Nobody:
Not a single soul:
Me: After the battle, sometimes Charlie and Vaggie wake up in the morning and Charlie’s tail is wrapped loosely around Vaggie’s waist as if ready at a moments notice to pull her out of danger. Sometimes it’s Vaggie’s wings curled around them like a soft cocoon. Sometimes it’s both and they just lay in bed for a few extra minutes content that the other is safe and warm in their arms.
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*Y/n and Nat trying to tuck their daughter into bed*
Y/n: Close your eyes, sweetheart
The little girl: Can I sleep with you and Mama?
Natasha: Not tonight, malyshka. You can sleep in your big girl bed
The girl, pouting to Y/n: It’s not fair. You get to snuggle with Mama every night and I’m all alone in here
Y/n: Oh, that’s so sweet. What do you think, Nat?
Natasha, smiling softly: Come on, baby girl. Let’s go snuggle
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soap and ghost, after months of flirting, of having each other’s backs and saving each other’s lives, of knowing the other better than they know themselves, finally getting together
ghost letting himself free fall onto the bed, soap following, always following his lead. they barely pull apart enough to get their shirts over their heads, hands running over muscles and scars and holding close
soap kisses every new scar that’s revealed to him, from the thick keloid divot over his ribs from some kind of puncture to the innumerable slashes and stitch wounds holding his torso together until he’s mouthing over his collarbones; the tips of his fingers lightly caressing the edges of his mask
ghost who’s been so quiet, so overwhelmed by soap’s touch that all he can do is sink into him, panting gasping breaths, finally pushes out, “don’t ask me. please…”
soap freezes, mouth hovering over his skin. “ghost…?”
ghost’s face is tilted away, eyes held so tightly shut they tremor while the rest of his body stays lax beneath his. desperate. resigned. “please don’t ask me, johnny.”
soap lets his hand fall from the mask, coming to run soothing circles over his clothed hip. “why?”
“because i’ll say yes,” he confesses and it’s great and terrible; a warning and a relinquishment laid at soap’s feet. “i’ll always say yes to you.”
for a long moment, there’s nothing but their shared breaths, nothing but their hearts beating for the other. until soap finally leans down to press a kiss to the corner of his hidden mouth; his lips meeting faint raised scar tissue he might never see
“i’ll never ask.”
ghost’s eyes drift open and they catch on soap’s; on a sea of promise and fierce protection
“i swear… i’ll never ask, ghost.”
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