sandushengshou · 1 year ago
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every now and then really bad opinions about my fav characters make it to my dash and i just have to sit here like 
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whosname · 2 years ago
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Yeah, did a cat Gintoki version, but he would say it more in that "I AM WOUNDED" Frasier tone, like, HOW DARE YOU?
Also, sketch
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Cat Gintoki is easier to draw tha cat Zura, but, again, naturally wavy hair cat, naturally wavy hair me
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I know, right @sebfreak?
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dathen · 2 years ago
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anonymusbosch · 1 year ago
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welp. meow meow meow
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abyssalpriest · 1 year ago
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unrelated to that lmfao
i love being not (insert religions based on the kings and their people as ''demons'') but being adjacent to the communities while knowing the kings on a personal level because oh boy
#like i wont get into the Chrxstian God And The Kings' ''Fall'' rumour i did the other day but things like that and like#posts being like ''oh they love everyone all of us each of us'' and talking about The Lore of down there thats like. so clearly#twisted to be pro-(kings) propaganda and im like oh my god. if you worship them BECAUSE of these details you think are right then#im so fucking sorry they are way more complex and grey-moral than this#- i have to be clear. i do not know anything anyone says is false if its their worldview. Im not sitting here laughing because i think othe#s are Dumbdumb and cant get across the kings as Flawlessly as me uwu or some shit im explicitly talking about people saying#definitively that the chrxstian god did xyz thing and the kings are poor little meow meows and love everyone while also saying they#dont love everyone bc they vehemently disagree with chrxstians and stuff like. ''('demons') are actually the Pure sacred race theyre all#old gods theyre all pro-human and would never hurt a practitioner'' that type of stuff im like. ahhhhhhhh. so youve heard the propaganda#bc lets be real here i do NOT doubt any of these people's abilities its not my place so i dont even do it quietly to myself. very rarely#yes but like 1% of the time and its only when a bunch of red flags pop up but like. there are so many people on the kings' plane that#are telling humans these things bc......... well look at the goetic demons. royalty and people in power. who do people mainly go#to for demonolatry? The people in their society we understand to be kings. princes. dukes and duchesses. are they all these things? no#like Duke Vepar isnt a Duke lmfao i know her personally like she'll present like that but. imagine if that race wanted to talk to people of#our plane but only spoke to the english king/queen and dukes and duchesses and marquis and war generals and stuff to ask about#their civilisations. do you think that theyd get an unbiased view of the monarchy and the english religion and whatnot........#edit: so like we're really clear. its like seeing people brainwashed by fucked up politics bc. it is that.#sometimes you just have to laugh bc like god youre in deep and im so sorry#insert my ex (a spirit) lying to me and convincing me he was a video game character for five years like what else can you do but laugh#ramblings //
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strwbrymlkshake · 2 years ago
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ohh I do want to pass away why am I so stupid
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#mine#🎸#why am i such a terrible person 😇 genuinely what the fuck#me when i want to cry and tear my skin off over a minor mistake ufhdshdjfjg can i stop being fucking stupid for once#crying over a mistake right NOW actually everything is so difficult i dont know what im supposed to do in these situations!!!!!!!#i get in trouble for not knowing what to do in social situations then i have to apologize and i didnt know THAT either.#bashing my head against the wall violence maiming killing death torture bloodletting slicing tearing defenestrating murdering annihilating#me anmd my epic autism powers. shouldnt i know better why csnt you understand!!! who is at fault here! i dont even know#ashshsjdksjfklsfke im wanna cry so hard everything sucks right now im too busy for this shit. for Emotions#why are you punishing me do you hate me?! did you never even like me at all are you trying to make me mad!!! why#im so tired and frustrated i want everything to go perfectly but its not nothing can be perfect in this terrible world he is going to hate#me now. hell why do i have urges like this it always ruins everything im being so selfish arent i aren't i arent i !!!!!!!! why cant we#be FUCKING compatible and perfect snd everything what is the problem am i the problem?!?? why cant you understsnd what im trying to tellyou#maybe it really would just be better if i died nothing good has happened or is going to happen to me since he probably hates me and#my life sucks!!!!! my face hurts from crying i cant cry properly it hurts it feels so hot why cant it end already!!!!!!! why cant#we be perfect like we are supposed to why cant you UNDERSTAND it seems easy to understand to ME whwueh i am mortified my throat hurts#my head hurts i hate this world why couldnt i resist why did i have to be vulnerable id be better off if. well i dont know#i do want to crush bones and flesh beneath my hands to be honest i dont KNOW i thought it was going well i thought it was good#the thread i am hanging on by is quite thin actually why do i care so much why do i care so little im going to explode right meow!!!#my mood is so ruined i dont know if im even used to this whole thing i cannot get in particular moods im so. rgrhrhggr none of this post#is going to make sense i just need to say words while crying then itll be fine probably#this is just another one of god's little tests i think that everyone will hate me no matter what in the end so i have to enjoy it while#it lasts. no matter how hard i try everything always ends up the same way. all this started because of my mistakes and itll end with them
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jimingyue · 10 months ago
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Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator
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🖋️ meowful-musings Follow
🕊️ birdwatching Follow
what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine
💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204
op wheres the natural feeding option
🌲 outdoorsy Follow
you guys are getting fed?
#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look
7,192 notes
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☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!
☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3
🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow
as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3
#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....
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🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right
❤️ loving-paws284 Follow
um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...
🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow
OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD
🐟 tunafeesh Follow
also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly
🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks
anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse
#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now
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🍃 naturalliving Follow
BORN TO DIE
WORLD IS A FUCK
猫神 Kill Em All 1989
I am trash cat
410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS
#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly
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🎣 salmonpurina Follow
can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther
#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks
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💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!
🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow
evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever
💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
make your own pawst
💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721
umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...
👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow
Nyaverage shelter cat behavior
#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up
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🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo
💡 discourse-meows Follow
hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks
🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
1. i was making. a joak
2. i'm literally gay???
#literally what's your pawblem
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🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
i know you fuckers are lying
🍭 gaykittens Follow
this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
shut the heull up
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🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise
🐁 ladymouser Follow
op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control
🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us
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deadcatboys · 11 months ago
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having to put my piercings back in after top surgery made me want to die
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just-aake · 18 days ago
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A Feline Connection Part 3
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: Natasha gets a temporary roommate and ends up learning about what you’re hiding from her.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Warnings: light angst, violence, hurt/comfort, light fluff
Words: 6888
The quinjet touches down on the Compound’s landing pad, bringing Natasha back to the familiar surroundings after yet another frustrating mission. 
She stomps down the ramp, intent on heading straight to her room, needing to recuperate from the weariness of yet another surveillance operation gone wrong.
The USB drive she collected from the target at your apartment building held information about potential weapons locations, but every lead she followed turned out to be a dead end—empty warehouses and useless intel. 
She will need to re-evaluate everything she has to figure out where she went wrong, but for now, she was too exhausted to think about it.
Stepping into the elevator, Natasha presses the button for her floor. As the doors slide shut, FRIDAY’s voice chimes in from the speakers.
“Welcome back, Miss Romanoff. Mr. Stark is requesting your presence in the lab.”
Natasha groans, tipping her head back against the elevator wall. The last thing she wants to do is deal with Tony right now.
“Tell him to wait,” she mutters. “I just got back.” 
A moment of silence passes, and Natasha allows herself a sigh of relief.
But the peace is short-lived, as Tony’s voice suddenly blared through the speaker.
“Now, Romanoff! Get down here now! Your—hey! Don’t touch that, you little—”
Natasha frowns at the abrupt cut-off. She couldn’t help but wonder who he was yelling at this time.
Curiosity wins over her exhaustion, and she presses the button for his floor instead.
When the lab doors open, she is greeted by the sight of a frazzled Tony waving his hands angrily at a small dome-shaped force field on the table.
“How do you like that?” Tony grumbles, glaring at something inside the dome. “This is what happens when you keep touching things that aren’t yours.”
Natasha steps closer, raising a brow when she sees who he is talking to. 
Inside the force field, Widow is pawing at the barrier, her annoyed meows insistent and filled with frustration as if she is arguing back with him.
“Really, Stark?” Natasha says, crossing her arms with an unimpressed look. “You’re fighting with a cat?”
Tony turns to her, relief evident on his face as he grabs her arm and drags her closer to the trapped feline.
“Finally! Get your girlfriend’s pet out of my lab before she destroys something important!” 
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Natasha corrects with a roll of her eyes. 
Ever since Clint had accidentally stumbled upon one of the flirty texts exchanged between you and Natasha, the teasing from the team had been relentless. 
Despite the playful banter, you already made it clear that you weren’t looking for anything more than friendship right now, and Natasha can respect that. 
That’s not to say her current feelings toward you have disappeared, but she can be content with having your company as a friend. 
At least that’s what she tells herself.
Tony waves dismissively, “Yeah, yeah, sure. Just get that little troublemaker out of here.”
Natasha turns her attention back to Widow, who is now lying on her back inside the dome, looking up at her with wide, innocent eyes. 
Widow lets out a soft, adorable meow in greeting, prompting Natasha to place her hand against the surface of the force field with a small, amused smile.
In response, Widow stands and raises her paw, mimicking the motion and meowing softly.
“How did she even get in here?” Natasha asks, wondering if you are still nearby. 
“She took the elevator,” Tony replies flatly.
Natasha shoots him a skeptical look, but he points to the cat defensively.
“I’m serious! FRIDAY didn’t detect the little sneak until the elevator arrived on my floor. I walked in to find her scratching one of my suits.” 
Widow meows indignantly, offering Natasha a cute, pleading look as if to refute Tony’s accusations. 
“Don’t fall for it, Nat. She’s trouble,” Tony warns, glaring at the little creature. 
Shaking her head, Natasha disengages the force field and gives Widow a quick scratch behind the ears before turning to him with her hands on her hips.
“You’re overreacting, Tony. She’s practically harmless.”
At that moment, the sound of shattering glass fills the room.
Natasha turns to find a broken coffee mug on the floor, its contents spilled into a small puddle. Looking up toward the table, Widow is perched nearby, her paw still raised, clearly responsible for the destruction. 
Tony glares at the two of them and points toward the door.
“Out.”
Sighing, Natasha scoops up Widow just as she is about to jump onto another table. 
The cat lets out an offended yowl, but Natasha ignores it as she notices a small, folded piece of paper attached to the cat’s collar. 
“What’s this?” Natasha mutters.
Tony glances over before looking away, uninterested. 
“Don’t know, don’t care. She tries to scratch me whenever I go to grab it. Now, out of my lab.” 
With Widow in her arms, Natasha exits and makes her way to her room. 
Each time she reaches for the paper, the cat playfully swats at her hand, trying to nibble at her fingers. 
“Hey, no biting,” Natasha chastises, lightly tapping Widow on the nose in reprimand. 
After reaching her room, Natasha sets the cat down on the counter and pulls out a treat from the drawer.
She’s been stocking treats for the cat, just in case.
Widow’s eyes light up at the sight, and she begins to move towards it, but Natasha holds it just out of reach. 
“Ah, no, I’ll give you this once you let me grab that paper.” 
After a brief moment’s standoff, Widow releases a meow of surrender and tilts her head, allowing Natasha to retrieve the note. She offers the treat to the cat, who eagerly devours it, while Natasha’s other hand unfolds the paper.
Please take care of Widow for a couple of days There’s a backpack with everything she needs up on the roof Thanks, I owe you one, Miss Black Widow🖤 P.S. Tell Stark his west perimeter needs better security
Natasha couldn’t help but smirk in amusement at the last line.
She glances at Widow, who, after finishing her snack, is now comfortably lounging by the window, soaking in the sunlight.
“Looks like you’re staying with me for a while.”
Widow gives a lazy meow, completely at ease and utterly content in her new favorite spot. 
Natasha smiles at the cat fondly, but it fades as she re-read the note. 
Something didn’t feel right. 
Taking out her phone, she calls your number, only to hear the automated message indicating that the call couldn’t go through. 
Her frown deepens as she opens your recent text conversations—filled with photos of Widow and late-night talks—but nothing suggests you’d been planning for something where you’d need to leave Widow with her.
This must have been a sudden decision.
She quickly types out a message:
“Everything okay?”
The notification appears immediately:
Message not delivered.
Natasha’s concern grows as she stares at the screen, a sinking feeling settling in her chest.
As if sensing her unease, Widow hops down from her sunny perch and nudges Natasha’s leg with her head, purring softly as she rubs against her. 
The simple gesture pulls Natasha from her thoughts, offering a moment of comfort amidst her rising concern. She bends down, stroking the sleek fur along Widow's back in silent thanks.
"Well, you don’t seem too worried," Natasha mutters, her voice low in consideration.
Widow yawns in response, her back arching as she stretches lazily. 
The sight pulls a faint smile from Natasha, though it’s tinged with lingering apprehension. As much as she tries to dismiss her concern, the uneasy feeling still clings to her.
Glancing once more at the note, Natasha tells herself it’s probably fine. After all, you said it was only for a couple of days. 
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Later that night, Natasha steps out of the bathroom, her hair still damp from the quick shower. She absentmindedly dries her hair with a towel as she moves toward her bed, but upon reaching it, she pauses, her hands finding her hips as she takes in the sight before her.
At the foot of her bed, Widow is curled up, comfortably settled into the blankets, her little body rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep.  
Natasha huffs, a smile tugging at her lips.
“What’s the point of making you a cozy bed if you’re just going to sleep on mine?” she asks lightly, though her words are more affectionate than scolding. 
Widow, seemingly fast asleep, doesn’t stir at her words—at least, not right away. 
For a brief second, Natasha catches the subtle twitch of the cat’s ears, causing her to smirk knowingly and shake her head.
“Yeah, I’m not falling for that act again," she mutters, stepping forward and scooping the small cat into her arms. 
Widow’s eyes snap open, narrowing at her in protest. A soft, indignant meow escapes as she squirms, clearly displeased at being caught pretending.
She gives a half-hearted swipe at Natasha’s face, but Natasha easily dodges the playful gesture with a quiet chuckle.
“Nice try,” Natasha teases, holding Widow up to meet her gaze. 
Turning, she carries Widow over to the small, cozy bed she had arranged earlier near the window—a cushioned basket lined with a soft blanket, positioned to catch the warm morning sunlight.
“This is your bed,” Natasha says, setting Widow down on the plush surface.
Widow sniffs at the blanket curiously, circling a few times before settling into the cozy space. She let out a tiny, contented meow as if acknowledging the effort Natasha had put in. 
Satisfied that her new roommate has been adequately situated, Natasha heads to her bed. 
However, before she can take a step, a sharp, insistent meow echoes through the room. 
Natasha turns back to find Widow staring at her expectantly, her golden eyes locked on her. 
“What is it now?” Natasha asks, arching an eyebrow. 
Widow’s gaze shifts to the backpack you had left behind, filled with all her essentials.
Another meow follows, this time directed at the bag.
Curious, Natasha moves to the backpack, kneeling to unzip it. As she rummages through the contents—food, toys, grooming supplies—her fingers brush against something soft, tucked away in one of the inner pockets. 
Pulling it out, Natasha blinks in surprise. 
It was a small plush toy—a miniature Black Widow doll, complete with the signature red hair and black jumpsuit. 
“Seriously?” Natasha mutters to herself, an amused smirk forming on her lips. 
She wishes your phone was receiving messages so that she can tease you about this. It’s cute how you keep denying being a fan of hers.
Widow immediately perks up at the sight of the toy, her eyes wide with excitement. 
The moment Natasha places the small plush near her, the cat pounces on it with a delighted meow, her paws wrapping around it as she hugs the soft toy to her chest.
“Guess I’m your favorite Avenger, huh?” Natasha says softly, smiling warmly. 
Widow responds with a tiny, satisfied purr, her eyelids fluttering shut as she snuggles into the plush toy.
Natasha lingers by the window, watching the little feline drift off to sleep, her heart warmed by the scene. 
Once she is sure Widow has fallen asleep, Natasha returns to her bed, sitting at its edge. 
The exhaustion from the day weighed heavily on her, but something about the sight of Widow contently hugging the tiny plush toy had brought her a slight sense of peace. 
“At least one of us will have a good night’s sleep,” Natasha murmurs, glancing at the peaceful little ball of fur curled up in the basket. 
Stretching out on her bed, Natasha lies back against the cool sheets, her body grateful for the reprieve. 
Yet her mind refuses to relax. 
The day’s frustrations, the failed mission, and the nagging worry about your sudden departure churn restlessly in her thoughts.
She closes her eyes, hoping for the oblivion of sleep, but knowing it wouldn’t come easily.
Eventually, the darkness behind her eyelids pulls her under, but her rest is far from peaceful. 
Like always, her dreams are plagued by old memories—flashes of the Red Room, the harsh lights, the sharp smell of gunpowder and sweat. 
She sees faces, blurred and indistinct, and hears the deafening sound of explosions. 
Blood on her hands.
Her body feels heavy as if trapped, unable to move as the chaos envelopes her. 
With a sudden start, Natasha wakes, shooting up in her bed.
Her heart pounds in her chest as her breaths come out in short, uneven bursts. Sweat clings to her skin, and for a moment, she is disoriented, her mind still lost somewhere between the nightmare and the safety of the Compound. 
After a moment, the quiet room comes into focus around her, familiar but oppressive in the suffocating stillness of the night. 
With a tired sigh, Natasha wipes a hand over her face, trying to shake off the lingering images of the nightmare and regain her composure.
Then, a soft sound reaches her ears in the quiet—a gentle rustling.
Natasha turns her head next to her. 
Widow sits by her side, watching her intently with wide, concerned eyes. 
The little black cat tilts her head slightly, her ears twitching as if sensing Natasha’s turmoil. 
“Hey,” Natasha whispers, her voice rough with exhaustion. “Sorry, did I wake you?” 
She reaches out a hand, but pauses as the nightmare resurfaces—a memory of her hands bloodied. 
Natasha hesitates, pulling her fingers back, but before she can retreat fully, Widow nudges forward, nuzzling against her hand with a comforting purr that reverberates softly in the stillness of the room.
The warmth of Widow’s fur under her hand grounds Natasha, pulling her back from the edge of her spiraling thoughts. 
The cat presses closer, gently kneading the bed near Natasha’s arm, before moving into her lap.
For a long moment, Natasha sits there, frozen, focusing on the steady rise and fall of Widow’s tiny breaths. The calm presence of the cat was unexpectedly soothing, quieting the turmoil in her mind.
Widow’s purring intensifies, almost as if she’s trying to wrap Natasha in that sound, as if she understands something is wrong. 
Seeing the cat’s lack of fear and hesitation, Natasha exhales shakily, finally running her hand down Widow’s back in slow, gentle strokes.
“I’m okay,” she murmurs, more to herself than to the cat. “Just a bad dream.”
Widow doesn’t move, though, curling up closer against Natasha’s side, her little body a source of warmth. She lets out a soft, contented meow that vibrates with understanding. 
It’s as though she is telling Natasha that it’s okay not to be okay.
A small smile tugs at Natasha’s lips.
She hadn’t expected this quiet comfort from something so small, yet here it was, easing the weight of her fears and being a soft presence at her side.
“Thanks,” Natasha whispers, running her fingers through Widow’s fur. “I needed this.”
Widow shifts slightly, snuggling closer to her as if accepting the gratitude.
The room, which had felt suffocating just moments before, now seemed a little more bearable.
Natasha leans back onto the pillow, her fingers still idly stroking Widow’s fur, the rhythmic purring lulling her back into a sense of calm.
This time, when her eyes drift shut, the darkness doesn’t feel quite as oppressive. 
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Natasha sits on the couch, her posture relaxed but her mind miles away as she absently scrolls through her tablet. Reports, articles, and data streams pass her eyes as she picks at the remnants of her sandwich. Every lead for the mission had taken her nowhere, leaving her more frustrated than ever. 
As she finishes off the last bite, a headline catches her eye. 
“String of Break-ins Across the City: Police Diverting Resources to Combat Surge of Robberies” 
Her fingers pause mid-scroll, and her brows knit together in suspicion. Clicking on the article, she skims through the details.
Over the course of several nights, high-end neighborhoods had been targeted by a series of well-coordinated robberies. The police were scrambling to refocus their efforts, diverting resources to protect the wealthy districts while struggling to find the culprits.
Noticing something familiar, Natasha pulls up the coordinates of the locations she had previously investigated—the ones that were supposed to link to the weapons she was chasing.
As she compares the areas of the robberies with the sites she had scouted, a pattern begins to form. 
The break-ins and her failed leads overlapped in strange ways, both of them strategically avoiding a particular zone. 
Her suspicion deepens. It can’t be just coincidence.
She glances over at Widow, who is happily munching on her food, blissfully unaware of Natasha’s growing unease. 
The little black cat has kept her company whenever thoughts of your sudden disappearance bother her.
She still hasn’t been able to reach you, which only worsens the feeling that something is wrong. 
Natasha was close to asking FRIDAY to track your phone, but the part of her that respected your privacy hesitated.
But now, a possible explanation about your whereabouts forms in her mind.
Before she can let the idea settle any further, the sound of the elevator doors opening breaks her concentration. Tony’s voice echoes into the room before he even fully steps out.
“Ugh, the cat’s still here? It’s been over a week. At this point, I’m gonna have to start charging her rent.” 
Widow lifts her head from her bowl, her yellow eyes narrowing at Tony. A string of irritated meows escapes her, sounding oddly accusatory.
Tony gasps in offense. “Is she mocking me?” 
Natasha doesn’t bother to respond to his complaints, having grown used to their ongoing squabbles over the past week. 
Instead, she turns her tablet toward him, her mind still focused on the new lead forming in her head. 
“Tony, you sent Peter to check out the docks recently, right?” 
Tony pauses his glaring contest with Widow, glancing at the tablet before leaning back against the couch with a nod. 
“Yeah, the kid didn’t see any weapons being moved in. Why, you got something?”
“Just a hunch,” Natasha replies, standing up with a quick stretch. “I need to check something out, but I need you to watch Widow for me.”
Tony’s face twists in horror as he immediately shakes his head, raising his hands in protest.
“Oh, no. Absolutely not. You take her with you. I am not cat-sitting.”
Sighing, Natasha bends to scoop Widow up from the floor, cradling the small feline against her chest. She runs her fingers under Widow’s chin, giving her a soft scratch. 
“I can’t take her. It could be dangerous.”
Tony eyes the cat warily, keeping his distance.
“Where’s Wanda? She loves this furball.”  
“She’s on a mission,” Natasha answers, stepping closer and holding Widow out toward him. “Like everyone else.” 
Tony crosses his arms and tucks his hands under his sides, stubbornly refusing to take the cat. 
“Well, I’m busy too.” 
Natasha raises an eyebrow, her expression unimpressed. 
“It’s only going to be an hour or two. Besides, you owe me, Stark. Remember Pepper’s birthday?” 
Tony frowns in silence for a moment before groaning loudly in reluctant acceptance. 
“Ugh, fine! But only because I don’t need her bringing that up again. Give me the cat.”
Widow, sensing the impending hand-off, squirms in Natasha’s arms, her tiny paws scrambling as she tries to burrow against Natasha’s body in protest.
Her soft, pitiful cries grow louder, almost as if she were begging Natasha not to leave her with Tony.
“No, no, no,” Natasha murmurs soothingly, running her fingers along Widow’s back. “It’s only for a little while, I promise.”
But Widow wasn’t having it. 
She clings to Natasha, her tiny claws gripping her shirt, her cries growing more desperate.
Natasha sighs, trying to pry the cat away gently, but Widow is surprisingly strong for her size.
“See?” Tony says, pointing an accusing finger at her. “Even she doesn’t want this. You can’t force this on me!” 
Natasha gives him an unimpressed look, clearly unmoved by his dramatic refusal. 
“She’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”
With one final nuzzle to calm the cat, Natasha manages to transfer Widow into Tony’s reluctant arms. 
The moment the cat lands in his grasp, she goes completely still, her narrowed eyes locking onto Tony with an expression that could only be described as disdainful.
“I’ll be back soon,” Natasha promises, giving Widow one last pat on the head before grabbing her jacket and making her way to the door. 
Tony sighs dramatically, holding the cat awkwardly at arm’s length. 
“You better be. And if she scratches any more of my stuff, we’re gonna have a serious problem.” 
Natasha chuckles softly but doesn’t look back. Her mind is already back on the case, the unease gnawing at her as she steps into the elevator. 
Something about the break-ins, your disappearance, and the misleading intel she had been chasing feels connected in ways she couldn’t yet explain. 
It was too perfect, too coordinated. And Natasha knows better than to believe in coincidences.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Natasha pulls up near the docks, parking her car a few blocks away to avoid drawing any attention.
The dimly lit warehouses loomed large in the night, and her eyes scanned the scene for any movement or signs of activity. 
Despite the late hour, there seems to be an unusual number of people milling around—far too many for a regular night shift. The men guarding the entrance didn't look like typical dock workers either; they were too alert, too stiff.
Looks like her instincts were right about something suspicious happening here. 
As she tries to figure out her approach to investigate, a slight movement from the passenger seat catches her eye.
The half-opened duffel bag in front of her shifts ever so slightly. 
Natasha blinks, her brow furrowing as she stares at the bag, almost unwilling to believe what she knew was coming. 
With a sigh, she reaches over and unzips the bag entirely. 
Sure enough, Widow’s small head pops out from where she had been hiding, her yellow eyes blinking up at Natasha with a soft, innocent meow. 
“At this point, I shouldn’t even be surprised anymore,” Natasha mutters, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She leans over and gives the cat a quick scratch behind the ears. 
“After all, you’re a professional, aren’t you? Just like her.”
Widow purrs, seemingly proud of the comparison, before hopping onto the passenger armrest. 
Before Natasha can react, the cat swats at the buttons on the door, and the distinct click of the car door unlocking fills the air. 
Natasha immediately presses the lock button again, shaking her head in exasperation and amusement. 
“She trained you a little too well, you know that?” 
The cat blinks at her, meowing insistently as she paws at the window, eager to assist. 
Natasha knows there is no point in leaving her in the car—not when Widow is clearly more than capable of finding her way out. 
With a sigh, Natasha relents. 
“Alright, what’s the plan?” 
Moments later, Natasha crouches in the shadows near the entrance to the docks, watching as the guards patrol the area. 
Widow had slipped away almost as soon as they arrived, disappearing into the darkness with the kind of stealth that only a cat could manage. 
Natasha stayed low, blending into the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to make her move. 
Suddenly, one of the guards at the gate straightens, his eyes darting around the area. 
“Hey, did you hear that?” 
“Hear what?” his partner asks lazily, barely glancing up from his phone.
“I don’t know,”  the first guard replies, his frown deepening. “But it sounded like it came from over there.”
“Well, go check it out, genius,” his partner mutters, shoving him in the direction of the noise. 
The first guard grumbles but complies, his flashlight cutting through the dark as he wanders toward the distraction—away from Natasha’s position.
A faint smile tugs at her lips.
Looks like Widow is already making her move.
With the first guard distracted and the second engrossed in his phone, Natasha moves quickly, slipping past the gate and deeper into the docks. 
She hugs the walls, her movements swift and silent, her senses on high alert. 
The deeper she went, the more obvious it became that something was off. 
The workers moving around the docks weren’t just loading and unloading—they were guarding something. 
As she rounds a corner, Natasha freezes. 
Ahead of her, two men stand by an open warehouse door, crates and boxes stacked high inside. She crouches behind a stack of barrels, her eyes narrowing as she listens. 
“Are we sure we should be moving all of this tonight?” one of them asks, his voice low. “What if the cops show up? It’ll look suspicious.”  
“Relax,” the other voice answers. “The boss has that girl keeping the police distracted with those break-ins. They’re so focused on protecting the rich neighborhoods that they won’t even think to check the docks. We’ll move the weapons through here without a hitch.”
Natasha’s blood runs cold as the realization hits her—these were the people using you. 
Her fists clenched in anger. She had to put a stop to this, but just as she prepared to move, a sharp, startled yowl pierced the night. 
Her heart leaps into her throat as her eyes snap toward the sound.
Widow’s small figure was caught in the grip of one of the guards, dangling helplessly as he held her by the scruff. 
“Hey, isn’t this that girl’s cat?” the man remarks, shining his flashlight directly at Widow’s face.
Widow hisses in defiance, her fur standing on end as she swipes at the man’s hand. The man yelps in pain as her claws scratch deep.
“Damn cat!” the man snarls, his temper flaring. With a vicious motion, he flings her violently to the side.
Widow hits the warehouse wall with a sickening thud, her small body letting out a sharp, pained cry as she crumples to the ground.
In a flash, Natasha is on her feet, closing the distance between herself and the guard, her vision blurred with rage.  
Without hesitation, she delivers a brutal kick to his ribs, sending him crashing against the warehouse wall. He slumped to the ground, unconscious before he could react. 
The other guard barely had time to register what was happening before Natasha was on him. A swift punch to his jaw dazes him, and a well-placed elbow to the side of his head knocks him out cold.
Breathing heavily, Natasha turns to where Widow had been thrown. The small cat was now on her feet, limping toward her, clearly hurt but still alert.  
Natasha curses under her breath in regret as she rushes to Widow’s side. She scoops the cat up carefully into her arms, cradling her close.
Widow meows weakly, pressing herself against Natasha’s chest, her small frame trembling slightly. 
Natasha runs her hand gently over Widow’s fur, her touch careful and deliberate as she searches for any signs of injury.
Her fingers still when they brush over a small, raised patch of fur—a spot she hadn’t noticed before. 
It didn’t seem like a wound from the impact when Widow had been thrown against the warehouse wall. It felt old, as though it had been there for some time. 
Shaking off her confusion for now, Natasha lets out a small sigh of relief. 
Widow’s injuries seem mostly minor—a few bruises and a limp, but nothing too serious. 
The cat meows softly, leaning into Natasha’s comforting touch to reassure her that she is okay.
Glancing over her shoulder at the crates stacked inside the warehouse, Natasha knows she can’t afford to stay. More guards could be closing in, and with Widow hurt, she couldn’t risk a full confrontation. 
Making a quick decision, she pulls out a few small, hidden trackers from her gear and discreetly attaches them to several of the boxes. 
Now, at least, she’d be able to track the weapons’ movement. 
With Widow nestled securely in her arms, Natasha slips through the shadows, her movements fluid and silent as she navigates between the towering crates and through narrow alleyways. 
Every sense was on high alert, her focus sharp, her only goal to get them both out safely.
“Hang on, girl. I’ve got you,” she whispers, her voice low and reassuring as she cradles the cat close to her chest. 
Throughout the entire ride back to the Compound, Natasha keeps Widow pressed protectively against her body, her arms wrapped around the small creature as though shielding her from the world. 
The lab doors slide open as Natasha rushes inside, her eyes scanning the room for Tony. She finds him in the middle of a frantic search, tossing tools and devices around, clearly looking for something. 
“Stark!” Natasha calls, her voice sharp with urgency. 
Tony jumps at her voice, spinning around with wide eyes, hands raised defensively. 
“I can explain!” he says quickly. “I put the furball down for one second, and the next thing I know, she’s...” His eyes fall to the cat cradled in Natasha’s arms, and he sags in relief. “...with you.” 
Natasha shoots him an unimpressed glare as she moves toward one of the examination tables. She gently sets Widow down on the surface, stroking the cat’s fur as she tries to comfort her. 
“FRIDAY, can you scan her for any injuries? We ran into some trouble,” Natasha requests. 
“Certainly, Miss Romanoff,” the A.I. responds immediately, and the sensors on the examination table light up, preparing for the scan.
Widow perks up, her curiosity piqued by the glowing lights beneath her paws. She paws at the surface, her small meows filling the lab. 
“I’d just like to point out, for the record, that I did warn you about leaving her with me,” Tony grumbles, grabbing a tablet from the nearby counter to check the scan results. 
“Just tell me if she’s okay,” Natasha deadpans, crossing her arms. 
Tony scrolls through the vitals displayed on the tablet, muttering as he does so. 
“Calm down, Romanoff. I’m sure your girlfriend’s cat is just–” 
Tony’s words abruptly cut off, and Natasha’s attention snaps from Widow to him. 
His face had gone still, his usual smug expression replaced with a deep frown. He stares at the tablet as if seeing something he couldn’t quite believe.
Before Natasha can ask what is wrong, Tony reaches behind him, grabbing a device off one of the nearby tables.
Without warning, he tosses it toward Widow, and within seconds, a force field dome activates around the cat, encasing her in a barrier.
Widow yelps in surprise, jumping slightly before pawing frantically at the shimmering barrier.
Her yellow eyes go wide, and she turns to Natasha, letting out a distressed cry. 
“What the hell, Tony?” Natasha barks, stepping forward to deactivate the force field. 
Tony’s hand shoots out, stopping her. 
“Don’t, Nat,” he says, his voice low and serious. “She’s dangerous.” 
Natasha’s brow furrows in confusion. “What? No, she’s harmless.”
He shows her the screen and reveals grimly,
“There’s a bomb inside of her.”
Natasha freezes, her frown deepening as Tony’s words sink in.
Her eyes shift to Widow, who is now meowing pitifully, her paw pressing against the invisible force field as she looks at Natasha with wide, confused eyes.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Natasha lies on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, her mind processing the recent discovery. 
Sleep was out of the question—not for the usual reasons this time, but because her thoughts wouldn’t stop racing.
Everything was slowly falling into place, but the weight of it pressed heavily on her chest. 
Earlier, Tony had confirmed it. Hidden beneath Widow’s fur was a small, foreign device—a bomb. Surgically implanted and designed to detonate remotely, it was rigged to explode if tampered with. 
“So that’s what they’ve been using to control you,” Natasha whispers to herself, her fists clenching at her sides as the gravity of the situation settles in. 
It wasn’t just about you—it was about keeping Widow alive. You had been trying to protect her this whole time. 
Her gaze shifts to the corner of her room where Widow’s bed lay empty, the small plush toy resting on top of it.
Widow usually cries out for that toy before she goes to sleep, but now she is locked away in Tony’s lab, trapped inside the force field as a precaution. 
Natasha’s heart ached at the thought of the frightened cat, isolated and alone, with no understanding of the threat she carried.
Unable to bear the thought any longer, Natasha stands, grabs the plush toy, and makes her way to the lab. 
As the doors slide open, she spots Widow curled up beneath the shimmering barrier, her small body trembling, ears flattened against her head.
A soft whine echoes through the room, and Natasha’s heart breaks a little more.
Steeling herself, Natasha approaches the table and deactivates the force field. 
Widow lifts her head slowly, blinking as she adjusts to her newfound freedom. Her wide, yellow eyes search the room before they find Natasha.
With a small, reassuring smile, Natasha holds out the plush toy. 
“Come on,” she coaxes softly, her voice filled with an apologetic tenderness. “I’m not afraid of you.” 
Widow tilts her head, hesitating for a moment before letting out a tiny meow. She moves toward Natasha, nuzzling her hand in forgiveness. 
Natasha feels a rush of warmth, the tension in her chest easing slightly as the cat accepts her apology.
A little while later, Natasha finds herself on the rooftop of the Compound, the cool night air soothing her restless thoughts. 
Widow was curled comfortably in her lap, contentedly gnawing on her plush toy under the vast, open night sky. 
Natasha’s fingers idly stroke through the cat’s fur, her thoughts wandering to what comes next. 
The situation was far more serious than she’d imagined, and it was clear the only way to move forward was to find you.
Her thoughts drift to you as they always do, wondering what you were going through—how much you must be shouldering by yourself.
Suddenly, Widow pauses her playing and stands, her front paws rising to rest on Natasha’s shoulder.
Natasha turns her head slightly to the side to look at the cat. She is about to ask what she is up to when your voice breaks the silence from the other side.
“Staying up late, as usual, I see.”   
Natasha jumps, her body tensing as she whips her head around, heart pounding in her chest. 
You were standing dangerously close—too close—and the sight of your familiar smirk made her pulse quicken even more.
The warmth between you seemed to radiate in the cool night air. 
Widow wastes no time, immediately hopping over Natasha’s shoulder and into your waiting arms.
You chuckle softly, cradling the cat against your chest, fingers brushing through her fur. 
“Hello to you too,” you murmur warmly as Widow nuzzles into you.
For a moment, Natasha allows herself to soften at the sight. There was something undeniably tender in the way you held Widow, in the gentle smile that curved your lips. 
But that moment of softness quickly dissolves as her eyes land on the bandage above your left brow.
Her body tenses again as she stands slowly, brushing herself off while discreetly scanning you for other possible injuries.
"Thanks again for taking care of her," you say, breaking the silence, your gaze meeting hers. Widow is now nestled comfortably in your arms, completely at ease. “I mean it—I owe you. Anything you need, just say the word.”
Natasha takes a step forward, her hand instinctively reaching up to your face. Her fingertips brush delicately near the bandage on your brow, the touch lingering just a second too long as concern flickers in her eyes.
"How about an explanation for this?"
For a moment, you freeze under her touch, your breath catching as her fingers hovered near your skin.
The air around you feels charged, and the space between you seems to narrow further even though neither of you has moved.  
Your hand rises slowly, fingers wrapping gently around her wrist as you guide her hand back down to her side.
The contact is soft but electric, sending a jolt through Natasha as the warmth of your skin ignites something inside her.
"You should see the other guy," you say lightly, trying to brush off her concern with a joke.
But the humor doesn’t quite reach your eyes as your smile fades, replaced by something more cautious, more guarded.
“I did,” Natasha responds seriously, her tone dropping as she locks eyes with you. She nodded toward Widow. "That’s what led me to find out about the bomb inside our little friend here."
Her gaze hardens, pinning you with an intensity that makes the tension between you spike.
“And I’m guessing the USB I left with that night…that was your doing too.”
Your expression falters, lips pressing into a thin, resigned line at her deduction. Eventually, you give her a slight nod. 
“You’re as impressive as people say,” you compliment before tilting your head at her with a wry smile. “I guess I can’t blame the cat this time.”
Natasha’s gaze flicks back and forth between your eyes, searching, her frustration building with each passing second. 
“You’ve already helped them steal the weapons by drawing attention away with those break-ins,” she says, her voice filled with a quiet, simmering anger. “So what now? Was that enough for them to leave you two alone?” 
You look away, guilt flickering across your features before your gaze drops to Widow. 
“It’s just one more job,” you whisper, almost to yourself. “One more, and then I’m done.”
Natasha’s eyes narrow, frustration building in her chest. 
"How many times have you told yourself that?" she exclaims, her voice cutting through the night with a razor-sharp edge. "How many times have you convinced yourself it’s just one more?"  
You give her a glare at her words.
“Oh, please, save the lecture,” you snap, your voice rough, your heart pounding with a mix of emotion. “Not everyone gets the luxury of forgetting their past and becoming a hero. Some of us don’t get a second chance.”
Silence settles between you as the tension grows unbearable, the air heavy with unresolved emotions.
Finally, Natasha reaches out, her fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your jacket, pulling you closer.
Her eyes bore into yours, her proximity sending a shiver down your spine as she steps closer, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper.
“You think I erased my past?” she asks, her breath fanning across your cheek. “You think I just forgot everything I’ve done? I live with that every day. But I chose to be better.” 
She holds your gaze, hoping to convey the truth of her next words. 
“You can too,” she whispers. 
For a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you, the heat between you palpable. Your hand hovers near her arm conflicted between pushing her away or pulling her closer.
Natasha’s eyes flicker with something deeper, a plea hidden behind her frustration as she waits for your response.
After a moment of silence, you finally give her a wry smile, touching her arm gently. 
“That’s what makes you so amazing, Miss Black Widow,” you answer, your breath shallow as her overwhelming presence consumes your thoughts. It takes all your concentration to push through with your next words as you drop your hand from her. 
“But I don’t have time for hope. This is about survival.” 
Natasha’s eyes soften, and she takes another step closer.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” she whispers, her lips inches from yours, sending a shiver down your spine. 
Your gaze locks with hers, the charged tension hanging thickly in the air, unyielding.
You want to believe her, to let her in—but fear holds you back. You break the eye contact, looking away as the weight of your situation presses down on you.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, the words heavy with unspoken regret. 
Natasha’s hand slowly drops from your jacket, and she takes a step back, her heart aching at the refusal in your words.  
In your arms, Widow let out a soft, sympathetic meow, as if sensing the pain in both of you. She turns her head toward Natasha, her wide eyes pleading as if asking her to do something.
The sight of the feline gives her an idea.
“If you don’t want me to help you, at least let me help her,” Natasha says, nodding toward Widow. Her voice is softer now, almost a plea. 
You look down at Widow, considering her words, your teeth worrying your lower lip as you think it over.
Natasha’s eyes linger at the action for just a moment, but she quickly pulls her gaze back up when she remembers the boundary you’ve placed on your relationship.
“Okay,” you finally relent, holding your hand out to her. “For Widow. That’s it.” 
Natasha’s hand meets yours, the warmth spreading between your palms as your fingers intertwine, the tension still simmering beneath the surface.
“For Widow,” she whispers, her eyes locked on yours with an unspoken promise.
~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~
Part 4
a/n: thanks for reading! Your responses on this series are so nice. I'm glad to see that you are all enjoying it.
If you asked to be tagged and I missed it, please let me know again.
Taglist : @cd-4848, @carifletchersgirl
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ennabear · 2 months ago
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ENNABEARRR! DROP ANOTHER MEAN!ABBY DRABBLE AND MY LIFE IS YOURS! (pretty please i luv your writing 🤍)
ʕง•ᴥ•ʔง HEHEHEHE HAIII SWEET NONNIE!!!!! cmere lemme smooch you real sloppy MMWWWAAAHHH. love love love u, here’s mean!abby when you’re on your period…
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it would start with her in the middle of her workout at the gym. she feels her phone buzz in her pocket so she pulls it out to glance at it, seeing a message notification from you but deciding she’s too busy read it. so she shoves it back into her pocket and ignores it.
you stare at your phone screen frustratedly, hormones running wild, the dull cramps in your stomach only adding to your dismay. every text you sent was met with a small gray delivered under it. why the hell is she ignoring you?
after a few minutes of groaning into your pillow and squeezing your teddy bear in agony, you decide to fuck it all and call her, something that was reserved only for the most extreme emergencies. as expected, she picks up on the fourth ring with an annoyed “is it an emergency?”
“YES, abby!! why haven’t you answered my texts?” you yell. your hips feel like they’re being viciously yanked apart, tits so sore you yelp at the feeling of your t-shirt brushing against them, and you’re almost certain there’s a giant bloodstain under you.
“what’s wrong?” she asks, panicking and throwing all of her gym equipment into her bag. “do you need me to come home?” and she doesn’t wait for a response to this, she’s already throwing her gym bag into her car and speeding off.
“everything hurts.” you moan, voice cracking as tears start to spill involuntarily from your eyes. “my back and my stomach and my hips and my tits and—” you get cut off by your own sobbing, feeling completely paralyzed as you lay alone and cold. abby is a fucking savior right now, assuring you she’s on her way and she’ll do anything in her power to make sure you’re comfortable once she gets home.
it takes a surprisingly short time for her to get back to your apartment, being greeted by two hungry kittens meowing up at her with their huge eyes. she almost steps right on them as they trail right in front of her feet, perking their tails up and nuzzling against her legs.
finally, she stumbles into the bedroom, finding you curled up under a few different blankets with your head stuffed in her pillow. “baby?” she asks, her voice soothing you momentarily but unfortunately not enough to stop the assault on your emotions right now.
you attempt to turn over and face her, but a sharp pain causes you squirm and roll back into your comfortable nest. two strong arms wrap themselves around you, scooping you up and hauling you to the bathroom. “the sheets, abby.” you moan. she ignores this, peeling off your clothes while she waits for the shower to heat up.
“i’ll be right back,” she whispers. “holler if you need anything.” and you’re left alone to shower by yourself, the hot, steaming water relaxing your muscles and providing the sweetest relief. abby gathers she sheets, scrubbing the small stain with cold water and throwing them into the wash with a douse of stain remover.
abby isn’t a great chef, but she’ll do anything for her baby while she’s in pain. after dumping a few scoops of kibble into each of the girls’ bowls, she grabs a box of pancake mix and gets to work. it takes a few tries for her to make one that’s actually presentable, hands shaking as she tries to maneuver the half cooked batter onto the spatula, but she eventually gets the hang of it. she slides the ugly, torn up pancakes onto her own plate, saving the pretty ones for you, of course.
you tug on one of abby’s torn up t-shirts and a pair of soft sweatpants, tiptoeing out of the bedroom and slumping down on the couch. abby approaches you with a plate full of golden pancakes drowning in syrup, and you notice for the first time how hungry you are. “here, you can pop some pills after you eat.”
“i didn’t know you were a chef.” you giggle, placing a weak kiss on her cheek as a thank you. she rolls her eyes, “yeah, yeah. don’t flatter me.” the two of you eat in almost silence. abby turned on some stupid docuseries she’s been watching. in your opinion, it’s boring as hell, but you’ll watch it as long as she’s happy.
both of the cats curl up on her lap once you’re done. of course she’s their favorite, you curse mentally. abby pulls you closer, wrapping a warm blanket around you and drooping her head on top of yours. “sorry i wasn’t there this morning.” she whispers. “you should’ve called me sooner, though.”
you laugh drowsily, ready to get some quality sleep now that you’re finally comfortable. “you’re a dick sometimes, i love you.”
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thebearer · 5 months ago
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please please please need a part two of the fight blurb 😭 what happens next 😭😭😭
should i make it into a full fic omg?? maybe?? lol
but on the real, i think that he would have to take a leave from the restaurant, which truthfully, everyone needed. this is just what broke him. the one time he actually tries to deal with his shit and not just blow up, get embarrassed, try to make it up, and repeat the cycle with no real change. i mean, you took his babies? anchovy and teddy. you're not returning his calls. richie, fak, and sweeps are alternating wellness check watches because they're terrified he's going to hurt himself, especially after the way he spiraled when he found your wedding ring.
he knows where you're at. he managed to become technologically savvy all of a sudden and figured out how to see your location, that you shared with him when you first started dating. fak wouldn't let him take his car. richie had put him on a full blown "psych ward type shit" lockdown until he "got his shit together, cousin".
"richie said-"
"-richie's a fuckin' moron, give me my fucking keys, fak!"
"carmen," fak frowns. "i-i can't."
so carmen walked. he walked to sugar and pete's house. nearly an hour walk through chicago. smoking so much he felt sick.
pete answered the door, face falling as soon as he saw carmen.
"carm, h-hey, man-"
"-where is she?" carmen wasn't interested on any sort of small talk, tunnel visioned to get to you.
"uh, i-i don't-"
"-pete, i really don't want you to fuck with me right now, alright." carmen took a deep breath, throat burning with tears. "i need to see- i-i need to see her pete." he couldn't bring himself to even say your name.
a tiny meow came from behind pete, anchovy skippering towards carmen with bright eyes, tail raised. it made carmen's jaw clench, tears blurring his vision. he knew you had to be close by. looking at the time, you were probably feeding teddy, maybe putting her down for a nap. he should have been more considerate, came later in the day, carmen thought.
pete looked at the cat, down the hall, then back at carmen. "carm..." pete hesitated, gripping the door, letting it shut gently, shielding something behind him. "you know i can't."
"what the fuck? pete that's- just let me in." anger surged through carmen's chest, trying to swallow it down. all he'd been was angry. angry and sick and distraught, a never ending cycle for weeks, just amplified by your leaving.
"you want to get her back? quit actin' like a goddam baby." richie sneered one night, just days ago, when carmen was especially awful and mean. "quit actin' like this isn't your fuckin' fault. like you didn't do this to yourself. take some fuckin' accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin' shit together. and maybe-maybe you'll get your family back."
carmen turned, running a hand over his face, trying to calm himself. keep himself from crying, from screaming, from pushing pete down and running back there so he could see you himself- throw himself at your feet and beg for forgiveness.
"pete, please? please?" carmen's voice wobbled, breaking gently. "please l-let me talk to her. just let me- let me tell her i'm sorry. don't-"
"-carmen?" sugar's voice came from behind pete. her face dropped, different than pete's, her's was angry. "what the fuck are you doing here?"
"why do you think i'm here, natalie? huh?-"
"-oh, you've got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here." natalie sneered, pulling the door open and stepping out. "pete, go inside."
"nat-"
"-i got it." natalie hissed, eyes narrowing at carmen. she waited until pete left, shaking her head at him. "you should be fucking ashamed-"
"-i am-"
"-mortified." sugar continued. "do you know what i came home to the other night? i came home to pete taking care of your baby because your wife came here sobbing- sobbing, because you screamed at her? what the fuck is wrong with you? huh?"
"i don't know." carmen's voice was tight, fighting a tremble. "i-i don't fuckin' know. i didn't- i-i didn't mean-" a tear fell, the final crack in his demeanor. carmen wasn't sure how he had tears left, how he could sob anymore. yet here he was, on his sister's porch, tears flowing again.
sugar didn't comfort him, didn't move, just watched him through glaring eyes. "please let me s-see her. let me se-ee teddy, sugar, don't-don't keep my kid from me-"
"-i'm not keeping your kid from you." sugar snapped. "i didn't take teddy away. you know who did? you. you did carmen."
carmen flinched, he knew it was true but it still stung. "i know you don't remember dad very well, but you're acting just like him." sugar sneered.
"and before you try and come up with an excuse-"
"-i-i'm not-"
"-i want you to know, that every day. every single fucking day, there's days i want to drink myself to sleep. that mj or maggie make me want to pull my hair out and scream, or pete does something that infuriates me, but you know what i don't do?" sugar stepped towards carmen, arms still crosses. "i don't yell at them, i don't drink myself incoherent, i don't fucking act like mom or dad because i know how that felt." sugar jabbed a finger in her chest, eyes holding carmen's gaze intensely.
"i know how that fucked me up, i know how it fucked them up, how it fucked you and mikey up too- how it fucked everything in our fucking life up!" natalie laughed humorlessly. "and the last thing, the very last thing i would want, is to do that to pete, to my kids, to anyone."
carmen felt sick and yet eerily calm all at once. his chest was tight, he was sure he couldn't breathe, but he couldn't stop listening. a damning realization- a shameful one.
"you need to make up your mind, right here, right now, before you see anyone else." natalie stepped back towards the door. "you need to decide if you're going to continue to be a selfish piece of shit, or if you're going to change. and i can tell you, change is uncomfortable- it's not easy. you have to fight for it every single day. but i would rather do that than not have my family."
she looked down at carmen, twisting the knob. "you decide that, then maybe- maybe you can see them." carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, not moving from his place on the porch, head in his hands.
fak showed up nearly an hour later, wide eyed and rambling about "how the fuck did you just leave? i was playing ball buster and-and then you're gone-"
carmen ignores him, sliding into the car slowly. "carmen?"
"you uh," carmen's voice is hoarse, staring straight ahead. "you said that, uh, that richie's got.... got someone for me to talk to?"
fak blinks, nodding slowly. "the therapist? yeah-"
"-take me there." carmen looks over at sugar's house. he isn't sure if it's his imagination or not, but for a moment he swears he can see you, peeking through the blinds.
"a-are you ok?" fak is worried, a little rattled at the sudden change. especially since carmen had been so adamant about not seeing "your stupid fuckin' therapist, richie, clearly she's no fuckin' good because look at you! you're still fucked up!" carmen's enraged words from days ago.
"no," carmen admits, throat swelling with a growing lump. "but, uh, i-i wanna be." he admits quietly, looking over at fak. "i gotta get my shit together, fak. i-i gotta be better for them."
fak doesn't deny it, doesn't console him. just goes quiet with a nod, driving away. carmen watches sugar's house disappear in the rearview, his heart aching, breaking, but he knows natalie is right. he knows he'll be back once he's better, that he has to be better. for teddy. for you. for your family.
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queenxxxsupreme · 3 months ago
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Ghost (Logan Howlett x reader)
A/N: this is my first attempt at a fic in a while, so please just bear with me. This takes place after the events of Deadpool and Wolverine. I feel like I am not too great at writing Wade’s character and I think I’m still learning how to write Logan so just please don’t hate me if anything seems out of character. I hope you enjoy :)
Warnings: cursing, mentions of thoughts of suicide, nothing else out of the ordinary for a Deadpool and Wolverine fic
Word Count: 3.1k
Summary: What happens when the man who broke your heart shows up on your doorstep with a weird man claiming to be from another universe?
As you were tying your robe into place, the sound of glass shattering in the other room caught your attention.
“Fuck.” You muttered before hastily making your way down the hallway. “Nugs, what the hell are you doing in here?”
The overweight orange cat meowed loudly from where he sat on the floor. Directly beside him was a pile of dirt and the remnants of your favorite flower pot.
“Nugget! Dude, we have talked a million times about you trying to get up on that shelf.” You shooed the cat away from the mess, then went to retrieve a broom. “You are far too big to be trying to climb up there. You could get hurt.”
He meowed again and rubbed against your calf, offering his own version of an apology.
You swept the dirt and plant material into the dustpan. As you were making your way towards the trash can, a firm knock came at the front door.
Nugget started meowing loudly. It was almost like he was trying to imitate a siren and warn you that there was someone at the door.
Cautiously, you moved towards the door. You weren’t expecting anyone, sure, but you also knew absolutely no one in the city, so why would someone be knocking on your door at 11:30 on a Wednesday night?
You pulled the door open to see an unknown man. He wore a trucker hat with the words ‘this is actually my first rodeo’ stitched on to it. He was wearing a gray hoodie and jeans. The skin covering his face was scarred badly.
“Can I help you?” You furrowed your eyebrows.
“Oh my FUCK! You didn’t tell me we were coming to see Y/N!” The man turned around to reveal Logan Howlett.
Your heart jumped to your throat at the sight of him, and the very thought of breathing went right out the window.
He stood with his arms crossed. The dark red flannel he wore stretched over his muscles. It was like the shirt was two sizes too small for him. The jeans he wore were dark and fit him snug. His hair wasn’t as poofy as you remembered it being, but it was still styled and spiked just like he had always done.
As you took in the sight of the Wolverine, you realized he didn’t look as unkempt as you so vividly recalled him being the last time that you saw him.
“Uh, hi, Y/N.”
Hearing him say your name almost made you vomit right then and there. It had been years since you last heard him say your name.
You snapped out of your trance, the tension and nerves in your stomach twisting into anger.
“What the fuck do you want, Logan?”
”I know it’s a long shot, but we need somewhere to stay for the night.”
You couldn’t believe what he was saying. What made him think he had the right to ask you for anything?
You started to close the door but the man you didn’t know stopped you, placing his hand on the door.
“Hold on just a second, Y/N! We have some wild— and I mean wild —stories to tell you.”
”I don’t know you, fuck nuts.” You snapped. Your irises disappeared as the entire eye turned black. “Now if you two don’t get the hell away from my apartment—,”
”I know you don’t owe me anything, Y/N.” Logan paused, taking a second to admire how stunning you looked. You stood there in nothing but a soft pink robe with little cherries all over it and your hair was wet. You even smelled the same. “We’re doing some…. work nearby and we need somewhere to stay.”
”Go fuck yourself, how about that?” You tried to close the door but this time Logan stopped you. His hand was firm and steady as he held the door open.
“I-I just want to talk to you.”
You held his gaze, your eyes returning to their normal Y/E/C color.
Perhaps if he hadn’t looked so different from the last time you saw him, you’d slam the door in his face. But he didn’t look broken, his eyes weren’t empty. The Logan standing before you was more like the one you fell in love with years ago, rather than the one who had broken your heart.
“When was the last time you had a drink?”
Logan let out a heavy breath and almost rolled his eyes.
“Look, I’m not gonna lie to you. It was, like, forty-five minutes ago. But it was just one drink.”
”He’s seriously been cutting back on the alcohol.” The stranger nodded his head. “But if you ask me, I’d rather him be loaded with that shit. Makes him more tolerable.”
Logan elbowed him harshly in the ribs.
”It’s a good thing I didn’t ask you then isn’t it, buddy?” I raised my brows at the stranger.
”Yikes, you are just like I remember you being. All sweet and mean and shit.”
“Please, Y/N.” Logan pulled your attention back to him.
With a sigh of defeat, you stepped back and held the door for the two men.
“Yes! Thank you, Y/N.” The stranger happily entered your home. “You know, I’ve always wanted to see what your place was like. The you from my world banned me from her place a long time ago. We wear the same size shoes, you know. And apparently, she doesn’t like to share. Said I stretched out her Burkins. And her nighties.”
You furrowed your eyebrows as you listened to the man ramble.
“Who in the fuck are you?”
”Wade Wilson.” The man turned around to face you, holding his hand out. “You might know me as Deadpool.”
”No, actually. I don’t.” You crossed your arms over your chest, ignoring his outstretched hand. “Where the hell did you get this guy, Logan?”
”Uh, it’s a long story.”
”I can explain it all, momma. Let’s have a seat.” Wade gestured to your kitchen table and then pulled a chair out.
***
You stepped out onto your balcony, pulling a carton of cigarettes from the pocket in your jacket. Your eyes flickered out over the city.
Never in a million years did you think that Logan Howlett would show up at your apartment looking like a kicked dog. Never in a million years did you think he’d be able to dig himself out of the hole he tried to bury himself in ages ago. And never in a million years did you think he would have the guts to stand in front of you asking to stay for just the night.
He needed somewhere to stay for the night, somewhere to rest in the midst of whatever the fuck he was doing. And with him came a strange man by the name of Wade Wilson.
The air was cool and a gentle breeze blew through your hair. The faint sound of car horns kept you from being too absorbed by your own thoughts.
Out of the corner of your eye, something moved. It was Wade.
You took a puff of the cigarette and then offered it to him.
“Oh, no thank you. I’m trying to limit my oral intake of carcinogens.”
You nodded, finding it best not to question him, and moved to sit down at the little table.
“Sometimes I think things couldn’t get any more crazy. The man who broke my heart and made me contemplate offing myself shows up at my front door out of the blue with a man claiming to be from another universe entirely. How am I supposed to react to that?”
Wade opened his mouth to answer your rhetorical question with something sassy, but he stopped himself. He could see that your eyes were glossy and your breath was shaky. Your hand trembled as you held the cigarette up to your lips.
He slipped into the seat next to you, racking his brain for something to say.
“Did you know that?” You asked him, your eyes finding his. “That when we broke up, when he…. When Logan decided that he was done…. I thought about killing myself.”
”No, I didn’t.” Wade spoke softly.
”We were together for years. Almost a lifetime. And he just…. He just couldn’t take it anymore. After what happened at the school.” You paused for a moment. “He couldn’t move on, but he couldn’t die either. Everything just turned him into someone I— someone I didn’t know. Don’t know.”
Wade watched you in silence. His chest began to feet tight, like it was hard for him to breathe. Seeing his best friend— or at least his best friend in his world —so torn up, so genuinely hurt, made Deadpool feel bad.
“In my world, you two were together until his dying breath.”
Your eyes snapped over to him, unsure that you had heard him right.
”What?”
”Wherever you were, he was not too far behind. You two were inseparable. Practically joined at the hip.”
You gazed at him for a few moments, giving yourself time to process his words. An ache began to stir in your gut, the same ache that you fought every single minute of every single day to suppress.
“He-He died? In your- In your world, I mean.”
”Yeah. Oh, yeah.” Wade rubbed his palms on the thighs of his jeans. “It was a real dark time for everyone. I never even got to team up with him before he croaked.”
You flicked the ashes from your cigarette into an ashtray. You leaned back in your seat, taking a deep breath.
“Your Logan, was he like this one?”
“Very similar. This one gives off slutty vibes. And he’s more drunk than the one from my world.”
“Was I happy with him, Wade?”
The Deadpool looked at you for a while. It was so weird to him that you were questioning your happiness with Logan Howlett. In his world, all you ever did was talk about Logan, about the memories you had with him.
“Happier than anyone I ever knew.” He nodded his head softly. “Look, I don’t know your situation with him in this world, but I think you should let him talk to you.”
You took a deep breath of the cigarette. The back of your throat burned.
“I can’t do that.”
“Sure you can. Just let him talk and explain himself. Make him feel like a dick for what he did. Then have the hottest makeup sex ever. Lovers-to-enemies-back-to-lovers sex is the best. Or so I’ve heard. I haven’t had a chance to experience that yet. Still on my bucket list.”
“He wouldn’t listen to me before. What makes you think he’ll listen to me now?”
“In our little journey we’ve had, I think I’ve been a good influence on him. I got him to smile, like, three times.”
You wanted to believe him, to trust the words he was telling you and the grin on his face. But you couldn’t stop thinking back to the Logan you remembered.
The cigarette between your fingertips disappeared beneath your touch, the gentle breeze taking away the particles of what was left of it.
You looked down at your hand, a shaky breath leaving through your lips.
“I don’t know, Wade.”
“That’s okay, momma. That’s okay.” He put his hands up. “It’s late and it’s been a wild and odd day for you. Why don’t you go get some sleep?”
“Yeah.” You nodded your head, standing from your chair.
He stood to his feet and looked down at you for a few moments. Then his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you in for a tight hug.
“Oh, uh–,”
“Shhh. Just let me hug you.” He whispered.
You were confused and shocked a little bit, but you hugged him back nonetheless.
“You smell just like the Y/N from my world.”
”Alright, okay.” You pulled away from him.
“I’m gonna go see if the princess is done with her shower yet.”
“Goodnight, Wade.”
“Good night, Y/N.”
You watched him walk back into your apartment and he disappeared around a corner.
You stood there for a few moments in silence. He was an interesting man. You almost enjoyed how much he constantly annoyed Logan.
“What a fucking day.” You rubbed your temple with one hand as you moved to return to your seat.
The cigarette pack was pulled from your jacket pocket and you took out a second cigarette. You put the stick between your lips, then reached back into your pocket to pull out a lighter.
Someone cleared their throat. You turned your head to see Logan standing in the doorway. He was in a pair of black sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hair was damp, a telltale sign that he had just gotten out of the shower.
You said nothing to him for a few heartbeats.
“Your friend is strange.” You nodded to the seat beside you that Wade had previously sat in. As Logan sat down, you held out the pack of cigarettes for him.
“Thanks.” He muttered, taking the box and pulling a cigarette out. You took it back from him and tossed it down onto the table. “He’s…. He’s not too bad.”
You lit your cigarette, then passed the lighter to Logan.
”When’d you take up smoking?” He placed the lighter down on the table next to the pack of cigarettes.
“Couple years ago.”
Logan wanted to look at you, to see how much you had changed in the years since he had last seen you. But he couldn’t bring himself to see the way that you looked at him. The sadness. The grief. The anger. So instead, the Wolverine focused his gaze on the skyline ahead.
The two of you sat there in silence for what felt like ages. Part of you didn’t know what to say, but the other part of you didn’t feel like it was your job to be the first to speak. That was on him.
You finished the cigarette with one final deep breath, then you put it out in the ashtray. The silence was getting to be too much, and you contemplated getting a third cigarette.
“Why did you come here, Logan?” You crossed your arms tightly over your chest.
”I wanted to…. I guess I just wanted to see you.” He blew a cloud of smoke from his lips. “The whole way here, I was trying to think of something to say, of what I could say to apologize to you, to show you that I am sorry. But nothing is good enough. Nothing sounds good enough.”
You turned your head to look at him, tilting your head to the side just a little.
“Start with an actual apology, Logan. Tell me that you are sorry. God knows you’ve never fucking done that before.”
Logan pressed his lips together tightly. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you, not yet at least.
“I am sorry, Y/N.”
You didn’t realize you were crying until the breeze blowing over the balcony made your damp cheeks feel cold. You turned away from him, hastily wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket.
“I am— I’m so, so fucking sorry for everything.” Logan’s voice was quiet.
“I thought about killing myself, Logan.”
It was his turn to look at you. His brows were drawn together and his lips parted.
“What?”
“I had no one left. The Professor was gone. Storm, Jean, there was no one fucking left for me to go to.” Your voice trembled as you said each name.
“I’m— Y/N, I’m sorry. I just…. There was a lot going on and I—,”
”You don’t think I didn’t fucking see what was going on, Logan?” You cut him off. The sadness and grief you felt quickly turned to anger. “I wanted to help you. I did everything I could to try to help you! And you just shot me down like I was a fucking nobody to you. Like we hadn’t spent the last fifteen plus years together!”
”I didn’t know how to process everything!” He raised his voice. All the emotions from all those years ago came flooding back to him. “You couldn’t fix everything, Y/N! You couldn’t just make things better with a snap of your fingers! I was an asshole. The biggest fucking asshole in the world. And I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
You stood to your feet. The thought of just sitting idly while you felt the white hot anger of a thousand suns under your skin made you want to vomit.
“Fuck you, Logan. Actually and genuinely fuck you. To think you have the right to find me and just waltz in and try to apologize for fucking being the absolute biggest dickhead in the entire—,”
Logan cut you off by wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you into what was perhaps the tightest hug you had ever had in your life. He buried his face against the side of your head, his hands pressing firmly into your back.
You were frozen in shock for the first few seconds. What was he doing? What was he trying to do?
”I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”
And just like that, you melted around him. Your arms wrapped around his torso. You buried your face in his chest.
Sure, you weren’t completely accepting of his apology. There were still plenty of conversations the two of you needed to have to work through your issues. But you would be lying if you said you hadn’t been dreaming about this moment for years.
You stood there for a long time, probably too long, holding him as tight as you possibly could. Your tears dampened his hoodie at the center of his chest and you were sure you could feel his own tears making your hair damp.
When he finally felt that he had held you for long enough, Logan pulled back. You looked up at him, taking in a shaky breath through your lips. His large hands came up to cup your face, thumbs brushing the tears away.
”We should go to sleep.”
”Yeah.” You nodded your head, stepping away from him so that you could gather yourself quickly. “Um, yeah. I think Wade said something about sharing the guest bed with you.”
”Oh, great.” Logan rolled his eyes.
“You can always sleep on the couch if you want.” You offered, moving around him and into your apartment.
You stopped in the kitchen to watch him. As he stepped into the dim lighting of your home, you found yourself staring at him once more. It felt like you were dreaming, like maybe this was some sort of coma dream. Maybe you fell down the stairs in your apartment and this wasn’t real.
”Good night, Y/N.”
“Good night, Logan.”
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whosname · 2 years ago
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Zura Zunday!
This is the kind of cutsie thing cat Zura (heheh) would say that would drive cat Gintoki nuts.
Cat Zura (heheheh) was soooo very difficult to get right, I can draw cat Gintoki easily, cat Zura (heheh) is bloody difficult.
Have the sketch, I spent so much eraser trying to get him right
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prisonhannibal · 4 months ago
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things I forgot and things people mentioned in the tags of the first poll which you can find here
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 months ago
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Bucky finds a kitten
Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary: Bucky finds a kitten on his way home.
Warnings: none except Fluff and cuteness, language, pet names
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF ARE NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found these on Pinterest.
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Bucky was walking home when his enhanced hearing picked a a noise coming from the alley he was walking past. It sounded like something moving. He stopped in his tracks and looked down the alley. He cautiously walked in the alley, ready to fight anything that jumped out at him. He didn’t see anything or anyone until he looked down and seen a white kitten shaking next to a box. He crouched down in front of her.
“Hi, little one.” Bucky softly coos.
The kitten backed away. Bucky’s heart broke for the kitten.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He slowly held his right hand out towards her. “You can trust me.” He says.
The kitten stares at Bucky for a moment before slowly coming out of her hiding spot. She cautiously sniffed his hand before head butting him. Bucky smiles and lets the kitten warm up to him before picking her up and stood up.
“You’re adorable.” He coos, gently petting her. “Do you want to come home with me?” He asks her.
The kitten purred in response. Bucky took that as a yes.
“Here.” He put her in his jacket pocket so she’ll be warmer. “You’ll be warmer in there.” He says.
Bucky walked out of the alley and continued his walk home, keeping the kitten warm and giving her attention the whole walk.
“You’re going to like it here.” Bucky tells the kitten as he walks in the apartment complex you and him live in. “I mean, this place may not be much, but me and Y/N call it home.” He adds as he got on the elevator, pushing the button for the floor you and him live on. “Y/N is my girlfriend and she’s going to be your new mommy and I’m going to be your new daddy.” He says.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. He got off the elevator and made his way to yours and his apartment. He unlocked the door and walked inside, closing the door behind him. He kept his right hand on the kitten the whole time.
“Bucky, is that you?” You asked from the kitchen.
“Yea.” He answers, walking to the kitchen.
You smiled as he walked in the kitchen. You walked up to him and kissed his lip, frowning when you noticed his right hand on the left side of his chest.
“Are you hurt, baby?” You asked with concern in your voice.
“No. I found something- someone I mean.” He says.
You watched as Bucky pulled a white kitten out of his jacket pocket and gently cradled her against his chest.
“Oh my god…” You were speechless. “Where did you find her or him?” You asked, gently petting the kitten.
“I found him or her in an alley, scared and alone on my way home.” Bucky explains.
“Poor baby.” You cooed, gently taking the kitten out of Bucky’s hands and cradled her against your chest. “We’ll take care of you and love you.” You say to the kitten.
You went to the bathroom to clean the kitten up with Bucky by your side.
“Doll?” He asks.
“Yea, babe?” You said looking at him.
“How can we tell if the kitten is a boy or a girl?” He asks, looking at the kitten as he carefully and gently dried her.
“You have to look at his or her private parts.” You tell him.
Bucky carefully held the kitten up, checking for the gender.
“I don’t see balls so it’s a girl.” He says.
“We have a little girl.” You confirmed with a smile.
Bucky smiles and kisses your lips sweetly. The kiss was interrupted when the kitten let out a squeaky meow.
“Sorry, princess. I bet you’re hungry. Let’s get you something to eat.” Bucky says to the kitten.
You followed Bucky to the kitchen and watched as he gave the kitten some milk. You two sat down on the kitchen floor and watched her drink the milk.
“She needs a name.” You say.
“Can I name her?” Bucky asks you.
“Of course you can, baby.” You say with a smile.
Bucky looked at the kitten, humming softly as he thought of a name for her.
“Alpine.” He says.
The kitten looked up at Bucky when he said the name, making him smile.
“Do you like that name, princess?” He asks her.
The kitten responded by crawling onto Bucky’s lap, demanding for attention.
“Alpine it is.” He confirms.
“Welcome home, Alpine.” You gave her some pets. “We’ll go to the store tomorrow to get you some things you might need.” You say.
“Doesn’t your cousin work at a vet office?” Bucky asks, looking at you.
“Yea. She just started working there.” You say.
“We should take Alpine there and have her check her out to make sure everything’s ok with her.” He says.
The next morning, you and Bucky took Alpine to the vet to get her checked out.
“Y/N! Bucky!” Your cousin greets you and Bucky with a hug. “What’re you two doing on this side of town?” She asks curiously.
“I found a kitten last night and we wanted to make sure everything’s ok with her.” Bucky explains to her.
“Let me see her.” She holds her hands out. “What’s her name?” She asks as Bucky put Alpine in her hands.
“Alpine.” You tell her.
“Well, hello Alpine. I’m going to make sure everyone is ok with you.” She says, looking at her.
You and Bucky followed her to one of the rooms and watched as she checked her out.
“Everything looks great. She’s perfectly healthy.” Your cousin says, carefully putting Alpine in your arms.
“That’s good, isn’t it, princess?” You say looking down at her.
“Thank you for checking her out.” Bucky thanks your cousin.
“No problem. You two have a great rest of your day and I expect you two to text me pictures of Alpine.” She says.
“Will do.” You say with a smile as you and Bucky left the vet.
You two went to the pet store and got kitten food, some toys, a collar, and other essentials a kitten might need.
“What color collar do you want, Alpine? Red or pink?” Bucky asks, holding two different colored collars in front of her.
Alpine curiously sniffed the red one.
“Red it is.” He says, putting the pink one back on the shelf.
You guys paid for everything and went home. You two immediately set up everything for Alpine. You put the collar on Alpine’s neck, making sure it wasn’t too tight or too loose and made sure it was comfortable for her.
“Go show daddy how pretty you look.” You cooed, putting her on the floor.
Alpine ran to the living room where Bucky was. He looked down, smiling when he heard the bell ringing on Alpine’s collar. He leaned down and picked her up.
“Well, don’t you look pretty.” Bucky says, smiling at her.
Bucky gently booped her little nose with his vibranium finger. Alpine playfully batted at it, making him laugh.
“My hand is not a toy.” He jokingly says.
“To her it is.” You say, sitting down on the couch next to him.
You and Bucky spent the rest of the night watching Alpine adjust to her new home and play with her new toys.
“Alpine is going to love it here.” You say.
“She is.” Bucky agrees, kissing your lips.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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itstheghostofmypast · 2 months ago
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Awake - (Maknae Line)
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separate members Ateez x (F)Reader
Summary: You went to sleep after a HUGE (not really) fight, only, when you went to sleep you were alone, not in the comforting arms of your lover.
Genre: Hurt + Comfort
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: None
Word Count: 9.5K
Est.Read Time: 47 min
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet
Banner: @cafekitsune
Hyung Line: Here
A/N: A little update, this took forever- Also I no longer remember how to write a literature review, yet, it is due on Monday (fml) .I'll update my requests soon and upload the next chapter of Meow soon, too! (I AM SORRY SAN'S PART IS EXTREMELY LONG)
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Choi San
“I…what?” you paused, looking up from the vacuum-packed pillow in your lap. Sitting at the center of his bed, surrounded by various items, you blinked at the man in the swivel chair.
“I said no, I'm not going to use or put any other pillows on my bed.” The beanie clad man spat back, crossing his arms over his chest, the black shirt clinging onto his form. An eerie silence settled between the two, neither making their next move, nor deciding to back down. 
The evening had started extremely well. Tonight she was going to spend the night at his place, for the first time ever, which is why she was extremely excited and nervous. The two had spent a week planning the various activities for Friday night. He had volunteered to arrange the movies and bring the gaming console to his room, thrilled when she told him she'd bring the skincare products, claiming the two could do facials and wear face masks! It got better when he asked if perhaps they could play board games to which she instantly agreed, adding - “Let's bake too! I'll get the ingredients!” 
Hence, as soon as you had entered his room, you had dumped the contents of your back on his bed, showing him the numerous facemasks, UNO cards, a board game, some hair accessories, makeup and an unhealthy amount of snack (yes, you were planning on doing cutesy couple things)  you had brought, the ingredients for the ‘special Friday night brownie’ on the computer desk beside him.  What you did not expect was for it to all go down hill once you took out the pillows.
“What’s that?” he asked, watching you pull a vacuumed white thing out of your bag, one after another. Placing them on his bed, before taking out two pillow covers. You smiled at him, before ripping off the seal of one of the pillows, pulling the plastic off, and watching as it fluffed up. “Pillows!” you smiled, “You only have one, the poor boy is all worn out, lumpy, and old, so I got two more! You can replace it with them!” looking at him, you pressed the cotton pillow, to show him, “They’re super soft and have memory foam, I got them, especially for your neck and shoulders!” 
You grabbed the second one and placed it on your lap when he spoke, “No.” 
“What?”
“I said no, I'm not going to use or put any other pillows on my bed.”
Blinking at him, you moved the sealed pillow aside and scooted closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him, trying not to push any of the multiple things you had brought off the bed. Feet pressing against the floor you looked up at him, hands on your knees, leaning closer, “Sannie…it’s just a pillow-” 
That was perhaps all it took for the mood to go sour, real quick. He had got up from his seat and marched towards her, causing her eyes to widen in surprise, especially when he had stood right above her, hands on his hips, saying something she’d never even imagined, before reaching beside her - though she had flinched when his hand came closer, something he had noticed but chose to ignore- grabbing his pillow and pulling back. He stared at her, not even sparing her a glance as he walked out of the room, making sure to slam the door behind him as he did so, his words still ringing in her ears as she blinked down at her hands, wondering what she had said, if she had done something to offend him, if she really was inconsiderate.
 “I didn’t know you could be so inconsiderate and spoiled- or maybe you’re just selfish.”
Honestly, you had thought of going after him, but you had never seen react like this- this uncharacteristic outburst was extremely new to you, the cold words thrown at you were worse, this wasn’t what you were used to. This wasn’t the same Sannie who would whisper sweet nothings in your ear when you were sad, this wasn’t the same Sannie who once came over when he found out you were sick, only leaving when you were asleep and well fed. This definitely wasn’t the same man who had taken hold of your heart, delicately placing it in his pocket- no, you really didn’t know who that was. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t go after him, at one point, you had thought of packing up and going home, but when you glanced at the clock 01.23 AM was not a very appropriate time to travel back home alone. With that you had neatly packed up everything but the essentials needed for your nightly routine,making sure all you’d have to do was change before leaving as soon as the sun woke up. 
You peaked out the door to find complete darkness, sighing in relief as you took your essentials and walked down the hall towards the washroom, passing by Seonghwa’s room, making sure to be quiet when you noticed the light peaking through from under the door. If you focused, you could make out Seonghwa’s muffled voice, though it was like he was talking to himself, or he was on the phone, but he did not sound pleased at all. Due to which you tried to rush through your routine, making sure to be as quiet as before, slowly closing the door, your breath hitching at the soft click, a hand gripping the door handle, while your palm pressed against the wood, trying to listen to any sounds of movements, luckily there was nothing. 
With a sigh you walked over to the mirror, grimacing at the sight, your new night suit was but a simple but a cute cotton outfit, a lavender camisole with a patching pair of loose fitted shorts, ensuring maximum comfort and well…it was supposed to ensure his liking as well. The mere thought of him squeezed your heart, wanting to go after him and sort it out- but no, you were a big girl and a smart one, no man could just say something so brash and throw a fit before leaving, not even the man who held your heart in his warm palm. 
You had assumed that these thoughts were going to consume and feed off your sleep, but boy, were you wrong, as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light, off to dreaming about who knows what, but it was a pleasant dream, a very soft, warm and nice dream, maybe it was because of the new pillow, who knows- but it was a very life like dream, where you felt all fuzzy and secure, as if you were in a comforting hug, ones like he’d give you, a bit too…realistic. 
Though she only jerked awake at the feeling of something trailing up her spine, a small gasp breaking the silence, as she tried to move away, only to be pulled closer, a groan from above her head vibrating through her whole being. Oh. 
Letting out a sigh of relief, you tilted your head up, to the best of your ability, forcing the man’s chin off your head as he blinked down at you with droopy eyes, a sheepish pout, ever so visible even in the dim light. The thing trailing up your spine, was in fact, his fingers, his fingertips tracing your spine, in a soothing manner. Your own hand squeezed in between their bodies, trying to push him away but he didn't budge, only his palm pressed against the small of your back, trying to keep you near him.
“You don’t get to be mean, and assume a little skinship is gonna fix that.”
Your words were harsh, and your tone was even more harsh, but you wanted it to be, you wanted it to sting, enough for him to realise this wasn't a joke, he had ruined the entire night and the mood.
His grip loosened at your words, enough for you to slip away from you to move onto the other pillow, sighing at the cold sensation on your cheek, now at the same eye level as the moron who was on the other pillow- internally you wanted to be petty and snatch it from under his head, he didn't deserve it, but the sight of his mochi cheek smashed against the soft pillow had your inner girl squealing at at the sight.
“I…I've had this same pillow since my trainee days.” he mumbled, reaching behind him to pull out the lumpy, beat up, tired pillow and pulling it to his chest, hugging it closer, “I had it when I got picked…I had it when we went to Gangnam…when grandpa…passed and…well…I- did you think I was gonna...hurt you?” He whispered, referring to the way you had flinched, of course the guilt was eating him up, that's why he had gone to Seonghwa to talk about it- maybe he looked to scary for his own good, but hell, an angry Seonghwa was even more frightening, and that's whom he had to deal with.
With a deep breath you reached over and placed your hand on top of his hand, "It was...reflex...I knew you wouldn't...at least not physically," , noticing how his fingers gripped the pillow harder at contact, “Why…didn't you just…say that before?”
His breath hitched at your question, looking everywhere but at your face, the insecurities brewing inside as he chewed on his lower lip, unsure if he should answer you, what would you think about him if he told you? What if you find it weird, what if his insecurities and his past makes you question the worth of this relationshipz- he's not the boy he used to be, he's not sensitive or weak or-
“Sannie…” she whispered, slowly moving closer to him, her face on the same fluffy pillow he was on, the old pillow now squished between the two as she sighed, “You can tell me…” Her hand cupped his cheek, thumb stroking the warm skin, trying fo coax whatever it was out of him. She was still upset, but, she'd never seen him this conflicted. 
“I just…” with a sigh he closed his eyes, thinking of what to say, only to end up blank. He opened his eyes to meet hers, mumbling, “Seonghwa yelled at me for what I said to you…he's right…I shouldn't have said that…I just…you don't really know…I mean I wasn't always…like this…this big or…manly or strong-” his grip on the pillow loosened, instead his arm wrapped around her, pulling her into him in one go, his lips curled into a small smile at her squeak, his pillow between the two, pressed to the max, “And when…you said its just a pillow I- I kind of…I mean its stupid but it scared me how I… if you were to realise I just grew bigger, I'm not that different, I'm still scared of bugs, I still hate vegetables and -”
“You really are a little dumb.” you cut him off, pressing a finger on his lips, to shush him, “I don't care if you're not all buff and big, I don't care if you were lanky and whiney- I just know you were San then and you are San now- as long as that big ol'heart of yours stays the same, I'm all yours.”
You felt his grip tighten around you, pressing your forehead against him as he relaxed against you, letting out a breath of relief. 
“Sure, these big boys add a great amount to your aura points though.” You giggled, patting his muscular arms, “A softie with big guns is all a girl wants~” you smiled at the way his face contorted in confusion, only to quickly press your lips against him, laughing at his surprised squeak. 
“I'll make it up to you…” he whispered,  finally feeling the exhaustion of the entire confession settling in, moving to remove the pillow from between them but she stopped him, surprising him yet again as she smiled at him, one that had his heart beat so loud that's all he could hear.
“I said don't use it as a pillow because your neck will hurt, but I never said throw away a part of yourself- plus its nice…smells like you.” her fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled his arm over the pillow and herself, snuggling closer to him, “You're lucky I was staying over for the whole weekend.”
With your head tucked under his chin, arm wrapped around him, smoothly rubbing his back, his wrapped around your waist, he sighed nuzzling into the new pillows, happy that they carried your scent more than his,  “Lucky to have you in my life.”
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Song Mingi
Of course you were mad at him, how could you not be? He was supposed to come home by 6- he was supposed to spend the evening with you, have dinner with you, watch a movie with you, and spend your anniversary together. Well technically, it was your 6 month anniversary,  but hey, half a year meant something to you, and as much as you were mature and ‘a cold-hearted’ b*tch, as claimed by your male coworkers, you were just soft for the giant man child who somehow managed to thaw the glacier you had for a heart.
So, when you had texted him earlier today he had instantly replied with an excited confirmation, what you did not think that after that he wouldn’t respond to you. You tried calling too, but his phone went straight to voicemail, so you waited and waited and waited- until you got a little notification of a certain white haired man doing a live, one that wasn’t scheduled. Were you upset because he was doing his job? No. Were you upset he didn’t tell you? Yes. He should’ve been decent enough to at least text you that he was going to be late, that he had work- you’d never asked him to prioritise you over his work, you knew what you were getting into, and with your workaholic personality, he knew yours, which is why he should have known that you would have understood wherever he was coming from.
Naturally she was furious when he stepped into the apartment, though being Mingi, he had no clue what she was upset about, even after he saw the cold pizza, the melted candles and small gift that lay wrapped in glossy paper. Instead he had walked over to her with a smile, ready to hug her- wrong move.
"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!" 
Her voice boomed across the hall, followed by the echo of her slap resonated in the confines of his aching heart, staring down at her with utter shock, a whimper at the tip of his tongue, an apology right after but hey- this was Song Mingi, and using his actual emotional maturity was never his first move.
Hence the platinum blonde gasped, giving her an offended look and mumbling, "Why are you being so pissy? It's literally a pizza, not some homemade meal." He eyed the table before turning to her, though she looked as if she were about to explode- somewhere deep down he was kind of afraid, he’d never seen her this angry, she was often quite calm and composed, extremely reserved. That would explain why her reaction caught him off guard, especially when he tried to talk to her, tried to hold her hand so she’d stop leaving every damn room she walked into.
“Look, I have a job!!” he called out walking after her, into the kitchen, “You of all people should know that, I can’t just leave my fans because you wanna celebrate some made up event!”
“Its not made up Mingi!” you turned around and glared at him, “I- I asked you two days ago about this, I told you it meant something to me and- I just, I can’t believe you didn’t even think of texting me! What’s the difference between you and any other guy from my office if you can’t communicate properly!”
Granted, if he took a minute to process her words, but sometimes she was so complicated. Moreover, he knew what he got into once he began to chase after her for months, he knew what he was getting into when she directly told him about her issues and insecurities, her reserved attitude and persona, one that she often let go off when she was with her giant, lovable dummy. If he kept all those factors in mind, and just took a moment to think, he would have understood the premise of her argument, but he really didn’t want to, or perhaps he just didn’t take it seriously, either way, his next words were the reason for which he was back in his form, wondering why the hell he didn’t think of apologising like a normal person.
“They’re lucky because they don't have a Runik's cube for a girlfriend.”
That was all it took for the bomb to go off;
"GET YOUR FAKE GOJO LOOKIN ASS OUT OF MY APARTMENT!”
“W-what-” his question was cut off when she shoved him away, going to grab the nearest object which happened to be the very present she had spent most of her salary on, swinging it right at his face- screw his job. But the bastard was quick when he ducked and tried to get to her, only to get whacked in the head with a candle, “Babe-”
“I SAID LEAVE!” you yelled, staring at him through bleary eyes, trying to keep the whirlwind of emotions, taking a deep breath as you pointed towards the door, feeling the cold slither up your fingertips, choosing the words that would end it all, whoever said dating was fun, was wrong, you’d rather stay single than feel any similar form of pain, though you did feel like you should have the final say in this. It didnt matter that the tall man in front of you looked like he was fumbling with the pieces of your so called relationship, tripping over his words has he tried to sprout out an apology, “Leave, let me relieve you of this burden.”
For you, the conversation had ended there, especially when he was standing outside, not sparing him a moment as you slammed the door on his face. After that, like any San individual you had cleared up the table, initially thinking of throwing out the pizza, but then it hit you - “I work hard to earn too, its not just him.” So you kept that, threw away the candles and the other decorations (stabbed the balloons-naturally). Honestly, you didn't know where his gift went, probably smashed into pieces after it ‘boinked’ off his stupid, giant head. After that you had washed up (cried in the shower for about an hour or so), stumbled towards your bed and knocked out as soon as your head hit the pillow.
The worst kind of ‘black-out’ sleep known to man, is what you endured that night, only to wake up when the fire alarm went off, fighting off the blankets, almost tumbling to your demise several times before entering the kitchen, coughing as the smoke entered your lungs. You opened the nearest window and turned around to bump into a softer form, arms wrapping around your form, before you were dragged out of the apartment and into the balcony, wheezing for your life, taking in as much clean air in one go as possible. 
Mingi rubbed her back in a circular motion, a hand holding onto hers, helping her sit down on one of the stools, pulling one closer and sitting right next to her as he held her hand, thinking of going back inside to get her water, though when he felt her squeeze his hand he face turned to meet hers, blinking at her stoic face. Damn, she’s still mad at him.
As soon as clarity hit, she had realised, this moron was back, not only that, it was still night out, so he had graciously trespassed into her apartment, set something on fire, almost killed her and then dragged her out on the balcony, of all the idiots she could’ve picked from to date, she chose the their leader.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was…trying to make you breakfast.”
“I told you its over-the hell? What time is it?”
She got up only to feel him tug her back down, this time onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist so she couldn’t escape, as she glared down at him, “Let go.”
“No…” shaking his head he buried his face in her neck, “ its 5 something, I…I’m sorry.” he whispered, feeling her stiffen in his hold, he knew a mere apology wouldn’t be enough, but he had to start somewhere, especially when he had gone back to the apartment and narrated the entire incident to his two bros- both thus throwing him back out, San adding an, “And don’t come back until you fix your mess, you ungrateful idiot.” Truthfully, he didn’t need to tell him that he had f*cked up, he was well aware of that fact, he just needed a push- that and he was terrified of her, he’d only seen her get angry at her coworkers when they’d mess up work, or that one time she got mad at a couple of highschoolers who thought kicking a puppy was fun, he’d never been the one at the receiving end of her wrath, until today. Perhaps that’s why he had assumed he was all forgiven, all safe, he had some form of immunity, thus, giving him the privilege of being mean to her- well, that theory was stupid. Wat made him assume he could just be mean to her because he felt like it? Since when was he, someone who knows what it felt like to be neglected, begin to neglect his own loved ones? She never fell in love with a man who was like this- what was he doing?
She was about to push him off, especially after he didn’t bother adding anything after his sorry, no explanation, nothing, only to stop when she felt something damp on her skin, realising that he in fact was not rocking them back and forth, but the man child was crying. 
“Dude…are you…crying?” she asked, gripping her shoulders as she pushed him away, earning a whine, as the bigger man tried to cover his face with his hands, “Song Mingi, what is wrong with you-”
“I’m sorry, okay!” his whimper had her freezing, eying his face, “I- I didn’t mean it! I don’t know why I said it, okay? It wasn’t cool and I-I know tha- I just- you’ve never, I mean- angry- upset because of me-” his words when she squeezed his cheeks, cupping his warm face, glaring down at him, frowning at the wetness.
“The Song Mingi I fell in love with was a softie- not a red flag like Gojo.”
He could only nod at her statement, fingers gripping onto her harder, cherishing the lack of past tense in her statement.
“Am I going to get him back, or is this the new you?”
She moved her hands to let him speak, only he pulled her flush against him, instinctively her arms wrapped around his shoulders, sighing when she felt his hold tighten. Her small squeak echoed in the quiet of the early morning, blending in with the soft symphony of the birds that had woken up before the sun, as he stood up, slowly walking back inside the apartment. With her legs wrapped around his waist, she blinked up at him, catching his little pout, only to sigh, as he carried her to her bedroom, only stopping at the edge of his bed.
“Can I…sleep with you?”
She hummed for a moment, biting her lip to hide her smile, when she noticed him frown at the time she was taking to answer his question, “What if I say no-SONG MINGI!”
He rolled his eyes at your little scream, he didn’t put his entire body weight on you, though, he did roll around until both of you were wrapped in a soft cocoon, with your back pressed against his warm, broad chest, his arm wrapped around you, as he shamelessly draped a heavy leg over yours. For a while, the two of you lay there silently, watching as the golden beams of the warm morning sun, sifted through the slits of the curtains, creating an luminous mosaic across the opposite wall, the song of the world waking up around you was slowly lulling you to sleep, and just when it became just right, he instantly broke the peaceful atmosphere, “Thank you for the ring.”
“Oh.” so it didnt vanish, he had taken it,
“Most welcome…”you whispered, trying to cling onto the strings of tranquility that were wrapped around you, “Did you take it before I threw you out?”
“Mhmm…is it…a couple ring?” he asked, though a moment later he got no response, causing him to peer down at her, and let out a chuckle, she had fallen asleep- she must’ve been tired, especially after all the stupid things he did yesterday, though his smile widened after his hand trailed down her arm, hand clasping hers, almost shivering with joy at the feeling of the cold metal on her finger.
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Jung Wooyoung
Wooyoung had a sharp tongue, he knew that, the guys knew that, hell, you knew that too, but did that mean you were prepared for it? No, of course not, you were his little, itty-bitty, cute pookie- don't hate the name, hate the man who had bestowed it upon you. 
He gave you the name when you called him to your apartment for the first time, mind you, it wasn't what Wooyoung was expecting. The first time you had invited him over for the night had him rolling on the ground like a dog, his shy and quiet little girlfriend was willingly fueling his weird side, he couldn't wait to barge into her private space, ask her all sort of questions, learn more about her, tease her, test her limits, take in her reactions, in every sense; physical and psychological.
The moment she had opened the door and his eyes landed on her cotton baby pink shorts, he felt himself shiver with excitement, trying not to howl like a mad dog, scaring her away- though that entire fantasy was short lived when he realised by ‘sleep over’ she literally meant ‘sleep over’, like a …slumber party. So yes, that night they didn't do what he thought they would, but they did; give each other facials, watch a movie while wearing her newly bought sheet masks, paint each other’s nails (well he just made a mess of hers) and do each other's hair, honestly the night ended with him going straight to dreamland once she began to brush his hair, only waking up in the morning to find her snuggled with him, clinging onto him. He liked it, never thought he would, but the moment his eyes noticed the way she was gripping onto his shirt, his heart leaped with joy- it felt nice being loved like this, being needed. Hence, sleepovers like these had become a norm, so much so that sometimes she'd go over to his place unannounced, and surprise him with her little surprise sleepover, one he'd often love it. Instantly attacking her with unlimited smooches, hugging and squeezing her till the air in her lungs would run out. 
Unfortunately, tonight was not one of those nights, in fact, when he had walked into his room, the sight of you actually irked him- unsure of why, but your shy smile and gentle eyes just had just made his blood boil. Perhaps it was the stress of the entire day, or the argument he had with San over something stupid, or how Mingi ate his chicken piece, or because Jongho kept on humming a silly tune even on the ride back home. The point is, he was not pleased, and like the love-struck puppy you were, you didn’t register his loud sigh or the way he dropped his bag on the floor, instead, you chose to slide his swivel chair to him, smiling up at him and reaching for his hand, “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said before slipping his hand out of yours and going to his cupboard, all the while struggling to take off his sweatshirt and tossing it somewhere once he was done. He could hear the squeak of the wheel as he turned around and looked at you, taking in the way you were pouting at him, somewhere deep down he found you adorable, but on the surface, he really couldn’t deal with you right now- he just wanted to be alone. Moving around you, he went back out of the room, leaving you confused and a bit hurt. It wasn’t like Wooyoung to react like this, to completely leave you hanging. Sure, he had moments where his social battery would run out, when he’d just come to her apartment and lay on her bed, idly scrolling on his phone, just making enough space for her, when she’d come and lay with him, letting her snuggle into his while he continued doing what he was quietly, neither saying a word- but he had never ignored her.
He looked tired…like he was tired of her? Shaking your head at the thought, you instantly thought of ways to make him feel better, considering his flatmates were outside and he was still in the shower (probably), you looked around his room, you could tidy it up, and you did, and once you were done, you picked up his jacket to hang it in his cupboard only to frown at the mess inside; hang clothes, fold them neatly, align the shoes- as long as Youngie Is less stressed and feels better, that was your goal.
By the time you were done, it had already been an hour. You were hanging the last jacket when the man walked back in, staring at you with the same unreadable expression, completely ignoring your cute smile, watching as you closed the cupboard. You were about to ask him what was bothering him when he tossed the wet towel on the chair and walked out of the room again, but this time you trailed after him, asking him all sorts of questions, just to get him to finally say something.
“How was your day?”
“Fine.”
He walked into the kitchen, you just followed.
“Did you take a rest between practice?”
“Yeah.”
He opened the fridge to take out last night’s pizza, well, this was it then, he turned around and almost cursed, she was standing there with a plate for him. He took it, mumbling a thanks, before putting it in the microwave. Standing there, arms crossed as he glared at the device to bloody hurry up. 
“How was the photoshoot?”
“Fine. Nothing new.”
“I brought face masks, wanna wear one later?”
“No.”
“Oh,okay …I got my bonus today.”
“Great.”
“Wanna spend it with me on cute things?”
“No.” he mumbled, “Invest it.” he sighed, before opening the microwave, taking the plate and turning around, only to sigh when he saw her holding a chair out for him, pouting when he frowned at her. Truth be told, he’d never reacted like this, she wasn’t sure what to do? He’d often match her energy- or ‘her freak’, as he’d say. Maybe being nice to him would make him feel better? She sat down on the chair beside him, facing him, though he just started to eat quietly, not really saying anything.
“You want some tea?”
“No.”
“Oh…” you mumbled, looking at your lap, taking a moment to think, before looking up at him, again, watching him take a bite, he was chewing quietly when you gently reached over to tuck some of the stray wet strands behind his ear- though he didn’t seem pleased, in fact, he just let out an irritated huff and turned his head to look at you. You quickly recoiled, mumbling an apology, new tactic, stay quiet, maybe just staying by him would make him feel better. Therefore, you watched him go about his business, watching him wash the plate and put it on the rack before going out of the kitchen.
He finally sat down in front of the TV, rubbing his aching neck, waiting for the damn thing to turn on when he felt the sofa dip, feeling her sitting close to him. He side eyed her before putting on a game, whatever, he’d watch the match on repeat. Hunched forward, elbows on his knees, frowning as he stared at the screen. Okay, so she said she wouldn’t touch him, but if he was in pain, maybe she could help out, massage his shoulders or neck? She moved closer to him, enough for her fingers to graze his arm, “Youngie… you need me to massage it?” 
“What I need is for you to not act like an attention deprived clingy girlfriend for a while.”
She froze at his words, slowly watching him get up and walk away mumbling something else about wanting to be left alone, or how he never had a moment of peace- honestly it didn’t matter anymore, his previous sentence had done enough damage. If he wanted to be left alone so be it, she was going to give him exactly what he wanted. Once she heard the door slam shut she sniffled, finally letting the fat tears roll down her flushed cheeks, wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve, his words kept repeating in her mind, over and over again. Without glancing at the time, she decided to go to the only place she'd be able to cry in peace, without giving him the satisfaction of the hurt of his words- that and she wanted to fulfil his wish,  she was going to give him some peace and quiet.
Slamming the door shut behind him he mumbled something about being smothered by her as he flopped down on the bed, turning to the side to face the wall as he huffed, closing his eyes. Moments passed but sleep was not something he was blessed with, instead he kept on tossing and turning, finally turning to other side, often her side, of the bed, glaring at it. Why wasn't she here? she’s the one who wanted to spend time with him, rudely showing up here unannounced,  interrupting his normal routine, talking away when he was eating, even offering to massage his neck. Was she a masseuse!? 
With a huff he sat up and glared around the room, spotting her pink small suitcase, neatly placed at the corner of the room. His eyes flickered to the desk, organised and clean. On it where a variety of neatly stacked face masks, some nail polishes and her makeup pouch. Sliding off the bed, he walked out of the room, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants as he continued grumbling. Granted he was still annoyed but he did need her to sleep and- where was she? 
Confused, he looked around the living room, then walked into the kitchen, wondering if she was making tea. She was nowhere in sight. He made his was down the hall to look for her in the washroom, knocking when the door wouldn't open, “You in there?”
“Yes, now scram.”  
Ignoring Jongho he walked back into his room, perhaps she had gone back into the room- the panic was beginning to settle in as he slammed open the door to be met with a clean room. Shit. Shit, shit, shit! Where did she go?! His panic began to morph into guilt once the memories of his behaviour with her began to play at the back of his mind. 
“Cupcake!?” 
Grabbing his phone he went through his contact, tapping on her contact ID 🧚‍♀Bby Gurl🧚‍♀️. He pressed the phone against his ear, chewing on his lower lip as he waited for her to pick up, but when he heard the muffled sound of her ringer coming from her PURSE!? Cue Wooyoung going into full panic mode as he ran to her purse, flipping it over on his desk, staring at the phone. Shit. Where did she go?! It was- oh hell no, it was 2 am. He wracked his brain for what could he have said, it was something mean, but truth be told he didn't remember- a toxic trait, he knows, and he's not proud of it, especially since he used it to hurt her.
Deciding it was time to find her, he opened his cupboard to take out a jacket, only to feel his gut clench…she had organised his cupboard too. What the hell Wooyoung? She wasn't your maid, she was only being nice to you! The image of her small frown flashed before his eyes as he zipped up his jacket. He grimaced at the thought of tone he had used with her, how he had ignored her when she tried to touch him, since when he was against skinship? Pulling the door open he came face to face with none other than-
“Mind telling me why I found her crying in the parking lot?”
“Hongjoong move I- What?” his eyes almost popped out of their sockets as he saw his girl standing there behind Hongjoong, staring at the ground with bloodshot eyes.
“I- HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND!?”
You flinched at his tone, whining and hiding behind the man who had spent almost an hour trying to convince you to come back to the apartment. Hongjoong was parking his car when he saw someone sitting there on the concrete ground, next to a very familiar car. You hadn’t said much to him, only that you left your keys upstairs and if he could be kind enough to get them- he wasn’t an idiot, one look at your pink nose and puffy eyes, he knew this had Wooyoung written all over it. Hence, he had to spend an hour trying to convince you to at least come upstairs, it was already too late to go back home.
“Wooyoung.” the older one warned, eying his bandmate who could only sigh and nod, letting him know that his defences were down and he was no longer in the mood for hurting her in any manner, in fact, he wanted nothing more to apologize and beg for her forgiveness. Though, perhaps that’s not how Hongjoong saw it, for he let the girl go into her boyfriend’s room before closing the door so he could have a heart-to-heart talk with this moron.
Once the door closed you walked over to your makeup pouch, taking out your wet wipes and removing the mascara and makeup that had smeared because of all the crying. You quickly changed your clothes, glancing at the door every five seconds in case he was coming in, you were in no mood to talk to him. As soon as you were done you turned off the lights- yeah, you wanted him to trip and land on his stupidly handsome face- and jumped onto the bed, cocooning yourself in his blanket. No, you did not plan on sharing it, though the fact that you were now surrounded by him had a very paradoxical effect; on one hand, you were extremely furious at the man, wanting nothing more than to avoid him for the rest of your life, on the other hand, being surrounded by his being, in his sheets, made you feel safer, made you feel warmer, you liked it- you hated it- you liked it- you hated it- you loved him.
Yet, for some unforsaken reason, he thought shaking you awake from a blissful slumber would be a wonderful idea. As soon as Hongjoong was done with his lecture, he slipped back into the room to talk to her but found her asleep. A part of him wanted her to rest, especially when he removed the blanket from her face, sighing in guilt as he noticed how tired she looked, her brows furrowed even in her sleep- no, he wasn't going be one of those couples that went to bed after a fight. 
Her world shook as she gasped, hand grabbing whatever was shaking her, until she flung the hand off her shoulder and turned to the other side mumbling, “Stop it…I'm tired.”
“And I'm sorry.” 
You had heard him loud and clear, you even her the guilt in his tone, but did you care? No. you weren't going to be a clingy deprived girlfriend, so you did what he wanted, and ignored him as you closed your eyes again. Trying to ignore him when he apologised again, this type pressing his cheek against yours, rubbing it against yours, and throwing his leg over yours, basically laying half on top of you, “I really am sorry.”
With a huff you shoved him off and sat up, back against the headrest as you glared at him with your arms crossed, cheeks puffed out and- 
Oh my god, Wooyoung, she’s pouting. He internally screamed, taking in your droopy eyes, your puffed out rosy cheeks and the way you were pouting- his cutie really was something. He tried to reach for your cheek but you slapped his hand away, causing him to yelp and frown, “I am apologising here.”
“Don’t talk to me, you’re horrible and mean! I just wanna go to sleep, stop pretending you like me!”
Horrible and mean…well, he’s heard worse, so he’d take it. He was mean to you, incredibly mean, and his attitude towards you was horrible. You were right about that, but  you were terribly wrong about the last part. Extremely wrong, if he says so himself. 
He looked at her intently, almost too intently, and he figured out he’d been giving her the ‘I’m a bastard’ stare when her form, faltered, her eyes began to water, as she bit her lip and broke the stare off, instead, dipping her head in shame like she was the one who was at fault here. Man, what was wrong with him today?
Her grip tightened on the cotton, pulling the blanket closer as if it were to bring her some form of comfort, if he wanted to break up with her that was fine, she just never thought her first break-up would be this nasty. She had mentioned a few times to him how this was her first relationship and although he seemed a bit hesitant, he had explained to her how his job made certain normal couple activities difficult for him sometimes, and if she’d want their relationship to flourish, she’d have to accept this fact. And she did, everything was fine, it was all going well, then what could she have possibly done for him to lash out at her like that? Maybe she was never cut out for this-
“That’s not true…” he whispered, placing his hands on hers, slowly unclenching her fists, his grip tightening on her hands when he heard her whimper, frowning at the way she hiccupped an apology again, looking up at him this time, as if she were trying to cling onto something that had slipped through her fingers. “That’s not true…and that’s not right,” with a heavy sigh he pulled her closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, manoeuvring them, till he was in her position, and now she was on his lap, arms around his neck, clinging onto him, dampening his shirt as loud sobs wracked through her petite frame, mumbling nonsense that he couldn’t interpret, “And…I’m sorry I made you think like that today.” Gently, he pressed his lips against her head, rubbing her back in a soothing motion, slowly giving her a squeeze every so often, pulling her closer, if possible. By the time she had calmed down, a bit, he slowly pushed her off his chest so he could look at her, but she never met his gaze, causing him to gently grip her chin, making her look up at him, “Hey…don’t look away,” he smiled at her, “Don’t hide that pretty face from me.” His smile faltered when he noticed her lower lip tremble, sighing as he cupped her face with both hands, “I am truly, extremely sorry for what I did and said today,” leaning closer he pressed his lips against her forehead, “Nothing I said or did today was triggered because of you being here- there is no explanation for my behaviour other than the fact that I handled my emotions poorly, and took it all out on that one person,” he paused to give her a smile, especially when he felt her grip tighten on his shirt, “the only person, who is concerned about my wellbeing and livelihood, and wants nothing but my love in return.”
“Woo…” she sniffed, pouting at him as she tugged on his shirt, “What made you so upset today?” 
He could chuckle at the way she was still worried about him, of course, leave it to his little love bug to be more concerned about ‘why’ he did what he did, just as soon as he apologises. Shaking his head in disbelief he booped her nose, shrugging, “Never mind that, do you want something to eat? I’ll whip up something real good, an apology feast for my lovely pookie.” His laugh bounced off the walls of his room once he noticed her visibly cringing at the nickname, “No? Well, how about I make sweet love to you, enough to have you screaming for more-” her hands clasped over his mouth, muffling his stupidity as she sighed in relief, resting her forehead against and closing her eyes to recover from the blush. 
When she felt him tap her waist she moved her hands and sighed, “Just hold me close.”
“Well, don’t need to ask me twice.” Wooyoung declared before pushing her off him cackling when he heard her squeak, wiggling her eyebrows at her, admiring how she almost bounced on his bed, before laying down, pulling her closer. His smile widened when she snuggled into him, gripping onto the back of his shirt, before her lips gently pressed against his skin, admiring the warmth, basking in his presence. He pulled up the blanket, covering them both, before placing his chin on top of her head, sighing in relief, trying to rid of the bad memories of the day. Letting the tranquil love envelope the two, enjoying just being there…that is until a soft whisper broke the silence, followed by another;
“Make it up to me tomorrow.”
“I’ll make it up to you for the rest of your life”
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Choi Jongho
Okay, yes, he was a bastard, he was well aware of that, but right now, the charming man had something else on his mind. What you ask, oh its simple, it was the same question almost every guy in the world had, the same dilemma every man in the world suffers through, an event every man self-induces; the, ‘How do I make my girlfriend feel better after I brought up her insecurities’. Now, one may wonder, what did this sweet little lad do? How could he possibly manage to upset his girl, his daisy, his lover, his sweety- well, it all started when he came down with a little cold, and the dictator Kim Hongjoong banned him from the studio and the dorm, which meant there would be no one acting at his every whim, hence, the little lad had to go to the next best thing, go to the only person who made his heart flutter like he just devoured some mentos after chugging a cola- his girlfriend.
It all started fine, with you opening the door, ready to go for a nightly jog when you saw your cute boy standing at the door, with his nose all pink and stuffy and his pout making your heart clench. Next thing he knew he was pulled inside and tucked into your fluffy, soft bed, being taken care of like there was no tomorrow. You were kind and sweet and ever caring, you’d always been like that, even before the two had started dating. 
You were so kind to him that you actually had the poor boy chasing you for almost a year. Now why is that one may wonder, simple, you were older than him- two years to be precise. The two of you had met by complete accident, you were out for your nightly jog and you had somehow managed to trip on the cracked footpath. Honestly you had thought no one was around so you hobbled to the nearest bench, trying to untie your shoe, when you heard someone clear their throat, causing you to freeze. He was big, you could tell and it wasn't just because of that hoodie and cap or mask- no, he looked borderline threatening. With an audible gulp you whispered, “Y-yes?” 
“Do you need help with that?” He asked, lowering his mask a bit and standing up before crouching next to your foot, causing you to flinch and shake your head but he was already slipping it off your foot, trying to not react to your bright yellow, Pikachu themed sock.
“You should be careful” he mumbled, inspecting the damage, “I think you just sprained it, if you want I could take you to an ER near by-”
“No thank you!” You cut him off, he was cute, there was no doubt in that, he looked sweet but hey, he was a guy and he was a guy who looked big enough to kill yo-
“My name's Jongho.” He sighed, and looked around, before sitting next to her, “And you are, strange nighters jogger?”
You blinked at him and sighed out your name, before mumbling, “What's an Ateez member doing out here in the middle of the night?” 
His blood ran cold at the mention of his band, causing him to slowly side eye her, though she looked as composed as ever, like she had just talked about the weather.
“I…uh-”
“Don't worry,” she mumbled, before sitting straight and stretching her, “Okay, I'm gonna go now.”
“Let me help you out.”
Honestly, the words had left him sooner than he could process them, his body had moved on its own, and in a matter of minutes she found herself sitting in an apartment she had never dreamt of before too, pressing an ice pack on her ankle, listening to Jongho and another man, Hongjoong battle it out.
“I’m sorry, but a random stranger?”
“Technically I see her jogging every day- or well at night.”
“So??”
“Technically she’s hurt.”
“Technically, Choi Jongho this isn’t a hospital.”
“Technically, it's rude to discuss someone in front of them, pretending they can’t hear you.”
That had led the older man to apologise and leave  them alone. That very statement had led Jongho to believe that he had found someone who could ‘match his freak’. So, after a year of jogging with her, he had finally managed to woo her. He liked their dynamic, he was the eldest in his home, he was bossy and of course mature, hence, he had assumed he’d prefer someone younger than him, someone more timid and shy, someone who’d be impressed by him- though the only thing she was severely impressed with was his potential to snap several apples in half, which was great, because she loved eating apples and he loved snapping them in half- he loved you.
Then, how come, you were now sitting on the same bench, where you had met the moron, questioning  your entire relationship- oh yeah, because when you forced him to drink his soup so he’d get better quicker, he decided to be a brat and snap at her;
“If I wanted to be coddled, I would’ve gone to my mom, you’re older, but not that old.”
Sure, leave it to Choi Jongho to bring up your insecurities because- well, not really, Jongho was often very sweet and considerate, he was attentive and mindful of both his actions, and his words, so if he had decided to let out something so bitter and rude, it really did mean he was sick. But did that make it any better? Did that mean he could just bring up something they’d discuss in the late hours of the night, alone with one another, surrounded by one another, vulnerable to one another. It was during these hours he had confessed how he was afraid she’d leave him for someone older, smarter, more mature, only for his whispers to turn into a snort when she told him how she was afraid that he’d leave her for someone younger than him, someone sweeter, and cuter, more shy and more timid. The two had slept better that night, snuggled up against each other, she loved how he had held her tighter than night, he had loved how she had let them sleep in the next morning, only to spend a few more minutes together.
So, no, he could not just say whatever he wanted because he was sick-
“You wanna get sick too?”
She flinched at the question, before letting out a small sigh at the familiarity of the voice, though she never turned to look at him, instead decided to leave. 
He turned to glance at you when you had ignored him, only for him to panic when you stood up to leave, instinctively reaching over and gripping your wrist he met your cold glare. For once he felt as if being cute was not going to make the cut, that you were not going to ‘act mature’ or ‘overtly understanding’, for once, he was scared. Though his grip never faltered, instead, you heard a meek, “Please,” so soft that if the world around the two of you was not deathly silent, you would’ve missed it. With a sigh you sat back down, but kept your distance, choosing to stare at the empty park, rather than looking at your lover, who was scooting closer to you. You let him, you let him, till his arm brushed against yours, the two of you staring at the empty park together, both waiting for the other to speak- technically you were waiting for an apology, while he was waiting for you to give him the signal to speak, he was too afraid to say anything else which could be more stupid than his last statement.
So, like a pair of fools, the two of you sat there, out in the cold, silently, for god knows how long. Honestly, you were surprised with his patience sometimes, you were also a bit disappointed he chose not to speak, but then again since when was speaking about your feelings his or your strongest trait- oh shit.You gasped when you felt his head drop on your shoulder, suddenly turning to the man, cupping his cold cheeks, as you shook him, “Jongho? Jong? Jongho wake up, come on, this isn’t funny- shit.”
.
With a groan he turned to his side, snuggling closer to the source of the warmth- oh he was back in his bed. HE WAS BACK IN HIS BED?? Sitting up he looked around in the dimly lit room, noting how the door was slightly open, deciding to go outside to look for her when she walked in holding a tray, eying him before mumbling something about laying back down. Honestly, it was difficult for him to process whatever she was saying next…he remembered fainting, well, actually he felt sleepy so he had just closed his eyes for a moment, and right now, he was more amazed by the sheer physical strength this woman possessed. Lord forgive if she were to smack him, he would’ve needed facial reconstructive surgery.
You placed the tray on the nightstand, and turned to him, helping him sit up against the headboard, before checking his temperature with the back of your hand, “You fainted…I called Hongjoong, who then called San…apparently you’re very difficult to carry.” You mumbled, moving to grab the tray, placing it on his lap, “Chicken soup, will help with the congestion and-”
“I’m sorry.”
“You better be.”
He blinked at her and nodded slowly before looking at the soup and staring at it, a moment had slipped before he chuckled, turning to look at her, admiring how she was now sitting on her side of the bed, facing him, “I thought you carried me here- was so scared if you were actually to smack me, I’d pass away.”
“Is this your way of apologising to me? Maybe I should be looking for guys my age or older” you frowned, only to end up snorting when you saw his eyes widen in fear, taking in the way he had stopped eating, staring at you like he was about to explode. Honestly, you wanted to let it simmer for a while, but when he whispered out your name, the way his voice cracked had you sighing in defeat, moving the tray off him and placing it at a safe distance, before you were tackled by him. His arms tightened around you, face buried in your neck as he mumbled something, which you couldn’t make out, but you presumed it was an apology, considering how your neck felt wet- oh no he was crying- well, didn’t mean to take it that far. Gently patting his head you slid down into the sheets, taking him with you, though he didn’t really do anything but hold you closer, his little sniffles making your heart ache.
“It was a joke…” sighing you kissed the top of his head, “I didn’t mean it…but at least now you know how I felt.” 
He pulled back a little to glare at you, “It’s not funny, you can pull anyone you want, I only managed to date you because you tripped.”
“That’s because I fell for you, baby bear-hey!”
“And the moment is gone.” he mumbled, pushing her away and laying on his back, clearing his throat, “Got more sick after that pick up line,” he felt her snuggle next to him as he smiled with his eyes closed, “Even more gross how I like it.”
“You like being sick?”
“Only if it means spending time with you.”
“Oh good, because my head hurts and I can feel the flu comin’ up.”
“Don’t worry, I know how to treat my lady right.”
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