy shit his crush is giving him chocolate? And it’s homemade? Oh my god look at that tiny white chocolate drizzle, that’s so cute!! Is that a strawberry?? MANY thoughts, head FULL, and in LOVE.
(He’s gonna hardcore brag about it to his brothers later.)
His heart is pounding out of his chest, although he doesn’t divulge that information.
He asks you out right then and there. Like!!!
He doesn’t actually say the word “date,” but god. You’re suddenly all shy again, and you can’t do anything but nod furiously.
The date is super casual, (yes its at Hueso’s. He begs him to pull out all of the stops, and he does so, even if only to shut up Leo. Actual king <3)  and it really puts you at ease. At some point he moves to hold your hand, and you can’t help the way your heart leaps into your throat. And he'd be lying if he didn’t feel the same way.
His confession is so eloquent, and yet… dorky. Sweet. Like he’s rehearsed it a million times, trying to find the best possible words to win your heart. Little did he know, he’s always had it.
Donatello:
oh no
He didn’t plan for this. Like, this was literally the one thing he didn’t plan for.
(He has confidence issues, give him a break!! How could he have known that you were going to give him something too? And give it first as well?? Which sets a precedent for the gift he gives?? Social interactions are Awful and he’s in Hell.)
He’s still pleasantly surprised though!
He kind of short-circuits for a moment, and he’s completely deadpan for at least three seconds. It’s the worst couple seconds of your life. Then he comes back to reality and thanks you super genuinely.
(It’s hard to read him at the best of times, and this is. So much. He just doesn’t know what to do with himself!!!)
He takes his time looking at every detail on the chocolates, and your anxiety dies down as you see the softest smile grace his features. It’s so genuine, and you don’t even think he knows he is smiling, so it’s really reassuring.
You take the time to really study his features, and fuck, he’s really pretty. You’re both flustered when you guys come back to reality.
He made you a gift too!! In fact, he has a whole day planned out.
It’s a long and fun day of running around the Hidden City, and at night, in New York.
It’s incredible.
He’s confident, and he says all the right things. He’s had this night planned out for weeks, and fuck if it doesn’t shine through.
At the end of the night, he gives you his gift with averted eyes. It’s a strange contrast to the pure exciting, confident persona he’s been putting on all day.
It’s handmade, and tailored to your exact interests and equipped with his own, Donatello-Style flair.
He’s confident in his tech, and he knows you like the back of his hand, but this is… completely new territory.
Valentine’s Day has never been so perfect.
Michelangelo
He did the same thing, actually!!! So this is actually so perfect for him!!
He spent all night making the perfect chocolates. Most of them are filled, and those that aren’t have some unique, artistic drizzle adorning them. If you hadn’t known better, you would have thought he got them from a fancy chocolate place.
He genuinely can’t contain his excitement when you hand him the box all shyly. His eyes light up with the brightness of a dying star going supernova.
He immediately hugs you, careful not to crush the chocolates, and then his mouth is moving at a mile a minute. It’s almost hard to keep up!! He’s just so happy and excited, and he’s running to the kitchen and he has a box too??? Hello, what’s going on??
He’s trying so hard to not just blurt out a confession here and now.
It’s completely impromptu, but he suggests going out on the town. He didn’t plan it, he was honestly just planning to stay in and watch some movies with you, but now that you’ve brought him a Valentine’s Day gift too? That means you like him too right, maybe?
If he’s gonna confess to you, it’s sure as hell not gonna be in a sewer. (Even if it is his home. It just ain’t right, man!)
It’s really fun! You feel so at home with him, and there’s no pressure at all.
Everything just seems to fall into place around him. He’s your home. Unbeknownst to you, he feels the exact same way.
He confesses by the end of the night. It’s so sweet and sincere, but there isn’t a single moment of hesitation. He’s so head over heels for you, and that love shows itself in every movement and word.
April
She’s never been given chocolates before!! She’s always looked on in envy through middle school, highschool, at work, etc. So fuck, if she’s not immediately swarmed with emotion. She’s like, two seconds away from crying. I love her so much…
It’s actually really funny, because she ordered a really nice bouquet of ivory & pink flowers from her local flower shop for you, but they hadn’t arrived yet! She’s super upfront with it, and it gets a good laugh out of both of you. The classic April O’Neil luck, ey?
It definitely lightens the mood, and she suggests going out to a local restaurant to get lunch, and then maybe go sightseeing! Or maybe just goof around in the Hidden City? No pressure!
It’s super fun! You never want the night to end, to be quite honest.
You get to choose the music while you guys drive around, and you end up picking the silliest stuff. You guys laugh and belt out the lyrics to every song.
The food at the restaurant is perfect, and everything goes off without a hitch. At some point she reaches across the table to interlock fingers with you, and you’re suddenly alight with so much love and recognition that this is an official date, and your best friend - your crush - is holding hands with you, and her hand is so soft and warm and… you’re so in love. And unbeknownst to you, she’s feeling the exact same strain of emotion.
At the end of the night she takes you to a rainy spot in the Hidden City, and you guys dance and sing in the rain.
Everything feels so natural and perfect with her. She’s your safe space, your home, your world.
You can barely stand to part at the end of the night.
When you do get back to your home, you find her gift at your front door. It’s a beautiful bouquet of white Gardenias, pink Carnations, pink Peonies, and… a white Lily. They stand perfectly in a vase, apparently left at your doorstep by the delivery driver. You place them on your kitchen counter as soon as you can, and text her immediately.
You love her with all your heart, and she’s head over heels for you, too.
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veryreallyfuckinbad · 3 years
Text
FIRE AND MOSS // Daryl Dixon X Reader// CHAPTER 4
TW: strong language
You tried your best to fall asleep, you were exhausted. Sleep didn’t come easy; especially not after being on your own for as long as you were. Any shut eye was interrupted by the smallest noise- leaves rustling, water dripping from trees, the gentle flapping of a bird’s wings. Every single noise made you jolt up, ready to pounce on anything that tried to come close to you. You were so used to being alone, with no backup, nobody to look out for you, nobody to care for you that spending the night at a safe place felt strange.
You rolled to your side with a heavy sigh. Your eyes hurt and you were sure you had some horrifying eyebags, too. The sleeping bag felt a little too soft, unlike the hard surface of your tent that you’ve grown so accustomed to, you haven’t laid in a sleeping bag since ‘the shit hit the fan’, as you called it. It seemed more appropriate than calling it ‘the apocalypse’, maybe because you never imagined the apocalypse to be so goddamn ugly, bloody and smelly.
You decided to sit up, knowing that you won’t fall asleep anytime soon. You knew that Jake was outside, but you didn’t know exactly what he was doing. You guessed he was running around camp or went to the forest to hang out- it was his first home, after all. He always came back to you by morning though, so you never worried. You suddenly heard the crackling of a fire and poked your head out your tent- it was Daryl. As soon as your head peeked out of the entrance of your tent, you felt Jake brush his snout against your cheek. He couldn’t sleep either, but didn’t leave to run around. He sat in front of your tent like a guardian, watching Daryl’s every move. You chuckled quietly, trying not to alert the man by the fire of your presence just yet. You studied him- his back was facing you, the wings on his leather vest were clearly visible. He was much bigger than you were- in every sense of the word. Taller, broader, heavier; in other words he was deadly to you, physically speaking. The man was like a puzzle, you couldn’t figure him out. He was watching you for God knows how long and you never even noticed, left you a gift, convinced Rick to take you in, yet he never spoke to you unless you were the one to engage conversation. He seemed rough around the edges but had a strange tenderness to him, and from what you’ve heard from the group, you were the only one to see it.
Deciding to stand up, you stretched a little and made your way over to him and decided to speak first, as not to startle him. “Hey”
His head whipped around to look at you and simply nodded in response, his dark hair falling over his icy eyes. He stared at you, waiting for you to say something else.
“Mind if I join? I can’t sleep” you kneeled next to Jake and gave the foxes’ head a small pat, awaiting Daryl’s response. He looked into your eyes but quickly shifted his gaze on something else and hummed in response. You smiled and took a seat on the opposite side of the small campfire, deciding it’s best to let him have his space. A few minutes of silence passed, you were sure Daryl didn’t mind it but sitting across from him and staring at the fire, occasionally looking up at him felt a bit uncomfortable to you. You cleared your throat and noticed his gaze shift from the fire to you.
“Not to seem ungrateful or anything” you began with a nervous chuckle, “but why did you help me out? Not just in the forest, yesterday too. You helped convince Rick to let me stay.” You grabbed a stick and poked the fire causing embers to fly up into the dark sky. Both you and Daryl took notice of Jake jumping up and trying to catch one in his mouth before it disappeared. Daryl let out a small snort that was gone before you could take it in- it was a completely new sound.
“Didn’t want him to go” he motioned to the fox with a tiny smirk, causing you to giggle. He cleared his throat and continued, which surprised you- this was your first real conversation, even if it was just about Jake. “He do any tricks?”
“Yeah, a couple actually. He can bite your face off if you keep treating him like a dog,” you gave him a playful smile, he returned the favor and mumbled something along the lines of ‘lil’ bastard’ and you went on “or my personal favorite. You got an empty can?” He looked at you with confusion, raising his eyebrows but didn’t say anything as he picked up an empty can of beans from the grass behind the log he was sitting on and threw it to you. You caught it and placed it on the damp grass near your foot, in front of Jake. He instantly put his snout inside, getting stuck.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: Mother Nature’s perfect killing machine” you announced in between chuckles and heard Daryl snort again. He smiled and shook his head while you took the can off Jake’s face. “And before you ask, I have no idea why he does that” you added while ruffling his fur lovingly. Before long, silence fell between you once again, but it was more comfortable this time. You didn’t expect any more conversation from the man- you were surprised with how much you got already, anyway. He looked at you, his face illuminated by the warm glow of the flames. Daryl’s expression was unreadable, it frustrated you that you couldn’t figure out what was going on in his head. He leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees and spoke up.
“Who ‘ere you with before us?” his low voice now sounded more gravelly than usual, he didn’t look at you. Your breath caught in your throat- you have never spoken to anyone about your previous group. Just now, you realized how much you missed them. If it weren’t for Jake and the others, you wouldn’t be where you were right now. They were the ones who taught you to survive, the ones who took you in when all seemed hopeless, they were family. They were family and when you were attacked, you didn’t even fight, you just ran. You realized your eyes were tearing up and looked at the man with nothing but shame, guilt and despair. He couldn’t see you like this, you didn’t want him to pity you or look at you differently, so you stood up. His eyes followed you, he shook his head gently to get the hair out of his face. He glanced at you apologetically, thinking he must’ve done or said something wrong. He didn’t realize you weren’t ready to open up yet.
“Alright” you chuckled sadly, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject, “It’s late, you’d better go to sleep. Jake and I will take watch”
Daryl gently shook his head and eyed you, the pressure of his gaze being much for you in that moment. You turned your back to him and pretended to look up at the star-filled sky. In reality, you tried to hold back the tears forming in your eyes. You didn’t realize that opening up would be so difficult. Deciding its best to hide from the man for the time being, you stepped into your tent. Daryl saw you fumble and shuffle inside, he couldn’t believe that you actually complied. His attention turned back to the fire, he picked up a stick from the ground and began poking the burning wood with it before his head shot up when he heard you step out of the tent with something under your arm- it was too dark to make out what it was. You stepped towards Daryl and sat beside him, your eyes now red and puffy but dry. Wordlessly, you placed the item you were holding in his lap- your sleeping bag. Daryl furrowed his eyebrows and gently touched the soft makeshift mattress with his fingers.
“Can’t sleep on it, it’s too soft for me” you looked at him, hoping he would understand. You saw something change in his eyes when the words left your mouth, like the light he had while joking with you earlier died out completely. Your mouth turned into a thin line, trying your best to give him a smile but you were sure it came out more like a sad-puppy-look than a friendly grin. Enough was enough, you were just making him pity you more. You were an enigma to him- like a puzzle piece from a completely different box. Despite going through the unimaginable, things that you couldn’t even share with him, you never failed to give him that damn smile. The smile that made him wonder whether rescuing you was a good idea- you were dangerous. Not literally, Daryl knew you couldn’t and wouldn’t hurt him. The way you made him feel was dangerous but most of all, it was completely new and utterly confusing. You were like an elusive animal; afraid only when you absolutely needed to be, defensive yet so trusting, so warm and it frustrated him. He could usually read people like open books, but you were the only exception.
You stood up and didn’t miss the way Daryl’s eyes flickering between your face and the sleeping bag in his lap. Jake followed you to the tent, but you stilled before you entered.
“Goodnight, Daryl”
You woke up to Jake’s squeaks and growls coming from outside your tent, growling as you sat up and stretched. Your eyes landed on a small roll right outside of your tent- your sleeping bag. A heavy sigh left your mouth, but you couldn’t even pretend to be mad.
“Stubborn asshole”, you didn’t even notice the smile forming on your face while you cursed Daryl out. You crouched, trying to get out of the tent and almost falling over in the process. The damn thing was small. Once you managed to get out, Jake greeted you, jumping up and standing on his hind legs, his front paws resting on your stomach. You leaned down to press him into yourself gently. “Good morning to you, too. C’mon, let’s go say hi to everyone else.”
When you made your way to the group’s campground, Glenn, Dale, Carl and Maggie walked up to you to greet you while the rest said their hello’s from their seats. You were happy to see them, glad they didn’t disappear overnight. Shit. Last night’s conversation with Daryl hit you harder than you’d thought. The group was having breakfast around a campfire- theirs was much bigger than the one Daryl made. You stared at them, wondering whether you should join. Jake sniffed the air and made it clear he smelled the meat cooking over the fire.
“Are you going to stand there and stare at us or are you gonna join?” Glenn chuckled and bumped Maggie’s shoulder with his own, “Seriously, it’s kinda creepy.”
You apologized and offered them a sheepish smile while taking a seat in between Carl and Maggie. Everyone looked up at you from time to time, which you brushed off- they were probably just curious about Jake, who sat in the space between you and Carl. Maybe they were worried he would attack Carl?
“Alright, what’s up? Now you guys are the ones being creepy.” If you had to take one more weird look, you’d probably die. Or bury yourself underground.
“You’re uh…” Rick began and fumbled over his own words, “there’s a working shower in the house.” Great, Rick. He pointed it out in front of everyone. You were about to get mad but you took a look at yourself for the first time in forever, examining your clothes- they were covered in dirt and grime, not to mention that your face and arms had dried blood all over them.
“Patricia can wash your clothes!” Maggie chimed in, clearly uncomfortable with the silence that fell upon the group. “Eat something and go wash up, I’ll get you some of my clothes for the time being”
You were perfectly content with waiting for Patricia to wash your clothes, hell, you didn’t mind washing them yourself but decided to take the offer- it was a luxury, after all.
Dale cleared his throat and handed you a paper plate with two pieces of meat on it. You thanked him with a smile and gratefully took the food. Without thinking, you grabbed the larger piece and gave it to Jake, watching as he carefully took it from your hand with his teeth while you began chewing your own piece. The taste was familiar, you’ve eaten that meat before. Was it…
“Squirrel?” you asked and noticed Rick staring at you. Dale simply nodded and looked at you with nothing but confusion painted on his face. You were being stared at again. You couldn’t help but chuckle. “What did I do now?”
“I’m pretty sure both of those were for you” Rick smirked and you dipped your head. You couldn’t imagine eating and not sharing it with Jake.
“He’s hungrier than I am” you reassured him with a grin and pat the fox between his ears. Suddenly, something hit you. There’s only one person who can catch squirrels in this group and he wasn’t there.
“Where’s Daryl? There’s no squirrel without Daryl.” It was a joke, but you couldn’t help but worry about him. He was up all night and he went out, he must’ve been exhausted. Maggie smirked and tried to suppress a snort but didn’t manage to. You weren’t sure whether she was laughing at your joke or at how worried you were, but decided to believe it was the former.
“He’s out looking for Sophia, he should be back soon.” Lori tried to sound reassuring but it didn’t make you worry any less. You tried your best not to show your anxiety, the group probably didn’t know why you’d be worried about him. They were asleep while he took watch, making sure everyone was safe.
“I’m going on a run later today. You wanna join?” Maggie asked, kneeling in front of you. You felt Jake tense at how close she got. You didn’t expect it- they trusted you instantly, while they had no reason to. You couldn’t believe it, but you quickly accepted the offer.
Once you finished your meal, you headed to the house to take your fist shower since the apocalypse began. Of course there was the occasional bath in a river or lake but nothing could compete with a warm shower, with soap too. Maggie led you to the bathroom and smiled at you before you shut the door.
“New clothes will be right outside the door on the floor!” her voice was muffled through the closed door. You shouted back a quick ‘thank you!’ before you were about to step in the shower, but something stopped you. A mirror. You looked in the reflection and didn’t recognize the person staring back at you. Your once lively eyes were now sunken down. Your cheekbones were more visible and your hair was matted and tangled. You found a brush in one of the drawers and began combing it out as quickly as you could- the shower couldn’t come soon enough. Once you were done working on your hair, you stepped into the cold, ceramic bathtub and smiled as you turned the tap and felt warm water wash over you. It was an incredible feeling- the blood and gore washing off your skin, cleansing you of the horrors outside of the farm. You ran your hands along your once smooth skin- it was now bumpy and covered with scars. They were nothing but reminders of the battles you’ve won. The pleasant smell of raspberry-scented soap filled your lungs. It was sweet and reminded you of the world before everything fell apart; sweet and tender, but stung like hell if it got into your eyes.
You closed your eyes and simply enjoyed the moment. It felt purifying. All of the pain, sorrow and grief washing off you and disappearing in the drain. The only thing the warm water couldn’t wash off was the moss that grew on your heart, almost engulfing it whole. Love was a tricky thing, it always was, but in this world it was even worse. You were unable to bring yourself to open up to the group about who you were with before, even about your pitiful life before the ‘shit hit the fan’. You didn’t want to think about your disgusting past relationships, the men you were with being the reason as to why you flinched and ducked whenever someone raised their hand at you or touched you without announcing themselves first. You only allowed yourself to cry in moments like these- alone and comfortable, always afraid of people seeing you cry. Perhaps that’s why you and Jake bonded almost instantly- your hearts were covered in moss.
You quickly opened the bathroom door and dragged your new clothes in. It was a nice outfit; a black tank top and a pair of jeans that was cut with scissors to be knee-length, along with a well-fitted black leather jacket. A smile crept up on your face when you saw yourself in the foggy mirror- you at least resembled your old self now.
Maggie was already waiting for you on the porch, sitting on the steps and smiled at you when you emerged from the door.
“Ya ready to go?” her head swung toward you while she pushed herself up from the steps, standing up. You nodded in response but quickly stiffened, remembering something,
“Can he come along?” you motioned towards Jake, who was standing by your side. Maggie shifted, her eyes flickering between you and your fox companion. She was clearly unsure and she had every reason to be- it was a wild animal. But that wild animal was insistent on following you and making sure you were okay; you did the same for him.
“We’re gonna go on horses, though.” She looked at you sheepishly and awaited your response
“That’s perfect, actually! He could use a good run” you kneeled down next to Jake, who instantly began pacing around you, brushing his fiery fur against you. “Sure has a lot of pent up energy”
You couldn’t remember the last time you rode a horse- it was long before the apocalypse even began. The animal was big, if it decided to buck you off- it would. Thankfully, you were good with animals. The horse seemed calm as it walked beside Maggie’s. It was exceptionally quiet for a while. The only sounds echoing through the empty streets of the abandoned countryside town was the rhythmic hitting of hooves against the hard concrete. Jake trotted along, not needing to run as you weren’t going fast. He clearly enjoyed going out on runs, he was the most adventurous fox you’ve ever met. The only fox you’ve ever met, actually, but you were sure other foxes weren’t this energetic or upbeat. The only weapon you carried was a hunting knife that you borrowed from Rick, who refused to let you go without any way of protecting yourself. Your goal was a small grocery store that was boarded up, which meant it probably wasn’t looted yet. Maggie clearing her throat brought you back from your thoughts.
“So, what’s up with you and Daryl?” she chimed cheerfully. You almost fell off the horse, but quickly composed yourself . What in the hell did she mean? Instead of answering her question, you decided to retort,
“What’s up with you and Glenn, huh?” you sent her a wink and noticed her roll her eyes with a small smile. There definitely was something going on with the two- they came in a bundle. If Maggie was doing laundry, Glenn suddenly decided to help her out. If Glenn was taking watch, Maggie magically appeared near him within minutes.
“Oh, c’mon.” She dismissed your question. Fair, you did the same to her. “If any of us tried to set up camp near the one and only Dixon we’d probably get an arrow in the ass” she laughed and you smiled, but still didn’t understand. If what she was saying was true- why did he let you set your tent up next to his? “Not to mention, he watched you for how long? A week?”
You couldn’t help but let out a throaty chuckle. Daryl was one confusing man.
“Yeah, that one was creepy as shit” you said, giggling like a schoolgirl and looking down, suddenly unable to meet her gaze.
The store was mostly clear of walkers, say for a couple squished together in a bathroom. You and Maggie swiftly took care of them and began looting the store. It was quite intact, with the majority of supplies untouched. You swiped as many cans as you could off the shelves, letting them drop in your duffle bag. Once you packed as much food as you could, you decided to take a look around the remaining aisles. There wasn’t anything of interest- some long expired lotions, condoms and sunglasses. You were about to leave the store with Maggie when you saw something in the corner of your eye. A sketchbook. You smiled a toothy grin and looked at Jake who was busy sniffing every shelf he came across. Quickly shoving the sketchbook in your already-full bag, you bumped Maggie’s shoulder with your own to signal her that you’re ready to leave.
The ride home was pleasant and the scenery was quite beautiful. The sky was turning a pinkish-orange color, the setting sun began giving everything an incredible orange glow. Everything looked more alive, even the abandoned stores and houses. Jake’s fur, which usually looked fiery, now looked like it was ablaze- he looked like a living flame.
When you arrived at the farm, the sky still had that beautiful glow to it. The farm looked like something out of a fairytale. You hopped off your horse and gave it a pat, leading it to the stables with Maggie. Once the horses were in place, you turned to Maggie.
“What did you mean? Earlier, about Daryl?” you stuttered, unsure if you should be asking the question.
“What I mean, (Y/N),” she put a hand on your shoulder and smiled at you brightly. It wasn’t the same smile she gave you when she asked about Daryl on the way to the store- this one was warm, inviting, yet still playful. Quickly, it turned into a smirk, “Daryl isn’t exactly easy to seduce”
What? Seducing Daryl was the last thing on your mind- all you wanted was someone you could trust, someone who would understand you. That person just so happened to be him- maybe because he was the one to save you, maybe because you were both like wild animals, maybe because he liked Jake. You smirked at that last thought and shook your head.
“Maggie” you looked deep into her eyes, placing both of your hands on her shoulders, “Even if I wanted to, I’m about as seductive as a cabbage” Maggie let out an unflattering snort and playfully hit your arm with her fist. You were unsure what to make of the exchange- did you really seem like all you wanted was flirting with Daryl? Just because he let his walls down a little for you didn’t mean anything. He probably felt comfortable around you because he saw how you were in the forest and felt like he knew you already; you can tell a lot about a person solely by their actions, afterall.
“Do I really seem like I just want to get in his pants?” you sighed and looked down in genuine sadness. You just needed a friend. When Maggie noticed how serious you got, her eyes dropped and her voice suddenly became soft, just above a whisper.
“I was kidding, I’m sorry.” She smiled a sad, uncertain smile and went on, “He just acts different around you, that’s all.” Her words made you think. You didn’t know how exactly he acted around others. Of course, he respected Rick and could be an asshole to the group from time to time, but how different could he be around you? This man gave you a headache, no matter how much time you spent thinking about what he’s thinking, you could never guess.
You nodded at Maggie and made your way out of the barn- you needed some fresh air. Deciding it was best to stay away from others to think, you headed to the only place you could think of- the very campfire you were sitting by with Daryl last night. Once you took a seat on a log, you stared into space, your hand stroking Jake’s fur from time to time. Maggie’s words echoed in your head, like someone shouted inside a tunnel, the echo repeating itself constantly. Maybe you should give the man space, maybe you shouldn’t get too close. Last time you did that, people died. All you wanted to know was what was behind those steel-blue eyes. You also decided to apologize to him for last night; he probably didn’t care much but you still felt guilty for brushing him off like that. Suddenly, Jake shot up and turned around, standing still and not moving an inch. Your head whipped back to see what spooked him so bad and saw the very man that you were thinking about. He was covered in small cuts and bruises, probably from running through thorn-covered bushes. His gaze was soft, friendly. Exactly like the one you saw last night when you so casually conversed with him. You stood up, about to say hello, about to apologize. You had to hold yourself back from hugging him- you were glad he made it back in one piece. You opened your mouth to speak but closed it when he kneeled and began shuffling around in his backpack, clearly looking for something. He wasn’t sure whether he should say something or not, maybe he should apologize for prying yesterday. He was definitely not a people person. Deciding it’s best to just let his action speak for him, he pulled out a familiar item out his backpack. Was it-
“Found yer knife. Apology for yesterday” He looked at you with that undecipherable look he had. You were baffled- what was he apologizing for?
“What the hell? Thank you so much!” you took the knife from his hands, “I was about to apologize myself. Sorry for brushing you off like that.” You smiled at him and, deciding to be brave, hit his arm with your fist gently. “Did you cut yourself so bad with my knife?” you gestured towards the many cuts on his face and the ones on his hands and arms, “Thought you were good with blades” You smirked at him. He scoffed and hopped over the log you were previously sat on and took a seat.
“Ya can bet ‘m better than ya"
----
taglist <3
@writers-adversary @kimchiwen @mileysnavely @srhxpci
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hard-to-be-the-bard · 4 years
Text
Bucky X Modern!Reader
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Tbh i’m probably gonna make this a series if you all like it :) let me know if you want a part 2
Warnings: Violence, Language, Torture
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You stayed at Stark tower because you were useful, and because it would be dangerous to allow you to be let loose on your own
You had stumbled into the Marvel Universe on pure coincidence, and you had no idea how. Tony had given ideas of space rifts and time loops, but that made no sense to you
Nick Fury wanted you to keep you there so he could use what you knew, about major events, after all, you knew their future
But you refused to speak, you’d seen what had happened when their timelines had been altered before, and you didn’t want to be the cause of anything happening
So you let things play out the natural way
You’d arrived shortly after Ultron
It turns out however, this universe was slightly different to the one you knew
Because Bucky was living at the tower
He’d stayed at the end of what should of been the Winter Soldier, and was going through therapy processes while Tony worked on his arm
You were what you could call friends
Being that he would smile at you when you entered a room, offering a hello, and engaging in small talk
Bucky liked to keep to himself, and you respected that, the man had been through a lot
Bucky knew you were from a different reality, and knew you knew about his past
You’d helped him fill in a few blanks here and there if he was desperate, and he always seemed surprised when you did something you knew he’d enjoy
He told you you knew him better than himself
Which was true in a way
His memories still not fully recovered, and when you were in your world, you’d already had a small crush on the man
It seemed it only grew here
You liked him, a lot, it was almost painstakingly obvious, Steve knew, he’d asked you about it after seeing you leave Bucky’s room after calming him from a nightmare
You didn’t think anyone else knew, but then again, you were living with the Avengers, so it wouldn’t be a surprise
On top of living with them, you were made to take part in training, they wanted you to be ready in case anything did happen
And you were glad you’d done so
It turned out it was just S.H.I.E.L.D who knew about you HYDRA did too.
And you’d managed to let them get to you
And Bucky too
You’d both been alone, the avengers out on a mission, and Bucky wasn’t passed for all missions yet, just smaller ones. So he’d been with you for the day, watching films together on the sofa.
When the power went out
You’d frowned, trying to talk to JARVIS to see what was happening, but there was no response
But Tony had said JARVIS was on a different power source, in case of an electrical failure
Meaning that this wasn’t a normal power cut
You’d informed Bucky as such, and he looked at you, brow furrowed, before pulling you up, taking you towards his room, which was luckily, on the same floor, he opened the door, gesturing you in before closing it
“Doll-” He starts softly, not knowing what to say
“If this, if this is a break in, we have your phone that’s it, and if there’s no signal we have no way to contact the others, or even know if they’ll pick up-” He takes a deep breath in before walking to his wardrobe, moving some things before dragging out a case
“I know you know how to use a gun sweetheart” He says, as he unlocks it, revealing a range of guns, from smaller hand guns to larger ones
“I taught you myself” He says, picking up a glock 26 and pressing it into your hands, along with a box of ammo, he moved to the side of his bed, pulling out a waist belt, with a pocket on the side handing it to you
“Saves you carrying the ammo around, more room to point and shoot” He barely whispers, and you notice his hands shaking ever so slightly
It’s then you hear the loud bang at the end of the hallway, and Bucky freezes, looking up, before clasping your head in his hands
“Doll, listen to me now, I know you have no experience with this, but, no matter what happens, your main goal is getting off this floor, and outside, okay, call Steve, Tony anyone, but you need to keep yourself alive for me” He practically begs, and you begin to tear up
“Bucky I-” But you don’t finish another loud bang echoing, closer this time, and Bucky opens another door in his room you didn’t know he had
“Through here” He motions, taking you through the door, locking it behind you.
He stops, looking at you once more
“Doll I’m gonna have to leave you soon” He says and you frown staring at him
“W-What why? We can go together” You plead, and he shakes his head
“I need to take care of this sweetheart” He says, taking you down the corridor, pushing you towards the stairwell
“Go” He demands, and you falter for a brief second before whispering
“Don’t get yourself killed” And he smiles for a moment before turning on his heel, gun in hand
And you take it as a cue to leave, running down the steps, and you keep going until you hear footsteps, and you freeze, lifting the gun slightly, before seeing a closet and ducking inside, turning the lock behind you
Quickly you pulled out your phone, sighing in relief when you saw it had signal, and shakily to typed out a text message
Tower compromised. Come Quickly. 
And you copied in everybody, before attempting to call Tony
But it goes straight to voicemail and you curse, before hitting Steve’s name, hearing footsteps come closer
And thank god he picks up
“Hey, y/n, what’s wrong i’m just in the middle of-” You cut him off, voice shaky
“S-steve you have to come back, there, there’s some people in the tower, the powers gone, and Bucky’s upstairs somewhere, I--” You almost drop the phone at the sound of gunfire and you hear Steve curse, shouting to Tony
“Hey doll, take a deep breath, where are you?” He asks, and you tell him
“A closet, on the 6th floor” You whisper, before hearing footsteps again, and he speaks
“You got a weapon?” He asks, and you tell him yes and he lets out a sigh of relief
“We’re on our way back, 10 mins tops, don’t worry doll, nothings gonna happen to you I promise” He says
But he speaks to soon
Because the next second the door is caved in, and you have two guns pointed at your head, the phone slides out of your grasp as one of the large men grab you, shoving you forward with their gun
Steve’s still on the phone, and he heard the door cave
“Doll? You there? Y/N?” He calls, and one of the men picks up the phone
“You know where to find us” Is all he says before hanging up.
Steve feels his blood run cold, as Tony looks at him, panic in his eyes
“What’s going on?” He asks, and Steve can barely speak
“They have her” He whispers, and Natasha’s head shoots up, cursing softly
“Tony we have to go faster” He urges, and he shakes his head
“I would if I could, but I physically can’t” He says
You wake up in the dark, arms bent painfully around your back, zip tied together, and then bound with thicker rope, you tugged sharply, giving up once the plastic cut into your wrists, knowing it was no use. You sniffled letting out a curse
Then you heard a voice call out
“Doll?” It asked, soft and unsure, and your head shoots up
“Bucky?” You respond and you hear him sigh
“Shit doll, are you hurt?” He asks, and you feel the throbbing at the back of your head from where you’d probably been knocked out
“I think I’m okay” You whispered, before saying
“I called Steve, he knows” And you hear Bucky move against his restraints
“Good job sweetheart” You think he’s about to say more but the door swings open, light flooding in, and you squinted, your eyes adjusting, before you opened them and you finally saw Bucky, his head low, eyes watching you
And he saw the bruises, and he winced, how did you think you weren’t hurt. Unless you were in shock he thought, staring at the already formed purple angry splotches along your chin and cheekbone
You stared at him, eyes teary and he felt his heart break.
You could die here
And he wouldn’t be able to save you
The man who entered a room pulled out a chair, siting on it to face you
“Now, Miss l/n, this can go two ways, either. you tell me what I want to know and no one gets hurt. Or, we hurt you, a lot” He says, and you frown at him
“I don’t know anything” You say, confused but the man tuts
“I think you do, what I want to know, is, a certain string of phrases, 10 words, to be precise, and I think you know just what I’m talking about” And you freeze, because you do, and even Bucky stops, knowing exactly what he’s talking about, his eyes narrowing in confusion
But how would you know, you didn’t work for HYDRA.
And then it hit him, you would know, you knew everything about him, which included those words
“I-” You stumble, you weren’t going to tell them, you couldn’t
“Go to hell” You spat, and the man sighed, and Bucky stared at you
“Well then, it looks like you’re going to be hurt” He says, and signals to someone, and a tall looming man steps over, walking towards you, fist raised
“Do what you must” He says
And the man descends upon you
You didn’t know when you lost consciousness, but you did know that Bucky was screaming the second you woke, and you felt a fist connect with your jaw again.
And your body writhed in agony
Bucky begging for them to stop
“Doll it’s alright, just say it, it’s okay” He pleads, and you realised he was screaming because of you, not because he was being hurt, and you frowned, barely able to shake your head before you let out a soft no
And that was all it took for the man to start again, but he was bored of this approach, hauling over a large black bucket, water sloshing over the edge, and you knew what was going to happen
So did Bucky
“You’ll kill her!” He begged, screaming at you to just tell them, but you shook your head
And he pushed it under the water
You came back up grasping for air, shaking at the coldness of it, and that was when the door opened
Steve in the doorway, shield raised, and a look you’d never seen before on his face
It was almost feral
And his shield connected with the man’s neck and he fell to the ground, and you heard Bucky’s cries
“Get her Steve, get her” He says, and you feel your head being lifted up, Steve looking at you, concern on his face as he muttered apologies, and you felt the rope binding you loosen, and the pain in your arms prickling as you finally gained the ability to move them, and you collapsed into Steve’s arms
Soon Bucky had ran over to your side, his arms wrapping around you, tugging you from Steve’s grasp, who passed you over as Bucky cradled you
“You’re okay doll, you’re okay” He mumbles into your forehead, but you’re not sure who’s he’s trying to reassure, and you’re just so tired
And then your vision turns black
You wake up in a hospital
A soft beeping in your ear, and the scratchy noise tickling sterile smell
You notice an IV drip in your arm and you frown, reaching out to tug out the invasive needle, when a hand grasps your wrist gently
“You need that darling” A voice croaks, and you turn your head to see Bucky, puffy eyed, and looking tired, his eyes red from crying
“H-Hey buck” You whispered, your throat sore, and words appearing scratchy
He smiles softly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and you frown, pressing a hand against his cheek
“Come on, I know you got a better one than that in you” You joke, and he laughs, before starting to cry
And you’d never seen something so heart-breaking, it sounded wrong, the breathy gasps that escaped his throat, and it was gut wrenching, and you hated it
“Hey don’t cry, I don’t look that bad do I” You chuckle, and he looks at you
“You nearly died doll” He whispered, and you pause, had you
“You technically did, your heart stopped, they didn’t think you’d, I-” He takes in a deep breath and you frown softly
“I’m okay though” You say, hand still on his face
“Look I’m alive” You offer, and he shakes his head
“I never should of left you doll” He mumbles, and you shake your head
“Don’t you dare blame yourself James Buchanan Barnes” You state, and he looks up at the use of his full name, about to protest
“Don’t argue with me” You whisper, and pat his cheek, shifting in your bed, before wincing
“Doll-” He begins, looking worried but you waved it away
“How bad do I look?” You joke and Bucky looked down, and you frowned
“Buck?” You asked, and he looked like he was gonna cry again
“Doll I’m sorry, they, you’re gonna have some scars, and a lot of bruising for a while” He whispers, and you nod slightly
“At least you’re okay” You say, and he shakes his head
“Me? Doll you’re the one who nearly- and you’re worried about me?” He asks incredulously, and you nod
“I just- you’re not, mad about me knowing” You ask, and he knows what you’re talking about, but he shakes his head
“Doll, I trust you” He mumbles, and he looked like he was about to say something else when the others burst into the room 
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peppersteakss · 3 years
Text
(hello i come with a little dsmp christmas oneshot, enjoy)
“tommy!! wake up!!”
the raspy whisper coming from ghostbur caused tommy to slowly open his eyes, only half awake from his slumber. the first thing he noticed other than the obvious ghostbur standing over him was how cold his room had gotten overnight, despite the fire from the torches.
“ghostbur,” he spoke in a groggy tone, “what are you doing here? what time is it?”
“it’s about dawn - and i wanted to spend the holiday with my brothers, of course!” ghostburs tone was cheery as usual as he stared down at tommy.
“the holiday?” tommy sat up, even more confused as he rubbed his eyes awake.
“tommy, have you forgotten? i’ve reminded you everyday for the past week, it’s christmas! i even got you a gift!” tommy sat with no reaction as ghostbur held out some blue for his brother.
“sorry i didn’t get you anything, ghostbur. i forgot,” tommy lied. he hadn’t forgotten - he wanted to, though. it was the first christmas he’d be spending without his whole family and his best friend (which is not a a reality any teenager would want). he figured there was no point in celebrating christmas, at least for this year.
“that’s alright - it’s not the gifts that matter most, what matters most is that we get to spend christmas together! techno, you, and i! just like the old days!!” ghostburs tone was always one that lifted spirits, and today would be no exception. and although tommy still felt uneasy about the day, he climbed his latter with a little more pep in his step.
tommy noticed the sun was still coming up when he reached ground level, but the lack of natural light didn’t stop his vision from seeing white flurries flying about. sure, it was always snowy, but he’d never actual seen it snowing out in the arctic. that explains why his room was so cold, and just at the thought of his room and the snowflakes falling outside - he started to shiver. arms shaking, teeth chattering, clutching tightly onto the blue that ghostbur had just given him.
ghostbur then gasped. “i’d almost forgotten!” he quickly pushed open the door and ran out of the house and was back in a few seconds, holding a small wrapped box. tommy stared at it with confusion as ghostbur extended it towards him. “go on, take it! it’s for you! i give you blue all the time, so i got you something else as well!”
tommy felt a tinge of guilt as he took yet another gift from ghostbur, he’d have to think of something to give to him by the end of the day. he held his breath as he opened the box, expecting more blue despite the specters words.
“it matches your hair, and the walls of your room!” ghostbur spoke, as tommy pulled out a yellow bandana. it was soft and clean, unlike the green one he wore around his neck. “i also added some yellow patches and thread if you wanted to fix up the green one!”
tommy looked up, wide eyed, not knowing what to say. he stammered a bit, his arms open - ghostbur took this as an opportunity to hug his brother. tommy flinched, hesitant at first - not only was ghostbur ice cold to the touch, he just wasn’t used to human touch anymore - but eventually, he hugged back. he closed his eyes and rested his head on ghostburs shoulder, it almost felt like when they were kids. he managed to mumble a simple ‘thank you.’
tommy flinched only slightly when he heard the latter behind him creek, turning only a little as not to let go of ghostbur. “techno! merry christmas!!”
ghostbur pulled away from tommy, going back outside to retrieve something - at least that was tommy’s guess. he turned and saw techno at one of his chests, pulling out a few wrapped boxes of his own.
‘please let those all be for ghostbur and phil,’ tommy thought, feeling guilt build up inside him yet again.
ghostbur came back and slammed the door shut behind him, another box in hand - much smaller than the one he gave to tommy. it was wrapped in blue, with a pink bow (not christmasy, but very much techno).
techno saw ghostbur and ended up only pulling one box from the chest, wrapped in yellow. the twins quickly exchanged their gifts, ghostbur waiting while techno opened his gift.
“it matches your new everything!” inside the small box was a dangly earring with a snowflake at the end. techno smiled in content as he put it on, now waiting for ghostbur to open his gift.
ghostburs smile widened as he made a squeak of joy, pulling out a small blue sheep plushie. “friend!” techno let out a chuckle as he walked back to the chest, grabbing two larger boxes - one wrapping in green and the other wrapped in red - and walking to tommy, who’s guilt had only built up as techno got closer.
“phil would’ve wanted to give this to you himself, but...” techno paused for only a moment, “he’s obviously not here. he’d want you to have it, anyways.” and with that, techno handed tommy the box wrapped in green.
tommy hesitantly grabbed the box, carefully unwrapping it as if he were on the lookout for some sort of prank or sick joke. he opened the box, revealing the contents inside to be a blue mantle and boots - similar to the ones both techno and phil donned.
“he had a hunch you’d be here at some point,” techno said, as tommy stared in awe at the contents. “you’re also have nothin’ to keep you warm out here, so that’s that. and if for some reason you don’t like the blue,” techno then handed tommy the red box, “there’s this - this ones from me.”
tommy was less hesitant now as he grabbed the red box, unwrapping and opening it to reveal technos red mantle.
tommy felt overwhelmed as he looked techno in the eyes. “techno, you didn’t-“
“i don’t need it anymore. and i’d rather give it to someone who might use it than to just let it collect dust or throw it away. besides that point, gettin’ frostbite or hypothermia isn’t ideal at the moment - look at you, you’re shiverin’ right now,” techno said, as he grabbed the blue mantle and quickly wrapped it around tommy.
now overwhelmed with the weight of the mantle on his shoulders, tommy looked at techno with guilt in his eyes. “i didn’t even get you anything.”
“so what? i don’t care,” techno said, quite nonchalantly. “just don’t take my gapples and we can call this even.”
the guilt left tommy’s eyes, and he began to chuckle. the chuckle turned into a giggle, and the giggle turned to a hardy laugh mixed with choked sobs - he grasped tightly onto all of his gifts, and mentally he held onto the feeling he felt right then and there, happiness. pure, unfiltered, and utter happiness.
“h-here i was, thinking that this year just wouldn’t be the same - and t-truth be told, it i-isn’t - but,” tommy let out another laughing sob, “i thought it’d be way worse.”
“why’s that?” techno asked.
“well, for s-starters - wilbur is a ghost. then i lost my best friend, something happened with d-dream, and now p-phil’s stuck in l’manberg. on an o-outside perspective, that sounds p-pretty shit t-to me.”
tommy let out a squeak as he received his second hug of the day - this time from techno. he didn’t move and inch, his eyes wide, his crying coming to a halt.
“none of that matters right now. we’re gonna get things back to how they were, we’ve discussed this. but it’s christmas - don’t worry so much. today is the only day i can say with full confidence that nothing bad will happen, nothing will go wrong.” techno said, his voice stern yet still comforting to his younger brother. and after a moment, tommy clung to him - sobbing and wailing. he hadn’t had a proper cry like this since... since... he can’t even remember.
for a while, tommy and techno just stayed like that, and tommy realized that this was the first time techno had ever really hugged him - despite being brothers. but it was nice, his embrace was similar to that of their fathers. and after another while, ghostbur joined in.
and so the brothers sat, hugging on christmas day.
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redhoodieone · 3 years
Text
It’s Cold in Here Part 12
Hi everyone! Here is Part 12 and I hope you all enjoy! Stay safe! 😘
WARNINGS: Language and violence.
Stone cold. Ice Queen. A beautiful dead corpse is all I see when I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The midnight blue off the shoulder long formal dress I’m wearing is worth more than my apartment. The diamond belt around my waist is something I’ve never dreamt of wearing. The two slits above my thighs is something I’ve absolutely never dreamed of showing before.
I didn’t pick out the dress. Alfred had delivered it to my apartment this morning.
A hairstylist and makeup artist that Bruce had hired had come by just three hours ago to do my hair and makeup. My long hair is pinned up in a beautifully bun, and two long strands of my hair are let down, and frame my face nicely.
My makeup is natural looking. I’m grateful the lovely woman had noticed my discomfort and decided against the heavy makeup, and instead had given me natural look.
After she had left, I remained in my bathroom in a frozen, unsure state. On the counter lies a large jewelry box from Dick, with a note I hadn’t exactly looked at.
I inhale sharply and gaze down at the note.
Wear this jewelry with the new dress. You’ll look stunning. Love, Dick.
I can feel my chest ache with nerves and uncertainty. Opening the jewelry box, I’m instantly shocked to see a gorgeous diamond choker, two large diamond stud earrings, and a simple diamond and sapphire bracelet.
I don’t want to wear any of it. I already feel guilty enough to have to go to Bruce’s gala tonight. And even worse...
Accepting Dick’s marriage proposal.
I slip on the jewelry and finally look into the mirror with my head up high. I notice that I look exactly like the girls Dick used to date back then. The kind of girls I would never become.
A gold digger.
Eye candy.
Fame seeker.
I’m aware that I’m starting to slowly lose myself to Dick. After that awful night of him forcing me to do sexual acts with him, I notice he’s become more distant than I was. We haven’t even spoke since; only text messaging and having Alfred be the messenger between us.
Poor Alfred...he has absolutely no clue of what’s happening between me and Dick. I know for a fact that Dick must have lied to him. Dick must have told Alfred he’s nervous about proposing to me or something.
The thought of Dick manipulating everyone makes me wonder how far and long he’s willing to go just to save his face and reputation. Would he even manipulate Bruce?
If Bruce truly believed our “engagement” was real, then he would surely be fooled like everyone else. And then that would be very humiliating and disappointing for the detective; the so called Dark Knight.
I slip on my black high heels and force myself to head to the living room to wait for Alfred to pick me up. I mentally scold myself to get my shit together just to get through the night. But it’s obviously hard to put on a brave face when all I want to do is lie in bed and ugly cry all day and night.
No one will ever understand what is going on between me and Dick.
My best friends Artemis and Zatanna.
The Batfamily.
Justice League.
All of Gotham.
Jason.
I can feel the tears burning behind my eyes just thinking about him. Jason Todd. He was my last hope. The night I tried calling him to come help me was a failure.
He was supposed to break free from whatever Mad Hatter did to him.
He was supposed to help me figure out how to end Deathstroke’d evil bullshit.
He was supposed to save me from Dick Grayson.
Jason was supposed to be my hero.
My doorbell rings, interrupting my thoughts as well as bringing me back to the harsh reality. I grab my black clutch that holds my cell phone and surprisingly hides my knife.
Just in case...
Alfred smiles at me the second I open the door. “I must say, you are an absolute beauty tonight. I’ll have to fight off men for you, Miss Y/N. Are you ready to leave?”
“Thank you Alfred. And yes, I’m ready please,” I say, stepping out and locking up the front door before Alfred escorts me to the elevators.
I’m grateful that Alfred keeps to himself most of the time. He keeps a space between us until we reach outside; the dark gloomy sky of Gotham sends a shiver down my bare back. I immediately regret not getting my white shawl to cover my shoulders. Alfred guides me to the limo and opens the back door for me to climb in.
“Master Dick is already at the gala. He said he’ll meet us out front for the red carpet pictures.”
I want to scoff. But instead I respond as nicely as I can. “Okay, thank you.��
My cell phone rings. I quickly open my clutch and tense up when I see the unknown number.
Deathstroke.
I look at the unread text message.
You better make sure you accept his proposal, Y/N. You’ll have to see it through if you and Dick want to live.
I can feel myself choking up from just the fear of this text message. Before I could even think or really do anything, the limo stops. We’re here.
Alfred opens my door and holds a hand out for me to grab onto. “Here we are, Miss Y/N,” he says with a gentle smile.
“Thank you, Alfred,” I say, with a small smile.
Alfred helps me out of the limo and as soon as he releases me, the paparazzi surround me. I’m forced to shield my eyes with a hand from what feels like a hundred cameras flashing at me. A hand grabs my wrist and I’m pulled closely to a warm, tall body. I look up and see Dick Grayson.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Dick asks, kissing my forehead, smiling down at me, pretending to be my loving concerned boyfriend.
I’m frozen from the affection but it doesn’t last long as Dick leads me inside the humongous building that’s holding Bruce’s gala.
I’m completely dazed from the million lights shining down on us when we enter the room. The ballroom is like a dream; marble flooring and exquisite art and statues surround everywhere. Men and women are dressed to the nines.
I even spot some Justice League members in disguise. Clark, Diana, Oliver, and Dinah are here and dressed so good.
I even spot Artemis with Conner and Zatanna with Tim, and even Damian, who are clearly shocked to see me here and with Dick.
I don’t blame them for being surprised as hell considering I’ve been MIA since...the last time they saw me or even spoke to me.
I frown and try to pull away from Dick’s strong grip to go speak to my friends, but he only tightens his hold on me.
My gaze shifts over to where bachelor and striking Bruce is standing in front of a tall man and blonde woman. My heart suddenly stops when I see Jason, handsome and sexy as ever in an all black suit with Isabel on his arm. He turns around and notices I’m staring at him. I expect him to glare at me or even give me a weird look since he clearly doesn’t remember me because of Mad Hatter.
But Jason doesn’t. He actually looks...confused.
I notice his dark hair is gelled but the messy spikiness is there. Possibly from running a hand through it. I automatically want to run my hand through his hair. I even want to hug him. I want to kiss him.
I want him.
I want Jason.
Dick practically drags me to the stage where he lowers his head to look me straight in the eyes.
“It’s going to happen right now. I can’t wait any longer,” Dick admits.
I swallow hard. “Okay, but could we talk about this first? Please?”
Dick shakes his head. Is he really going to ignore and pretend that this is all real? “It’s happening. I’m...I’m going to ask you to marry me. You’re going to say yes. You’re going to kiss me. And-and we’re going to live happily after. Do you understand?” he snaps, barely quiet enough for others to not hear.
My eyes glance over at Jason, who blinks a few times and looks all around himself and appears to be more aware. He turns to Isabel and he becomes angry; startling her and Bruce, and even others around them.
I look back to Dick, but I suddenly gasp in shock when I see Wally entering the gala in a suit. He stops walking as soon as he sees me and Dick closely together.
This is wrong.
I can’t say yes to Dick.
I can’t do this to Jason and Wally. This isn’t fair to them.
Wally loves Dick.
And I love Jason.
And the thought of saying yes to Dick makes me feel guilty because I don’t want to marry him.
I can’t lie.
I can’t pretend anymore.
I can’t do this.
We’ll find a way to stop Deathstroke. We’ll find a way to help Dick.
Dick stares down at me. His blue eyes are burning into mine. He looks pissed at me. He looks like he hates every single part of me. He sees me as his enemy.
But he can’t or won’t see how this is killing me.
“I...can’t. I can’t say yes and I can’t marry you,” I confess quietly. “I’m sorry.”
I notice Dick’s hand is squeezing my wrist tighter. The pain he’s causing me makes me wince and whimper in pain. His other hand is digging into his pocket and he reveals a small black jewelry box.
From the corner of my eye, I can see Jason, Bruce, and Wally approaching us with concerned looks.
Dick lowers his face closer to whisper in my ear. “You’re going to say yes to me, you fucking selfish bitch. I don’t give a shit about what you want or don’t want. You better say yes, and you better be my wife before I make your life a living nightmare,” he threatens quietly before he chuckles darkly. “Just like your past nightmare with Daddy Dearest.”
My eyes widen in horror when Dick mentions my stepfather; the man who emotionally and physically hurt me with sexual abuse. I lower my eyes to the floor. I know this has to be the final straw. Dick has crossed a line that I don’t even think he could take back or make it right.
I force myself to look back up at Dick but my attention is taken away from him and is now on the sky roof. Across the way on another building stands Deathstroke, who has his gun aimed directly at Dick’s back.
Oh my fucking God. Deathstroke is going to shoot and kill Dick!
Deathstroke knows I said no. He knows I’m not going to accept Dick’s marriage proposal. He knows I’m not going to do what he wants me to do.
I have to do something. I realize I have a choice. I know what I have to do.
And if I die, at least I die knowing I did care and love for Dick Grayson.
Even if he doesn’t love me back.
I follow my instincts that I was trained to act on. Without a second thought, I jump in front of Dick; allowing the faster-than-fuck killing bullet to pierce through my flesh at my right shoulder.
It burns. It’s making me bleed. It hurts like fuck.
I fall back onto Dick. He catches me and we crash to the floor. I can feel him sit up and gasp loudly in panic when he sees I’ve been shot and am bleeding.
“No...no!” Dick cries out. He puts his hands on the seeping wound and puts pressure on it.
Through the stinging pain, I can see everyone around us is frozen and staring in fear at the window where the bullet came from. I follow their stares and notice what they’re looking at.
Deathstroke is on the roof across the way. Everyone sees his gun is aimed right at the building. He shot me.
He waves at me and shoots his grapple gun to come straight at us.
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apageinthecastle · 3 years
Text
A Quarantined Reunion: Chapter three - Ghost Stories
Frank and Karen find themselves stuck with each other for longer than expected, and a memory Frank thought he had buried resurfaces to pull him from the moment.
Good morning, sleepyhead.
Frank woke with a start, Maria’s voice still ringing in his ears. Sitting up, he turned on the single, shadeless lamp beside his couch, the light harsh in the dark of the apartment. The sun wasn’t up yet. Grateful to have slept on the couch (undeniably for the proximity to the coffee maker) he shuffled into the kitchen, tossing the now-empty apple pie container and crumpled burger foil in the trash. He had eaten the cheeseburger while mulling over the fragmented conversation from the night before, stitching the silences together and getting nowhere. With Karen taking the rest of her thoughts and answers to bed with her, he had decided sometime around midnight that it had still been an apple pie kind of day, after all.
He filled Max’s food dish, shaking it a little before starting the coffee maker. From the time Frank had adopted the pit bull, he’d had to rustle any food in his dish to get the dog to eat. Maybe it was something left over from Max’s time with the Kitchen Irish, where Frank knew he had been mistreated. Maybe it was just that he was trained to wait to eat. Whatever the reason, it was a welcome part of their morning routine. He was grateful for Max’s company - after dropping him off at New York Bully Crew, Frank had imagined the pit bull happily adopted by some well-off family, maybe with kids… still, when he had returned to the shelter for work as part of his arrangement with the CIA and found Max still there, there was some relief in knowing he was able to readopt him and provide some semblance of a home.
It wasn’t until the first sip of his second cup of coffee that the Marine turned to the window, nearly dropping the mug at the sight of the mountain of snow already collected on the outer sill.
He’d have to get a whole damn pie delivered.
It was only a few minutes later that a messy-haired Karen made her way out from the bedroom. She adjusted the ace bandage wrapped around her wrist, more out of nervous habit than anything else. Beginning with every intention of saying good morning to Frank, the blonde froze in place when she saw the amount of snow that had built up. Oh, no.
Keeping their distance in the apartment had been reasonable last night. Social distancing hadn’t been perfect - he had carried her back to his place, for Christ’s sake - but it was enough that all things considered, she had felt comfortable with the idea of leaving his apartment in search of her own.
Seeing that snow, knowing there would be no hope of leaving during it…
Damn it.
Good morning long forgotten, she turned to him. “Please tell me there’s coffee.”
He nodded absently and slowly turned back to the kitchen with a resigned sigh, muttering under his breath. “Not enough in the world for this day.”
If Karen heard him, she had no audible response. It was probably for the best - they were both under-caffeinated, and, judging by the look on her face as his eyes flicked over to look, licking their wounds from the night before. To say he felt bad was an understatement; guilt was something that came easily to him, especially when it was for good reason. Max, having emptied his bowl already, nudged at Frank’s twitching fingers with his nose, bringing him back into the moment.
“Mugs are in the cupboard beside the fridge. You hungry?”
Karen shook her head, walking to the kitchen silently. She was, in reality, but she wasn’t about to start asking Frank Castle for more than she had to right now, and coffee, well that was non-negotiable. She reached into the cupboard for the mug, pulling it down and pouring herself a cup. She’d stopped taking milk and sugar in her coffee long ago - just one of many things tossed away from her time in Vermont and college.
She leaned against the counter, blowing down into the mug for a few seconds before taking a sip. She looked up at him, studying him. So much of him was different - well, not different so much as the near present sight of injury she’d come to expect was gone - but so, so much of him was exactly the same. Grimacing against a larger gulp of coffee than intended, she let out a quiet sigh.
“I’m guessing if I try and walk out that door right now to go home, you’re not going to let me.”
He bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from chuckling. “You’d be ankle-deep in that shit, but if you’re that determined, be my guest.”
It took about thirty seconds for her to drain the cup of coffee before she started slipping her shoes on. Did the walk home sound pleasant? Not at all. Did she want to be trapped in an apartment with him for two weeks once they could no longer reasonably argue against quarantining together? Absolutely not. Seeing him last night, waking up to him this morning, well. It had been hard enough on her. She didn’t know if she was capable of spending two weeks living as the choice he didn’t want to make.
“Y-- Ah, Jesus, Karen, don’t be ri-- think about it.” He set his coffee mug aside and rolled his eyes, starting towards her. “It’s freezing out there, alright, the snow is up to your ass. How far do you really think you’re gonna get in those shoes, huh?”
“Far enough.” He had enough of a point to give her pause, though. Another sigh escaped her lips and she stood there, shifting her weight. “You realize if I stay, we’re going to be stuck here together for two weeks, right? You really want that?” It took everything in her to ignore the part that was hoping he would say yes.
If we’re not stuck here for two weeks, already, Frank thought as he considered a response. The damn parameters for what was considered close contact or what prompted mandatory isolation had probably changed another five times since they’d gone to sleep. He drained his coffee mug and refilled it before managing an answer for the annoyed blonde in front of him.
“Seems like a better idea than you freezing to death or getting hit by some asshole who forgets how to drive in this shit.” It was a conscious effort to let her make the decision for herself.
Her fingers found her hair and she shook her head the tiniest bit as she considered. “You know what, why not?” came the exasperated response. She stepped back out of her heels, disbelieving even of herself. In what world had she just signed herself up for two weeks of torture? Apparently, this one.
“You’re going to have to learn to share your kitchen if I’m going to be here for two weeks.”
The visible battle to stop the smile tugging at the corner of his lips was lost, the evidence quickly hidden behind a coffee mug. Share his kitchen, huh? He couldn't remember the last time he had.
Right on cue, mid-morning memories of that day with his family flooded Frank's mind, springing free from their box. That Last Day. He thought he had thrown away the damn key. He gripped the coffee mug in his hands as, for a moment, he was transported to the kitchen in the home he'd turned to dust. The lazy sun of early April poured in through the window, bathing the edges of Maria's hair and skin in warmth. She was making breakfast. Frank Jr. was pestering his sister, begging her to teach him another of the nonsensical rhymes, swapping their juice cups when she wasn't looking. The earthy, bright smell of coffee wafted through the air. Frank had reached for the loaf of bread, intent on helping his wife. He remembered laughing, shaking his head as she lightly slapped his hand away with the spatula, oily from cooking eggs. She had flashed a breathtaking, mischievous smile that had nearly brought Frank to his knees. There was no sharing a kitchen with Maria Castle.
"We'll see about that," he breathed, as the memory dissolved. He found himself flexing his fingers, still feeling the rubber end of the utensil against them.
Karen was polite enough not to pry. A specific look told her better - the look that said his thoughts were no longer here with her for a moment, but years in the past when his family had still been alive. Hearing stories from that period of his life had always been few and far between, and it was something that had always come up naturally. Well, aside from the early days when she’d been crossing police lines and shoving stolen photographs in his face. Not her finest moments.
It was that look on his face once again that made the blonde want to reach out, to rest her hand against his arm in their old familiar comforts. Words had never been the way they communicated with each other, not really. Glances and the smallest of touches… she shook her head to clear it, taking a deep breath and nodding. Even after two years, she knew when he was deflecting, and she knew when to let it go.
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whiskery-louis · 3 years
Text
Pancakes
This is part 2 to Game Night and I think it will be the last! I am thinking about writing out their break-up but I’m not sure.
Luke x reader
Trigger Warning: angst
Please let me know what you think!!
~~~~~~~~
 “What are you doing here?” you moved to block him from coming in, pushing the door closed every so slightly.
His eyes followed your movement and you knew he wasn’t fooled. He knew exactly what you were doing. It was unnerving him watching you after all this time. You used to love that his eyes followed you around the room, but now you were itching to slam the door in his face.
“Your phone.” he whispered.
“What about it?” you snapped.
He just sighed and put his hand in his pocket, pulling out your familiar marble phone case. “You ran out so fast you forgot this in the kitchen. And I-uh, I just wanted to make sure you got it back.”
 He held it for you to take as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck with his free hand. You couldn’t stop your eyes from glancing at the patch of skin that escaped under his shirt as he moved his arms. He cleared his throat when you didn’t take your phone from him immediately, the sound snapping you back to reality.
“Thank you,” you spoke curtly, not wanting to show him any emotion. You reached out and grabbed your phone careful not to let his skin brush yours. “If that’s all…” you moved to shut the door on him but his hand shot out and stopped it. The metal of his rings connecting with the door.
“Y/N wait can we talk?” he eyes searched your face pleading.
“Luke I really don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s been six months and I had a long night. Thank you for bringing me my phone but I just can’t.”
“I brought coffee,” you turned to see him reaching to the little table you had on your porch to pick up an iced drink. “And donuts.” his other hand was now holding a small box. 
You sighed defeated as you opened the door further to let him in.
“You can stay until I finish my drink.”
He shut the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen. You froze in the doorway seeing the contents of the box that you forgot were laid out on the island.
“Shit,” you muttered but before you could turn to stop Luke from seeing your mess from last night, his body collided with yours, spilling the drink all over you.
“Fuck Y/N I’m so sorry. You just stopped and I didn’t…” His voice trailed off as he saw the photos of you and him that littered the kitchen. His eyes went back to you, a questioning look crossing his face. 
You cut him off before he could speak. “I’m going to change. You can sit in there,” you pointed to your living room. “I’ll be right back. Please just don’t touch anything.”
Luke just nodded and went to sit on the couch as you made your way back upstairs.
“Nice shirt by the way!” 
You looked down to see you were wearing his old Nirvana shirt, the first one he ever gave you and mentally cursed yourself for choosing to open that damn box last night. You rifled through the pile of clothes on your floor looking for your familiar oversized sweatshirt. Once you located it you took off Luke’s old shirt and shrugged on the familiar pale yellow crew neck. Ironically this was the sweatshirt you bought on your flight home from L.A. after your breakup and it had become the thing that you wore to bed whenever you had an off day. Maybe it was because that whole flight home you had cried and the only thing you had that he never touched was that sweatshirt.
You paused to take a quick look at yourself in the mirror and blanched when you saw how disheveled you looked. You sighed and hated that you wished you looked nicer, still not wanting Luke to see you like this. You quickly crossed the hall to your bathroom to wash your face, run a brush through your hair and apply the smallest amount of concealer to cover the blemishes on your face. Feeling slightly better you flushed the toilet to make it seem natural that you were taking longer. 
Closing your eyes and taking a quick breath, you headed back down to Luke. He was sitting on the couch as you had told him too but now he was surrounded by the items that you had stored away in that box for six months. He was looking through a scrapbook that you had made about your trip to Disneyworld, he was so distracted that he didn’t hear you enter the room. 
You stood there for a few minutes in disbelief at what you were looking at. Never did you think that Luke would step foot in your new home. The breakup had been so hard that you swore you wouldn’t give him the chance to hurt you again. You didn’t want to be that girl who took a guy back just because he apologized. Even if he is the love of your life.
Standing here watching him relive some of your favorite memories you began to feel your walls weaken. There had always been something about him that made your insides go soft, the way he always huffed at his hair to keep it out of his eyes, too stubborn to pull it back. You still remember the way his eyes lit up when you walked in a room, how he would always make you pancakes when you had a bad day, and the way his arms felt when they were wrapped around you during a scary movie. 
It was strange seeing him after all this time. You thought your anger at how it ended would overpower you, but instead you felt sadness at what was lost. It shouldn’t surprise you as you were always head over heels for him, all your friends said you were crazy for running off to L.A. to be with the rockstar that you met by chance when he was touring the world. You knew their concerns were valid but you also knew the connection you shared with Luke was stronger. And you were right, for eight months you lived out there and it was eight months of pure bliss. Then out of nowhere he broke up with you and you were on the next flight home. 
And now after all this time you were curious as to what he had to say. 
You crossed the room and sat down next to him, glancing over his shoulder at the pages he had opened in the book. You laughed when you recognized the picture of the two of you riding Dinosaur. It was one of your favorite memories - Luke was screaming and you were turned towards him laughing at his reaction.
“That was one of my favorite parts of that trip.” 
He looked up at you, a slight smile on his face, “Mine is how tired you always were at the end of the days so you would lean on me as we walked out of the park and always fell asleep on my shoulder while on the shuttles. I always loved watching you sleep.”
Your eyes moved from the pictures to meet him. The sorrow you saw was overwhelming, it made you pause and realize you never thought about how he felt when things ended.
“Luke-” you began but he cut you off.
“Please Y/N let me talk. I’ve been trying to figure out how to word this for six months and I need to tell you why I ended it.” He pleaded, his voice breaking at the end. You only nodded your head not trusting your voice. “I need to say how sorry I am for what I did. And I don’t have this epic excuse or anything. I was just being a stupid fuck. I was trying to make myself believe that I wasn’t being a complete jackass. I had convinced myself that you were miserable and you didn’t want to be with me.” His eyes searched yours, begging you to believe him. “After you left I thought I had done the right thing, that I wouldn’t feel so messed up anymore. And it did, but then I buried myself in alcohol, partying, and other girls. Hell that even worked for a time, but nothing could fill the hole in my heart. One particularly wild and embarrassing night, the paps caught up to us. And well...Ashton told me you saw the photos and that’s what brought it full circle Y/N. Even though we were no longer together I knew I had to find a way to tell you why I ruined us. I owed you that much. I wish I had planned what happened yesterday but I had no idea you would be here. The boys told me you had moved in with your college friends and I never questioned it. Never believed that you would move back home and didn’t even realize how close their Airbnb was. I had been living in a trance the last month and I think the boys knew seeing you would break me out of it.”
He stopped here, and reached over to grab your hands. You pulled back at his touch, very unsure as to how you were feeling about everything he just revealed.
“You still haven’t told me why Luke. Why did you end it?”
“I was scared.”
“Bullshit, that’s a coward's answer and you know it.”
“You’re right, I was a coward. But that’s the truth Y/N I swear by it. I was scared of how much I loved you and it terrified me that you could walk out on me one day. So I pushed you away. I convinced myself that I was no good for you. That I was a cancer to your life. I told myself that you were miserable living in L.A., that you missed your friends and family and you were alone too much due to my schedule. I told myself that it wasn’t fair what I was doing to you and that I was ruining your life. So I told you all those lies six months ago so that you would hate me and it worked,” he chuckled darkly.
You were shocked, after all this time you were getting a reasoning behind your heartbreak and it wasn’t what you thought. Or what you wanted. You always assumed there was someone else or something else that he wanted more than you, but he was just scared? He was being raw and honest with you and although it wasn’t a groundbreaking revelation, you knew it was the truth.
“Y/N, can you say something?”
“I’m just processing. Of all the reasons I never thought….” you trailed off as your mind was racing. “Luke I always thought it was because of her. That she was giving you something I wasn’t.”
He grabbed your hands again, and this time you didn’t retract. Your eyes met his and you could see the pain in them.
“That was never the case, she was supposed to just be another stupid escape but when the photos were published I went with it. I thought if I looked happy to the rest of the world that maybe I would start to believe the lie. But once Ash told me you saw those pictures of that night, I broke it off with her. None of the boys knew, but I couldn’t stand the thought of you seeing me like that. She is my biggest regret since pushing you away.” You just nodded slightly. “I really am disgusted with how I hurt you Y/N. You were the best thing that happened to me and I will never forgive myself for making you feel that way.”
“Luke it’s-well it's not okay what you did, but I do believe you. I believe that you were scared of losing me but you should have talked to me about those fears. You were my world Luke, I gave up my life here to be with you and you never asked me to do that. Every decision I made was my own, and you should not have taken my decision away from me. You broke me Luke and I had to pick up the pieces by myself. The past six months have been impossibly hard, but I am stronger because of it. So ironically I should thank you for the pain you put me through. Before you I didn’t know what love was and what it felt like to be loved. I also know what I deserve in a relationship and how I should be treated. You treated me like an equal up until that night which is why it was so hard to accept what had happened. You also taught me to fight for what I want. I should have fought harder for you to talk to me but I was so shocked I just left. So yes, you broke my heart but somehow I’m okay.”
You broke your gaze from his and picked up the scrapbook he was looking at. Smiling at the memories you had preserved.
“You know I haven’t looked at any of this stuff since I moved in here. Seeing you last night was shocking, but I’m glad it was you who brought my phone back. Though I am still going to kill Ashton and Mikey for pulling this shit. I’m glad we talked.”
You looked back at him and saw him staring intently at you once more. A small smile danced across his lips. He reached out and took the scrapbook from you, placing it back on the table. He had his whole body turned towards you, and laced his fingers through yours. It was a familiar feeling and warmth spread from him to you.
“Y/N I know I have no right to ask your forgiveness but I am. I miss you, I miss being with you and I’m here asking - no begging for a second chance to prove myself to you. To prove that I am no longer scared and that I am still worthy of calling you mine. Do you think we could try again?”
The emotion in his voice was evident, he meant every word that he said and you knew if you decided to give him a chance that he would do everything he could to prove himself to you. You could feel it in your bones that he was still in love with you, and you knew that you never stopped loving him. But it was one thing to love him, and another to trust him after everything he did.
“I’m not sure I can forgive you just yet Luke. And as much as I want to forget it all happened, we can’t just pick up where we left off.”
The hope in his eyes dimmed as the words left your mouth. His whole demeanor changed, his shoulders dropped and he let out a small sigh. 
“I get it, not the answer I wanted but thank you for being honest.” He stood to go, obviously feeling uncomfortable at staying any longer. “Thanks for hearing me out, I uh, I hope we can still be friends.” He gave you a slight smile and headed towards the door.
You stood up and reached out for his hand, pulling him back towards you.
“I said we can’t go back to how it was, I didn’t say we couldn’t go out for some pancakes.”
Before you knew it, he swept you into a hug, holding you as close as possible. He pulled back slightly and you saw the biggest grin plastered onto his face as he looked down at you.
“Pancakes sound perfect.”
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vintagegoddess12 · 3 years
Text
Lie To Me (2)
[Cordelia Goode x Reader]
A/N: Advanced Happy Holidays, everybody! Thanks for your support in every little crazy work that I put out, even if I give very slow updates. The tag part is very incomplete I feel. All of you that asked to be part of the taglist are scattered in so many post. I have to scroll really deep in my very messy timeline just to see yah names. If I forgot to tag you, please don’t be upset. Just DM. No worries, I love entertaining your requests tho. Part 2 is here with Student!Delia x Student!Reader feels. Hope you enjoy it!
Tags: @ravenforce​ @cordeliasflowergirl​ @athenamgh​ @stevenuniversetanzanite​ @germansarechill​ @chonisbestmistake​ @alurous​ @coconutlipss​ @saucy-sapphic​ @ghiblitearss​ @emilyprentisswife​ @thats-my-peach​ @suckerforsally​ @worldssocialantisocial​ @shelby-victoria7​ @madamvirgo​ 
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Cordelia’s POV
Shit! That was the first thought that crossed Cordelia's mind when she heard [Y/N]'s voice fill the room. She wasn't supposed to be here yet. "Delia," your presence immediately affecting the composure of the young witch, "what are you doing?" She tried to excuse her way out of the situation when no words came out of her. You stood in front of her, waiting for an answer when the unconscious man stirred from the bed. Cordelia's gaze remained fixed on your face, still trying to recover from the shock of being discovered red-handed. "This bitch tried to-" "Oh, shut up, Dan." you immediately cut-off the guy and sent him back to sleep. Your hands found Delia's shoulder, shaking her back to reality. The blonde looked at you, her roommate, and mustered the courage to answer her previous question. "It wasn't supposed to do that." "Do what?" Myrtle's question hung in the air as the two young witches remained silent, watching their instructor stand in their bedroom doorway. The redhead witch glanced at the unconscious body on Delia's bed before returning her attention to her impossibly silent ward. "If you're not going to answer me," Myrtle paused to take a hit from her signature cigarette, " you will answer to the council." She proceeded to walk away.   Delia turned to you, fear, and panic present in her eyes. "Why would the council be involved?" You took a deep breath as if summoning all the patience left in you before answering. "There's an unconscious spellbound warlock in our bedroom," Cordelia's eyes went wider as you continued, "who happens to be a Level 2. Of course, the council will be involved." This time, Cordelia no longer had the energy to hide her vulgarity and simply exhaled, "Shit." [Y/N] looked at the body and agreed. "Shit indeed."
As the two young witches are ushered by Myrtle down to the living room, where the Council has convened, Cordelia can't help but remember how everything started. 
"You will be happy here," Myrtle whispered in my ear as I watched my mother drive away from the academy. Once Fiona decides that it's time, it is time. You do not question the Supreme, you learn that early in life about her. I flashed a smile to Myrtle after Spalding took my luggage and went ahead of us. The redhead witch ushered me up the stairs as she gives me an introductory lesson about the house and its tenants. "You will be a great addition to this year's class," she remarks after seeing some of her students, dressed in black, pass by. They gave me a double look before fully walking away. I don't think that's welcoming at all. "Do we have to wear black all the time?" I blurted out just as we stopped in front of a bedroom door. Myrtle, who is obviously wearing a gold-themed outfit, looked at me like I just spoke alien. "It's just that I've always seen Mother dressed in black." "Cordelia, darling, don't be ridiculous." She caressed my hair before continuing, "Your mother may be the Supreme but she's not as good as I am when it comes to fashion." I was taken aback by how bold her statement is against Fiona. I never thought anyone had the guts to say something ill of her, especially not one from her council. "You can absolutely wear anything you like, dear." She knocked on the door as she said, "$4,000 per fit is the limit for your age range." I laughed softly at her remarks. I think I'll love her. She looks at me like there's something special in me. That's something you would not get when you stand in front of literally the most powerful witch on Earth. She opened the door and led me inside. The room had two beds, placed on opposite corners, with white sheets covering them. The bed beside the door was unmade while the one near the window had a heap of clothes on it. The sunrays give the room a heavenly feel. It's warm and homey. I think I like it. Suddenly, the bathroom door on our left opened and a woman emerged wearing only a bathroom towel. She had her hair in a bun and droplets of water run down her exposed skin. Her sight made my throat dry and I had to clear my throat just to remain focused. The sound I made did not go unnoticed by the two witches in the room.   You glanced at our reflections in the mirror; your eyes showing surprise in an instant. You looked back at us and flashed a smile before saying, "give me a second." You looked back into the mirror and snapped your fingers. In an instant, the bathroom towel was replaced by a black dress with spaghetti straps. The sudden display of magic made me jump a little and I can feel the experienced witch beside me chuckle a little. "[Y/n], why don't you introduce yourself here." You walked towards us and flashed the sweetest smile I've ever seen in my life. You squinted your eyes before introducing yourself. "[Y/N] [Y/L/N]. You held my gaze, as long as I did. "Cordelia." I shifted on my feet under your gaze. "You'll be sharing the room with her, [y/n]," Myrtle pat my back, "for the whole duration of your stay in this coven." Still entranced by your smile, the pat on my back jolt me back to consciousness. "Which bed will I be using?" You pointed at the bed near the window before looking in that direction. "That one," your excited tone turned embarrassed upon seeing the bed situation. You gave me a sheepish smile as you wave your hand to move the clothes on your bed. "[Y/N], what did I say about using magic for trivial things?" You smiled at the reprimand given and mouthed sorry to the older witch. "I'll leave you two to check on our dinner." We both nodded in her way. As she was walking out the door, she turned back and said, "[y/n], behave." "When am I not?" You replied teasingly and closed the door. I walked towards the bed and noticed that my luggage was nowhere to be found. I looked under and near the bed but there was none. You must have noticed my actions. "You looking for your things?" You asked leaning on the door. "Yes." "Yeah, Spalding checks the luggage of newcomers," you sat on the edge of your bed, "to see if anyone brought any illegal items." I mimicked your action and sat on mine, silence blanketing the room for the first time. It didn't last long though. "So Cordelia," my name felt natural coming out of your lips, "where have I heard that name before?" Confusion is evident on your face. "Actually, it's Cordelia Goode." "Oh," your immediate response, "the daughter." It was now my turn to look confusingly, which you picked up easily. "People have been buzzing about you here," you started folding the heap of black clothes. "Supreme's daughter and all." I get this every time I go somewhere she's known. I shook my head and said, "too bad nothing's special about me." You looked like you were personally offended by the statement. "Everyone's special in their own way-" I was about to disagree when you raised your hand, "-trust me." A knock echoed through the room that cut off our conversation. You opened the door, revealing Spalding with my things. I stood from my bed and retrieved my belongings from the butler. You thanked him and closed the door. I started unpacking - looking - for that family heirloom from my grandmother that I tried to take with me here. I opened my jewelry box and discovered that it wasn't there. "Shit," I muttered. "You okay there, Cordy?" My head turned sharply in your direction, surprised by the nickname. I opened my mouth trying to come up with an answer only to have nothing. I don't understand why I get flustered easily in your presence. "If it's okay, I'll call you Cordy." You explained. I nodded. "I don't see any problem with that." I kinda like it actually. "So," your tone concerned, "is anything wrong?" "I think my mother bribed the butler to get a family heirloom that I may have smuggled here," I replied, trying to feign innocence. You let out a chuckle causing you to smile, the kind that I will look forward to in the years to come. "That's an oddly specific request to make, don't you think?" You said in between laughter. "She may have asked me about it before leaving the house," I replied. Somehow, my reply made you laugh even more. At this point, I don't even mind being funny if I can hear that laugh every time. "Oh, honey," the pet name causing goosebumps in my arm for some unknown reason. "You do know that putting 'may haves' in your statement doesn't necessarily make it hypothetical." "I see that now," was all I could say while trying to hide the blush forming on my cheeks. You smiled before giving advice that I should have taken seriously, "Do me a favor and don't try to lie. You're terrible at it." --- [Y/N]’s POV Fleming. Pembroke. Snow. Three respected witches and ally that stands as the Coven's Council. Three sets of eyes that did not hide how displeased they are with what happened. If that wasn't enough, Fiona Goode is in the room to witness all of this. Myrtle, who is seated in the middle, asked the first question to the two young witches in front of them. "Who cast the first spell to Dan Miller?" Her eyes darting between Cordelia and yours. "A Level 2 warlock," Quentin Fleming added. Cecily Pembroke did not miss the chance to speak up after, "who shouldn't even be in the premises;" clearly insinuating something. You and your roommate remained silent. You sense her cowering from the death stare being shot to her by her own mother, who is constantly blowing out smoke from the other side of the room. "I am going to ask again. Who-" "Myrtle, this is a waste of time." The Supreme spoke as she moves towards the both of you. "They're young. They're witches." Her gaze now burning through your skin. "Just because you didn't fool around, doesn't mean they shouldn't." She looked at you like she can read you from head to toe. With the extent of her powers, she probably can. Myrtle huffed. It was no secret that the two older witches have great animosity between them that started since they lived at the academy. For you to see it in action, that was another thing. Their relationship is the total opposite of what you and Cordelia have. You're inseparable. It only has been months but you're pretty sure you found a second home whenever she's around. So you know that whatever she did, it was an accident. "I did it," you confessed. Cordelia sharply turned her head in your direction, not minding that her mother is standing in front of her. You remained looking at the Council of three to gauge their reaction. Fiona, who is now moving away from your periphery, looks so pleased she might- Actually, you don't know. You have no idea what type of kindness the Supreme can show you. The redhead let out an exasperated sigh. As if she expected this kind of behavior from you. "What did you do?" "Dan is my boyfriend," you can feel the raised eyebrows and judgment. "I mean was, probably, because I'm pretty sure we'll break up after all of this." There's no lie to this. Cordelia looked down once again, feeling sorry for what she did. You continued to explain, as you make up the story on the fly. "Which is the point of the spell." Myrtle urged you to go on. "I've been trying to break up with him. I've said it nicely. Politely." Your face now turning sour, "but he just keeps coming back." This is where the fiction begins. "So I thought, maybe I can urge him to break up with me if I use my powers on him." Quentin looked puzzled before asking his question. "What is her power anyway?" Myrtle, who tended to you since birth, replied, "reality alteration." You continued. "I didn't know the spell would fail, terribly. When he started to wake up, he started asking questions, So I sent him back to sleep." You gulped, ready to cement the lie. "That's when Cordelia walked into our room. Followed by Myrtle." "See it was just a lover's quarrel," the Supreme quipped from behind. The redhead looks like she's so close to throwing a vase at her. "If you had relations with a non-witch individual, we wouldn't be here." Myrtle stood up to further emphasize her point. "But you know that any spell used against our brothers and sisters is considered a grave offense." "I never meant to hurt him," you reasoned. "I just want to lead him to the idea of breaking up." The small sobs of Cordelia did not go unnoticed in your hearing. "Besides, this wasn't the first time a spell is used in the course of the relationship." The instant stopping of the typewriter signaled that even Pembroke was surprised. "What do you mean?" She said. "We've used certain spells," you paused thinking if saying this was the right thing. Delia couldn't even look at you whenever you recount your romantic adventures to her. You continued, "to heighten certain experiences." "It still doesn't change the fact-" Myrtle once again was cut off by her archnemesis. "Enough," the commanding voice of the Supreme filled the halls. "She already admitted it. She said she never meant to hurt him. She went as far as to recount a personal memory just so you would understand." The council member did not hide how she tried to bite her tongue before speaking up. "Let me remind you that you are here as Cordelia's mother and not as [y/n]'s lawyer." Delia once told you how sharp her mother's eyes can be when she's mad. If looks could kill, Myrtle would probably be dead now. The sound of her stilettos was crisp against the tiled floor. She situated herself in front of the Council's table, starting the three of them down. If that's even possible. You took this time to see how your Cordy is doing. "Hey," you whispered. She looked up to you, not knowing how puffy her eyes had been. "You didn't have to do this, you know." Her sobs now getting weaker. You send a small smile her way before replying. "Yes, I have to because he's my baggage and you, honey, are still terrible in lying." You reached her hand to give her a squeeze. A little reminder that you're still here, beside her - always. Turning your attention back to the staring contest in front of you. You realized that 2 out of the 3 are already hunkered at the sheer proximity of their Supreme. It's actually a surprise that Myrtle can hold her own against her. "Let me remind you," Fiona's voice laced with poison, "that I am your Supreme." Your mentor clenched her jaw before sitting down - a sign of submission. Cordelia sat on her bed, waiting for you to come back from the Council deliberation. She insisted she wanted to stay but her mother is not the person she would say no to. So here she is, worried for whatever punishment you'll receive that should have been hers. There is no doubt she's beating herself up. She just wanted to help you get rid of Dan. She absolutely did not want it to go this way. Such a stupid, reckless mistake. The door opened to reveal you, with Fiona behind. The young witch jumped from the bed and hugged you like it's second nature. Your hands found her back and relished at the warmth her body emanates. "Hey, everything's fine." You cooed. You can feel her jaw move against your skin before you hear her say, "Are you sure? You're not getting burned at the stake?" The both of you heard Fiona chuckled as you release her daughter from the embrace. "The next time the two of you want to play boner hot potato, can you do it without attracting the Council?" Delia was about to react when she felt your hand stop her from doing so. She leaned into the touch, always welcoming whatever physical affection you give her. "Noted, ma'am." You replied before the Supreme walked away. "I'm really sorry," Cordelia sat you down and never let go of your hand. You sent a soft smile her way before replying. "I know you are but," you pulled her to sit beside you, "why did you use re vera falsum on him?" Cordy fidgeted with her hands, unable to look at you. Your hand reached for hair and caressed it all the way down to her back; a simple action that sent chills down her spine. Still unable to answer, you next asked her, "Do you like him?" Cordelia was obviously shocked by the question because not only did she stop fidgeting, she also looked up to you with wide eyes. "I mean you could have just told him that you wanted a threesome or something, he would probably say yes," you continued. "No," she shook her head. "No, I don't." You looked at her, trying to understand why she did- "Do you not like him..." you paused to put pieces together, "for me?" Once again, Cordelia felt shame inside, and looked down before saying, "I'm really sorry." To be completely honest, you would have settled with a nod as a response to the question. 
It's not in her character to meddle in your romantic life and you're pretty sure that her reason runs deeper than simply helping you break it off with him. You shrugged it off and told yourself that this is a conversation for another day or decade. You shot her a smile before replying, "it's okay. Just remember you can't use re vera falsum ever." Her eyes did not hide the curiosity that she instantly tried to bury. "Did Fiona really not tell you anything about our heritage?" "Only that she's the most important part of it," she quipped. "Well, Cordy," you made yourself comfortable on the bed, "let me tell you about the only witch alive who can alter reality."
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Text
Infatuation P9
Joe Goldberg x Reader x Love Quinn
Warnings: Kidnapping.
Notes: I’m currently rewatching Hannibal for the 10th time since it’s on Netflix now. Honestly there will never be a show that hits the same way 😔💝 I hope you like the POV whiplash in this.
My name is Y/N L/N.
I’m a freelance writer with no notable published works. Everything I’ve written has been private, but I dream of a day where I can share it.
My mother moved to L.A. so she could follow her dreams. I always supported her, but I left. It’s hard to stay for someone when you feel unsafe- and at the time, I felt unsafe.
I had some friends. One of them was named Love Quinn. She was very pretty, but didn’t have a filter growing up. At my age now, I’d consider her crazy for saying the things she did, but we were young and children tend to be kind of crazy.
Her brother, Forty, used to tag along with us. I didn’t really think much of him. He always trailed behind, weird, awkward. I can’t say I didn’t like him, because he asked me out and I said yes.
But as we got older, Love eventually opened up to me about a secret. I hated to hear it, I really did. It kept me up at night, and I felt my morals tear.
Forty killed someone.
At the time, I had gone on a date with him. I think he believed us to be official after that, but I heard Love loud and clear and couldn’t shake the feeling off. Every simple thing he did made me overthink. I felt like I would be next in line to get the cut.
Forty had blacked out when it happened, but that only worried me more. Would I be able to stop him? I don’t know, but I didn’t want to test the waters.
I had to leave.
~
I don’t think I meant to do that.
When I came back to my senses, you were unconscious and on the ground.
And— and I kind of just... stared. You’re on the sidewalk at my feet, laying on your side. I have no recollection of dropping you. How long have I just been standing here?
Whoever was in that car saw me— saw us. But it’s long gone and I can’t let you go now, too much is at risk. Oh god, Y/N... why’d it have to happen this way.
Wait. If I... if I take you with me. Home? No, no. Th-The storage locker. Yeah. I have something there that can... help. Wow, my heart is beating right out of my chest! The jumps are starting to hurt, but I can’t help it. I think I’m getting excited.
I reach down to pick you up and sling you over my shoulder. You’re heavier than I thought you’d be, but that’s probably because you’re completely limp.
I look both ways and cross the street to get to my car. It’s still late and the sky seems just as dark as it was when I got here.
When I open the trunk, I look you over... You’re not dead, I don’t know what I’m thinking. The trunk? Come on, Joe...
I let go of the luggage, open the back door and try to lay you down gently, but your head hits the seat with a smack. I momentarily cringe back, hoping you won’t feel it in the morning.
I try to maneuver you around into a seated position, you have to look natural. As I crawl over you to lift your upper body, you moan. My face heats up and I reluctantly back out of the backseat. I tell myself to just... drive slowly, you’ll be fine like this. If anyone stops us, you’re drunk, passed out, and I’m driving you back home.
Your luggage was thrown into the trunk, I didn’t give it much care when I tossed it in. My mind is elsewhere and I almost feel like this isn’t happening. Y/N. Shit. You didn’t have to do this, you didn’t have to force my hand like that.
I fix my rearview mirror and catch a glimpse of you. You... almost look dead, but I can see your chest raising and falling with your light breathing.
Bringing you inside of the storage locker was simple. You were still passed out, there was no fight when I dragged you along with me. Lucky me, am I right? Lucky me, I have to maneuver my life around another ridiculous obstacle. I’m finding myself in this position a lot but you’d think I’d be better about it by now. Well, I like to think I’ve become more adept in some aspects.
Once we are inside, I lay you on the cold floor and pull the storage door down.
You groan and my head snaps in your direction. Oh no.
I quickly make my way to your shifting form and bend down to run my hands over your sides, searching your pockets. Where’s your fucking phone? Shit, there’s no time to freak out over this. You’re waking up and I’m not about to knock you out again.
I grab you by the arms and drag you inside the glass cage. Do I really want to call it that? Not really. I’d prefer it be referred to as more of a... I don’t know. It’s a box made of glass. It was previously being used to store these old books, but they’re long gone. If I told you about what I used it for this past year, would you understand? Probably not. Your freak out earlier should be enough of a clear cut answer.
Before you start to tightly blink your eyes, adjusting them to the awful light, I’m already outside the enclosure and closing the door between us.
Your head looks heavy as you try to lift it. Your legs curl up into yourself as you begin to take notice of your surroundings. I can tell you don’t understand, you look so lost. I almost feel bad.
You sit up quickly and back yourself into a corner with your head spinning. Don’t make yourself sick, Y/N.
I’m watching you from the other side of the glass, finally letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in.
Watching you curl up in the corner of the cage hits me in such a familiar way.
“W-Will?” I hear you mumble meekly as you rub your eyes. I don’t respond. I can’t respond. I just want to watch.
“Will, where are we?” You ask, pressing your head into the glass behind you and looking toward me. Your face contorts as some form of reality begins to settle in.
“Please don’t...” Your voice falters and I notice your weak attempt to hold back tears. I feel guilty but I can’t imagine letting you go, especially now. We just... we just need to talk it out before I make any more decisions.
You’re sobbing now. It’s sad to listen to as you choke on your own breath.
“Y/N, calm down.” I say, pressing my hand to the glass. If you’re not careful, you’ll make yourself pass out. Besides, I’m exhausted. So exhausted. I don’t want to babysit you right now, I’d much rather be sleeping in Love’s bed.
“P-Please don’t kill m-mee!” You beg with a weak excuse for a voice. Watching, I can’t help but inhale sharply. God, I just want you to shut up.
“Listen to me-“ I try to speak, but you cut me off.
“LEAVE ME ALONE!” I flinch back.
There it is. The sudden need to leave.
Maybe if I leave, you’ll calm down. Maybe if I leave, you’ll figure things out on your own and realize that crying about it all is a waste of time. Should I deprive you of water too? Joe. Come on, Joe. Don’t act rash, you’re just angry.
Hopefully some rest will benefit the both of us.
I try to say my goodbyes, but you just cover your ears and cry out like a child.
When I finally make it apparent that I’m leaving, you begin to settle down.
But it’s too late, I’m securing my cap back onto my head and sliding the locker door up.
Once the door is down again, I lock it. I might’ve heard you say ‘wait’... I think. But what does it matter? You’re being a brat, despite my generosity. I could’ve done something much worse to you, you know?
Listen. Whatever you’ve heard— whatever you think you know about me- I think you’re getting it wrong. I’m not that bad, Y/N. I’m a good person, I care about you, I care about Love... and ultimately I care about us.
Don’t force me to do something so awful for something so minimal.
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tarithenurse · 4 years
Text
Unsolicited
Starring: Avengers Loki x fem!reader, Sam Wilson Contents: Description of sexual harassment/lewd behaviour, hinting at violence and threats, fluff. A/N: Got inspired after a conversation with @maladaptive-ninja-returns​. Enjoy, hon! And nope: I didn’t proof this bc it’s 4:22 in the morning/night and I should be sleep but insomnia/anxiety is a bitch so you’re getting it raw ;)
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...  Loki   ...
She groans as she tosses the phone aside with a disgusted wrinkle on her nose. How is that supposed to not make him curious? Naturally, he has no right to grab the phone when she leaves the room about an hour later, but as the God of Mischief...well, she really has brought it upon herself, hasn’t she?
Flicking through the various apps and tabs, he finally finds what must be the cause of her disgust: a message from a contact labelled “Jerk” with an image attached of his sorry excuse for a cock. Nothing in the preceding chat calls for such a picture. From the few lines, Loki surmised that [Y/N] must have exchanged numbers with the person last she was out partying and that she’s since come to regret it – a fact “Jerk” seems intent on ignoring.
“Someone should teach him some manners,” the god muses.
For months (though it feels like more) he’s been adoring [Y/N] from a distance, contending himself with the friendly stage in their relationship the two have found. The idea of pursuing it further, though tempting, seems an impossibility with the sins he’s committed in the past compared to her sweet innocence. Still, he will do everything in his power to make her happy and right now that requires ridding her of a nuisance.
Stuffing the phone in his pocket, he goes in search for the only person he is sure can help him with this particular task.
“Romanova!”
...  Reader   ...
It makes no sense. You’ve looked everywhere but there’s no sign of your phone – not in or under the couch where you’d spent most of the day, not on the coffee table (and you’d even removed every single magazine and checked in every mug left behind by your co-Avengers), pockets are all empty too, and after that you’ve tried every room you’ve been to. The kitchen was meticulously combed to check cabinets, fridge, drawers, even cereal boxes and the trash can...no luck. The bathroom is barren with the exception of the neat row of toiletries on the shelf. Bedroom? Nothing...but at least you ended up changing the sheets finally. Even your purse have been emptied out completely without giving a clue. By the time you stomp back into the living room to start over, it feels like you’re going crazy!
“Wassup?” Sam’s lounging in a chair with his own phone, making you miss your own all that much more.
Ass up and head on the floor to look under the book case, you mumble a reply.
“Wassat?”
“I am,” you groan as you sit on your haunches and dust yourself off, “looking for my fucking phone!”
“Tried calling it?”
You glare at him. “With what? Smoke signals?”
Man, he’s annoying when he grins like that. “You could just ask for help, girl.” His fingers are already flicking across the screen. “Is it on silent?”
“Nah, don’t think so...”
Still on your knees, you scoot over to see him tap your name on his contacts list. How long can it take to connect? It’s Stark tech! There’s a muted tooping from the tiny speakers and a moment later both of you swivel your heads in the direction of tinny sound of Chic’s “Le Freak”.
“I can dig that,” Sam nods approvingly.
You don’t care to answer, instead hurrying down the hall to the source of the music and as you skid around the corner you barely avoid slamming face first into Loki’s chest.
“Oh.”
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Hey!” Why does he have my phone? It’s right there in his big hand and even if the melody stops just then, there’s no denying it. “That’s mine! Where’d you find it?”
Hesitating a second too long, he hands it back to you with a sheepish shrug. “I took the liberty of borrowing it.”
What?! “Dude...you could have asked first.”
Borrow? Oh he better not have read my chats with Wanda! You’re fairly certain the witchy girl is the only one to know about your huge crush on the raven-haired god and you’d prefer if it stayed that way. For months, she’s been trying to coax you into asking him out and every time you’ve been building up the courage she’s nudged you on with quick snapshots of the man – all taken when he wasn’t aware and most favouring his jawline or ass. Nope, you do not want Loki to find out about any of that.
“I realize...however, when I saw what had aggravated you, I decided to act in your defence immediately.”
“Huh?”
Indignation burns in his eyes. “The aptly labelled Jerk and his heinous indiscretion.”
“The...the dick-pic...”
Loki nods gravely. “I went to Miss Romanova, seeing as she’s particularly adept with Midgardian technology as well as exquisite methods to get people to...cooperate.”
At least now the somberness is gone but it has been replaced by a wicked smile which you aren’t at all certain you want to know the reason for. Sure, you would have liked to strangle the offender, but a moment to calm down had been enough to help you shrug the attempt at an advance off. The jerk isn’t worth spending your energy on.
“Is...is he...alive?” It’s not that you’re worried per se, just slightly concerned if the handsome god is getting into trouble.
“He is, but rest assured that he’s learned his lesson,” Loki smiles, “he will never bother you or anyone else again.”
Something in the air shifts as he speaks. You can’t put your finger on what it is, you just know that it feels like you’re standing on a high cliff above the sea and a slight breeze could push you over the edge. More importantly, it’s a dive you know would be heavenly. To be held in a cool embrace, safe from the thrashing of the waves above as you ride a the currents the same colour as Loki’s eyes. Loki’s eyes. Loki’s oh shit I’m staring! Snapping back to reality, you decide it’s safer to look at your feet as you tug away your phone.
“I’m uhm thank you,” you ramble feeling the heat of embarrassment spread through your body. “Yes. Yes, thank you.”
Wanting to get away, you turn the door handle and hurry inside the room, closing the door behind you. Daymn, that was close. You back slides down the smooth material of the door as you let out a long sigh. Maybe he didn’t notice though.
A knock shakes you from your silent prayer. “[Y/N]? Are you alright?”
“Yes! Yes, I’m fine! Absolutely!”
“Good.” It doesn’t sound like he leaves, and sure enough: after a moment Loki’s voice comes through the door again: “How come you’ve entered my quarters then?”
“...”
You know right away that there’s no recovering from this as your eyes take in the surroundings sporting green and gold colours paired with dark furniture in a classical yet modern style. Oh, maaaan. Getting to your feet, you shamefully open the door for the actual owner of the room.
“...sorry,” you manage a whisper.
Turning to leave, a cool hand grabs yours to halt you. “You are welcome to stay...in fact...I’d quite like if you did.”
“You would?” I’mdreamingI’mdreamingI’mdreamingI’mdreaming!
It doesn’t feel like a dream when a finger under you chin tilts your face up, though.
“Very much. Perhaps, you’ll allow me to show you the proper art of courting a lady such as you?”
“I’d like that...very much...”
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