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#like follow me around everywhere and take pictures of me to put on her wall and make notes of everything i do
alotofpockets · 6 months
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I'll follow you everywhere | Natasha Romanoff
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Summary: You’re on the run with your wife Natasha, when she receives a small box with red vials with a picture of a young Natasha and Yelena attached.
Warnings: Scenes from Black Widow used. Weapons, wounds, explosives, and a car crash. A/n: This is a repost from one of my old accounts.
Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 2.3K
You were browsing the shelves of the local supermarket in the small town in Norway where your current safe house was located. Natasha and the rest of the Avengers that weren’t already arrested were on the run. As her wife you weren’t letting her go on her own. You offered to go into town on your first night to get some food and other necessities as the chances of you getting recognized were way smaller than her being recognized by the locals, as her picture amongst those of the other rogue Avengers were shown on the news all over the world.
With all the supplies, you drive back to the trailer. You carry the bags inside and are met with Natasha staring at a box with something glowing inside of it. “What’s that?” You ask, oblivious to the contents of the box. Natasha turns around holding out a picture. You step closer to take a look at the photobooth picture in her hand, there are two young girls hugging, both wearing big smiles on their faces. You  recognize a young Natasha, but don’t recognize the younger blonde girl. “Yelena?” You question. Natasha had told you about her sister, but you’d never seen a picture of the girl. 
Natasha nods her head, eyes wide. “She’s in trouble y/n, I need to go to Budapest. I need to help her.” Natasha turns around, and starts putting on her shoes, while you grab a bag and put some clothes from the both of you in it. “What are you doing?” Natasha asks. “I’m grabbing some clothes.” You say with a confused look on your face, thinking it was obvious what you were doing. “I know that, I mean why are you packing your clothes?”
Once again you’re confused, “Because I’ll need clothes to wear too?” Natasha’s confusion clears as she realizes what’s going on. “Baby, you can’t go with me. I don’t know what’s out there. It’s too dangerous, I can’t risk you getting hurt.” 
“Darling, I’m coming with you, whether it’s dangerous or not. The day I married you, I promised you in my vows that I would always follow you everywhere. I intend on keeping that promise, so I’m coming with you. You don’t have to do this alone.” Natasha knows there is no use for arguing with you when you’ve already made up your mind, so she lets you continue packing. Within an hour you’ve made it to the train station, boarding the train to Budapest. 
When you got to the safe house Natasha told you to wait outside while she tried prying the lock of the door open. A voice from within the apartment was heard, “I know you’re out there.” Natasha took a big sigh, unlocking the lock and grabbing her gun. “I know you know I’m out here.” She responds, before opening the door.
It stayed quiet on the other side of the door while you waited patiently for Natasha to deem the apartment safe for you to enter. You knew it must be weird for her to see Yelena again, especially because it had been so long since they had seen each other. Natasha didn’t even know if she could trust her. You understood that, so you waited. The quietness was interrupted by the sound of things slamming into walls. Natasha was the strongest person and most skilled fighter you knew, you know she could handle herself. Nonetheless you were worried.
The sounds kept getting louder and louder. You were trying to focus on Natasha’s voice to hear if she was okay. Until you notice a red dot appear on your chest. You weren’t trained on any of this, but you knew that a red dot is most likely a sniper rifle pointing at you. Without thinking you opened the door to the safe house and walked into the room. You turn around to see Natasha and Yelena laying on the floor out of breath, with a white curtain laying around them. 
As soon as Yelena sees you in the corner of her eyes, she reaches for her gun and points it at you, “Don’t move.” She says to you, then she turns to Natasha, “You said truce, what is this?” Natasha is quick to answer. “Easy, Yelena, that’s my wife.” Yelena slowly lowers the weapon while repeating the word, “Wife?” 
You interrupt the conversation, “Yes, wife. No time for further explanation. There are snipers on the roof, one was aiming at me just a second ago out in the hall.” Natasha stands up quickly, moving in between you and the window. 
"Stay on my hip." Natasha tells you as she moves away from the window. Always standing in between you and the outside wall. The three of you move into a backroom where Yelena grabs the box of red vials and some ammo for her gun. "Come on, we can get on the roof from the window." 
As she opens the window, the front door is kicked in. "Go, I'll be right behind you." Yelena says while running back in. Natasha climbs out of the window and helps you out as well. Yelena comes running towards the window, followed by a large explosion. "The switch, good thinking." Natasha compliments her sister. 
"Where are we going?" Natasha asks. "West side, I have a motorcycle there but it won't fit us all." - "Lead the way, we'll see when we get there." Yelena starts running and Natasha nudges you to follow Yelena. She makes sure you're in between them at all times. Especially because two widows were following you. You had some distance on them, but as long as they were carrying weapons, distance didn't mean safety.
You got to the motorcycle, and there is no way it's going to fit three. Yelena grabs her gun and stops a nearby car, "Get out." She yells pointing the gun at the driver. He walks out with his hands up. Yelena gets behind the wheel but Natasha is quick to tell her to move over to the passenger seat and tells you to get in the back. 
Natasha starts driving away, but you're quickly followed by widows on motorcycles, shooting at the car. “Duck.” They say in unison as the back window is about to break. Luckily you are quick to respond and none of you get hurt. 
You're driving around like maniacs. Yelena was basically hanging out of the window and now the car was missing a door, but at least it took one of the widows out. All of a sudden the rest of the widows disappeared, which none of you saw as a good sign.
Your instincts were right. An armored car makes its way around the corner. When it starts picking up speed it just crashes right into the cars of the oncoming traffic and parked cars. And if it wasn't scary enough, the roof of the car opened and a fully armored person appeared with a bow and arrow. When you realized it wasn't just any arrow being aimed at you, but an explosive one it was already too late.
The arrow exploded and the car was pushed into the air. It rolled a couple of times before landing upside down into a train station entry. Natasha was quick to get out of the car and pulled you and Yelena out. Since Yelena had no door on her side anymore something had cut her arm open, but other than that none of you were injured. 
Natasha quickly tied a scarf around Yelena’s arm, because you had to move. There was no way this armored assassin or the widows were going to give up any time soon. Natasha led you all to a place she once hid with Clint, where you hid out as you saw them walking right past your location.
For Natasha and Yelena this was part of their jobs, so they had gotten used to the rush and adrenaline that came with being chased. That wasn't the case for you though. When you made it into the airshaft your adrenaline started slowly fading, making you realize just how crazy this was. Natasha was quick to notice your upcoming panic attack, and came to your aid quickly, she was able to help calm your breathing down before it turned into a full on attack. Once you’re fully calmed down Natasha turns to Yelena, “Who the hell was that?”
“Dreykov’s special project, they can mimic anyone they've ever seen. It’s like fighting a mirror. Dreykov only deploys them for top priority missions.” Natasha’s mind is trying to wrap around what Yelena just told her, “This doesn’t make any sense.” She says. All these years Natasha thought that she had killed Dreykov, but Yelena explained how that wasn’t the case. 
After a while the women decided the coast was clear, and left the vents of the train station to get cleaned up. The three of you ended up at a small convenience store and bought some necessities for cleaning wounds, and some painkillers, since the flipping of the car had an effect on all three of you. You took the supplies to a restaurant nearby where Natasha helped Yelena clean up the wound and they talked amongst themselves to catch up. 
“Where are you gonna go after this?” Natasha asks after learning that Yelena had been under the influence of Dreykov’s control and was just freed of it recently. “I don’t know.” Yelena answers. “I don’t really have anywhere to go back to. So, I guess anywhere” Nat puts her drink down but before she can say anything Yelena says, “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Natasha says. Yelena laughs, “Oh, you’re going to give me some big hero speech, I can feel it.” Both you and Natasha laugh at that. “Speeches aren’t really her thing.” You share with Yelena letting her in on the look shared between you and your wife. “Exactly, and it was more like an invitation.” Yelena thinks for a moment, “To go to the Red Room and kill Dreykov, even though the Red Room is impossible to find and Dreykov is too slippery to kill?” Natasha smirks before saying, “Yeah.”
“That sounds like a shitload of work.” Yelena points out. “Yup, it could be fun though.” Natasha adds and Yelena agrees. “You saw where he put the keys?” These two were truly on the same wavelength you realized as Yelena answered, “Top drawer, green cabinet.” And with that you were on the road. Natasha called Rick Mason, the contractor she regularly worked with that she needed a jet. When you arrived at the agreed location a shitty old broken down helicopter stood on the field. 
“I said we needed a jet.” Natasha says as Rick walks out of the helicopter. “Yeah and you know what you didn’t give me? Time or money. I am not made of jets.” He was funny, just like Yelena said, you could see why Nat would keep working with him. Rick showed all the supplies that Natasha asked for before Natasha turned to you. 
“Darling, I know what you said before and I very much appreciate you for sticking to the vows and following me everywhere, but this is as far as I will allow you to come along on this journey, okay? This is going to be a very dangerous mission and I am not able to keep the promise I made to you in our vows, the promise to always keep you safe. With Dreykov in the picture, I cannot risk it, which is why I asked Rick to take you to a safe house for the time being.” You told her it was okay and that you understood, you thought today had been scary enough and you were for sure not built or trained to live that kind of life. You would only hold them back, and you realized that in this situation that could cost you not only your life but also theirs. 
You hugged Natasha for a long time before letting go and walking over to Yelena. “I never expected these to be the circumstances that I would meet my sister in law, but nonetheless it was a pleasure meeting you, Yelena. Please keep her safe, I really need her to come back to me.” Yelena put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “I will.”
The two of you joined back with Nat and Rick. Before they got on the helicopter you said, “Oh, and, Yelena, you will always have a place to go to with me and Nat. We might be on the run at the moment too, but you are more than welcome to join us.” With an appreciative nod Yelena entered the helicopter and after Natasha sent you a reassuring smile she did as well. Rick led you to the car and drove you to the safe house he had arranged for you.
It had been a couple of days and you had started to settle in when you heard a knock on your door. At first it scared you, but your worries eased when you heard a familiar voice, “Baby, it’s okay, it’s me.” You practically ran to the door, opening it to see a couple more people than just Natasha. 
Natasha ushered everyone inside and hugged you tight, she was relieved to know you were okay. When she stepped back Yelena gave you a small hug too, “I promised I’d keep her safe.” She whispers in your ear. Then Natasha introduced you to the two unfamiliar faces. “Darling, these are Alexei and Melina, they are my parents. Remember the family I told you about from Ohio?” You nodded. “Alexei, Melina, this is my wife, y/n.” You held out your hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Can I get anyone something? You all look like you could use some food.” 
“That would be wonderful, sweetheart.” Melina says. “And some vodka!” Alexei adds, which makes everyone laugh. You prepare a meal for the family as you watch Natasha with them. You smile at how happy she looks, she never had any family besides the Avengers, this is what she had always wanted. And this might not be your house, but with everyone surrounding the table it felt like home.
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outro-jo · 1 year
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little things the dreamies love
pairing: nct dream x reader
type: headcanon?
warning: none? mentions of dog and anxiety
a/n: please read info before requesting
masterlist | info
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mark: when your nails are longer. now, he’s a firm believer that your beauty and hygiene routine is totally up to you but he can’t deny how much he loves longer nails. mostly bc of the lazy head or back scratches you give that practically have him purring in your lap. on days when he’s more tired or stressed, he comes home, laying his head in your lap and takes your hand to put it on his head. you get the idea pretty quickly and give the poor boy what he wants. he especially asks for scratches on nights when his mind is racing and he can’t get to sleep. in less than ten minutes he’s out like a light.
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renjun- the way you two can communicate without talking sometimes. for as long as he can remember, you two have just always been on the same wavelength. even when you were friends, it was almost like the two of you had a secret language without even saying a word. it comes in handy when you’re out and either one of your social batteries inevitably runs out. he also gets to shit talk the other members and have you laughing from all the way across the room. 
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jeno- it’s the way your head fits in the crook of his neck. his heart does somersaults literally every time. jeno first noticed it when he was playing games and you made yourself comfortable on his lap. usually you just rest your head on his shoulder but this time you laid on his chest. you were feeling a bit anxious that day and you knew the steady thud of his heartbeat would ground you. while you were trying to calm down jeno needed to see over you, so he instinctively rested his chin on your head. the second you snuggled in closer, he nearly lost in his game because he froze up for a bit. the way you fit into him was just so astronomically perfect that it was taking everything for him not to lose it. 
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haechan- donghyuk thought he was sassy… until he met you. you’re so quick and witty and it’s particularly helpful around his hyungs. being surrounded by older peers so often, donghyuk can find himself being teased. since having you around, there’s always a shot right back of friendly fire that’s so well executed that it has him and the other boys rolling in laughter every time. it becomes less fun when he’s the target though.
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jaemin- you’re always up for anything. he comes to you with the most random ideas or things to do and you’re always down. late night convenience store run? definitely. randomly rearranging the furniture? absolutely. finger painting like 5 yr olds? 1000%. you also put up with his off the wall thoughts and questions. he’s definitely the type to ask “would you still love me if i was a worm?” at 3 am and you give him an answer even when you’re half asleep. (the answer is yes btw) you never judge him or make him feel weird. nothing fazes you and that’s how he knows you’re his person. 
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chenle- deagal immediately took to you from the moment she met you. there are many times chenle has introduced people to his baby and she hasn’t taken to them. he was so relived when you two met and she hopped right into your lap. when you’re around, she follows you everywhere like a little shadow. chenle would be hurt if it wasn’t so damn cute. his heart also melts at the way you care for her like she’s your own. every special routine or the way she likes her food, anything for the princess and you do not mind at all. 
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jisung- he catches you looking at him sometimes or rather, the dreamies caught you looking at him one time. jisung was happily minding his business when you were all hanging out when he got a message in the group chat and it was a picture of you staring up at him like he was the center of the universe captioned, “damn what did our little maknae do to have them falling so hard?” the boys continued to joke around but jisung melted completely. ever since he tries to catch glimpses of you any chance he gets. 
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dilvuc · 20 days
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Is it okay for me to do another Yandere request for your event thing? If it's not, just ignore it. If it's okay, can I have Yandere gender neutral reader and Leona where the reader tries to make Leona number one at everything and then eventually kills all of his family and says, "Now you're finally have everything you wanted, my lovely king~" while holding Falena's and Cheka's heads in their hands please?
❝MY LOVELY KING❞
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𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst
𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗: gender neutral
𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖑𝖊: my lovely king
𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: leona x yandere!gn!reader
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: blood, headless, gore, sorry cheka😭
𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: if leona wants to become recognized, then…perhaps you can…get his family out of the picture
“Leona! At least let me help you with it. Maybe I can make people recognize you.” you told the lion beastman as you followed him in the hall. leona let out a soft sigh, “...I appreciate your gratitude, but…just give it up. No one will recognize my hard work. Thanks…”
you frowned as you watched leona walk away in the distance. you gritted your teeth, knowing how everyone not seeing leona as number one.
you heard cheka laughing from across the hall. he rushed past you and leaped on leona's back, making him annoyed.
if only that his family were out of the picture…
perhaps…
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nighttime hit, felena’s wife just put cheka in bed. everything would've gone peacefully, but unfortunately…cheka noticed a figure in a cloak creeping up behind his mother. before he could scream and warn his mother, the intruder swung their weapon on the back of the queen’s head, killing her instantly.
cheka stared at his dead mother with a look of pure horror. the poor child was unable to move because he's paranoid. the intruder turned their attention to the prince with a mischievous, “If I take you out of the picture, then Leona will be number one…”
“...Ojita—”
TWACK!
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a guard barged into felena's office, nearly caused him to knock over the paperwork, “Y-your majesty!”
“What is it?” felena sweatdropped as he stacked up the paperwork. the guard shuddered, “A…an assassin…murdered the queen and prince Cheka in the prince's bedroom!”
hearing the gruesome news, caused the king to drop everything from his grasp. is he hearing this correctly? an assassin just murder his wife and son? he abruptly stood up and slammed his fists on the desk, “You're lying! Tell me you're lying!”
“Unfortunately…I…”
felena rushed out of his office and rushed to cheka’s bedroom, trying to make sure that it wasn't true. he noticed some dead guards lying at the entrance of cheka’s room, without a head. feeling his heart dropped, he barged the door opened and to his horror, he saw his own son's head on the lap of the intruder.
“Cheka…” felena's eyes widened in horror. he then glared at the intruder in rage, “You! What have you done to my family?! If you kill Leona too, I'll—”
“Your majesty. I wouldn't harm my future king. I couldn't bare seeing my Leona as #2.” the intruder stated while stroking the head of cheka's hair, “He gave up trying to work hard, so I try to put matter in my own hands. By wiping you and your family out.”
“...You…How could you do this?! I'll kill you myself!” felena roared. you sigh with disappointment before standing up, “You're so annoying. How can my Leona have such a brother like yourself…? It won't take long.”
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leona returns to the castle to take a nap. though, it was odd. he doesn't see cheka or his brother running up to him. are they asleep?
“Whatever. I should take my nap. I hope that brat isn't in my room again…” leona yawned as he was about to head to his room, only to trip over something. “Oof! Ow! The hell? Did Cheka leave his toys lying around?”
the lion beastman's eyes widened when it turned out to be the head of the attendant, “What…?”
he looks ahead of him and finds a gruesome sight. there are headless guards lying around with blood splatter everywhere. that's not the worst part, their heads were all hanging on the wall.
“W…what…?” leona gasped before vomiting on the floor at the sight and smell. he coughed out, “W…w…what's going on…?”
leona’s mind turns its focus on his nephew. in panic, he rushed over to his nephew's room and barged in, “CHEKA!”
to his pure horror, he finds his headless nephew and brother lying around on the ground along with his sister-in-law, who isn't headless. leona realized that he was too late. he family…are gone…
“Who…? WHO DID THIS?!” leona roared, falling to his knees.
“Leona…” a familiar voice spoke. to leona’s relief, you were aliv— the lion beastman froze in shock when he realized his nephew and brother's heads were in your bloody hands.
“You…” leona whispered. “You did this…?”
“Yep~ I wouldn't want you to feel bad, so I got rid of everyone. They're gone now…” you beamed, playing with the heads like they're dolls.
“Now you're finally have everything you wanted, my lovely king~”
╰┈➤ author note: please note that this is a slow update. i will still accept your request, but it will take a while since i'll be working on my books on wattpad. if you wish to read those books, here's my wattpad account.
twst masterlist
rules
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resowrites · 10 months
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Suspicious Minds - oneshot.
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Summary: Henry attempts to put a cot together…
Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Wife!OC
Warnings: fluff, banter/British humour, language, dialogue heavy, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.
WC: 2099
A/N: Remember, this is pure fiction (as in completely made up), and not in any way meant to reflect reality. My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!
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Suspicious Minds - oneshot.
The noises from the nursery were growing louder and louder. Eventually, she decided she'd have to go investigate. She pushed back the door to find Henry in the middle of the room, kneeling over a booklet of instructions. Nuts, bolts, and long planks of wood were scattered everywhere. "Good God, it sounded like a gorilla enclosure in here… I'll have to put a picture of you on the wall with all the other animals—"
"I'm trying to put this sodding cot together, okay?! The instructions are a bloody nightmare…"
"Well, can I help? Surely it can't be that difficult, it's only four sides after all."
"No, it's fine. I don't want you doing any lifting—"
"Well that's not like you…" He rolled his eyes.
"Still, I'd rather we erred on the safe side." She huffed and leaned against the wall while Henry muttered to himself. "Take a seat, I want you off your feet."
"Yes, m'lord! Shall I have a kip while I'm at it?" He locked eyes with her again.
"Why, are you feeling tired? Darling you must rest—"
"Henry I was joking! Stop being such a fusspot. And hand me those instructions or they'll have left home by the time you're finished." Henry sighed but handed her them nonetheless. "Right, first thing's first, do we have all the parts?" He cast a glance around him.
"As far as I can tell—"
"Good, now do you understand that a failure to heed the warnings and follow the assembly instructions could cause serious injury and/or death?"
"Will you just get on with it?!"
"Calm your knickers! If you want I'll wait while you go look for a hard hat…" Henry harrumphed. "Okay, so first you're gunna want to attach middle rear leg E to middle panel A1…" She looked at the pieces dotted around his feet. "Those two bits there, you'll also need three fifty-five millimetre bolts—"
"Fifty-five? That can't be right…" He grabbed the booklet from her hands.
"I think you'll find it is. And don't forget the Allen key—"
"Yes, I know that! Bloody woman pointing out the obvious…" Henry mumbled under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing, love. Right, what now?" He finished tightening the last screw and awaited the next instruction.
"Okay, you need to insert three wooden dowels into those holes…" Henry looked up and eyed her suggestively. "Oh, stop it! And they need to go there, not in those ones."
"… Are you sure we aren't having sex?" She rolled her eyes.
"Right, you now need to attach slats H through four with five dowels."
"Just five?"
"Yes you gobshite, now do as you're bloody told—" He tutted.
"Fine, where do they need to be slotted?"
"Well bend over and I'll take a look—"
"Lovely, are there any more you want me to stick up there?!"
"Yeah, bars F, G, thirteen, and four need to go on the other side. Come on, shift it, I don't have all day!" Henry scrambled for the right pieces and hammered them into position. "You can also take your tank top off if you want, make things a bit more exciting…"
"I thought you weren't in the mood?"
"Well, it's hardly a turn-on having to tell you what to do—"
"Since when?! And give me that, if you can follow it it should be a piece of piss…"
"Should be but isn't." She bit back a laugh when he looked up at her annoyed.
"Christ, I don't understand any of this… why would the forty-five-millimetre bolts need to go in the back and not the longer ones?"
"Cos longer's usually better?"
"Oh just shut up and hand me six of the M6 bolts please!"
"You sure they're the right ones and not just the ones you want to use? Anyway, you're closer, I thought you didn't want me to lean down?!" Henry huffed. "Nope, those aren't the right ones…" He snapped to his feet.
"Fine! You do it Miss Smart Arse, seeing as I'm the one who apparently can't read instructions—"
"Well are you sure you're reading the English side, not the French?" Henry turned to storm off. "Whoa there Nelly, I was only joking. God, what's gotten into you? Why are you taking this so seriously?"
"Because I want to be able to do as much as I can for you both. It's bad enough I'm already forty—"
"Wait, hang on. What do you mean?" He looked down at the floor, his eyes beginning to well.
"I mean, I'll be an older dad Ollie. I won't get the same amount of time with them as you will…" She tilted her head sadly and cupped Henry's face in her hands. "Then there'll be the times I won't be here and that'll rob me of them even more."
"Oh, darling. Look… nothing in life is promised. What I do know for sure is they'll be surrounded by so much love. You're going to be a fantastic dad, Henry. There's no one else I'd rather have in your place. Well… no one I've met." They smirked at each other.
"You're right. Besides, you could always go first…" She kicked him in the shin.
"As if I'd get that lucky! Remember though, I work for myself and you also have a lot of flexibility. But either way, I'll do everything I can to make sure you get as much time with them as possible. I mean, not too much of course, that would hardly be right…" Henry smiled at her again.
"You'd really do that for me?"
"For the three of us, of course! I don't want you to miss out on them growing up either. We're a team, remember? And baby's not going to change that." He swallowed the lump in his throat.
"You make me so happy." She tutted.
"Soppy bollocks…" But they shared a kiss and Henry held her close, gazing down at the bump hitting his stomach. "I'm sorry, I was just panicking. You're showing now and it's feeling that much more real—"
"I know sweetheart, I worry about what kind of parent I'm going to be as well. But we both learned a lot from our childhoods and I'm sure we'll make the right choices." She gave him another kiss, patted his chest, and smiled. "For now though I think I’ll leave you to it, the instructions just repeat themselves for the next few pages so you should survive…" Henry gave her an anxious look.
"I'm sorry I'm not more handy, either. God, I just don't understand it… I can put a PC together but not a bloody cot!"
"Yeah, cos you're overthinking it! So long as it doesn't collapse inwardly on our child, I can't ask for anymore." He smirked and spanked her backside.
"Go on, get out of here. I'd rather go without your encouragement if that's the best you can do!" She gave Henry a wink and disappeared from the room.
***
"Knock, knock, how are you getting on?" She opened the door to find the cot almost finished. The view of their nearly complete nursery took her breath away. "Wow, I knew you could do it! And it only took the rest of the day…" He tutted as he picked up some spare screws from off the floor. "Seriously though, it looks great, how hard was it in the end?"
"Not bad actually, I mean I almost threw it out of the window at one point, but I made it work."
"Oh, I thought that was one of our neighbour's screaming 'fuck’ at the top of their lungs…" She then eyed the screws in Henry's hand. "How many of those do you have leftover exactly?"
"Not many thank you very much!"
"And they came with the cot didn’t they?"
"Well, where else would they have come from?!"
"Your head maybe?"
"Hysterical. Why don't you come and inspect my handy work if you're that concerned?!" She stepped up to the cot and jiggled several of the bars.
"Mmm, not too far apart, that's good. At least they won't get stuck." He rolled his eyes. "Not sure those drawers are plumb though…"
"What do you mean?! They're dead straight!" But she was too busy testing out one of the dropsides. As soon as she lifted it, it whooshed back into place with a sickening clank.
"Jesus Christ, that could take someone's head off!"
"Well, I followed the pissing instructions! What more can I do?!"
"Build a bloody cot, not a guillotine!" Henry sighed and referred back to the booklet.
"Ah, I see. I haven't lined up these two casings correctly…"
"Well I hope that's the extent of the snags, I'm scared to touch the sodding thing now…" He pursed his lips and before she knew it, she was quickly whipped into the cot.
"There, see! Sound as anything! If it can take you it can take any baby—"
"Henry, will you get me out of here, please?! This whole thing's gunna collapse!"
"Oh shush and go to sleep, or do you need burping?"
"HENRY!!!"
"Alright, alright." He carefully lifted her out and she thwacked his arm the minute her feet hit the ground. "Ow! What was that for?!"
"You know what for, I can't get up as easily anymore!" She pointed at her bump.
"Oh please, you struggled to do that anyway," another thwack landed on Henry's arm.
"Just for that, you're not getting the snack I bought up here."
"What do you mean? What snack?" He sighed and picked up his screwdriver when she walked off. She returned moments later, however, holding a plate piled high with thickly cut sandwiches. Henry's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Other than terrorising your pregnant wife and building a death trap, you've done a wonderful job. I'm so proud of you darling and I can't thank you enough, the nursery looks amazing. I can't believe it's finished, are you excited? Before we know it we'll have a little one rolling around in there!" She pointed eagerly toward the tiny mattress.
"I know, the last few months really have flown by. It's going to be so weird having another person in the house!"
"You're telling me, you won't be the loudest, stinkiest one here anymore—" she stopped mid-sentence. "Wait a minute. Is it me, or is the whole thing on the conk?" He quickly stepped into her line of sight.
"Nah, that's just a trick of the light. Well, thanks for the sarnies, you best be getting on—"
"So it is bloody wonky?! I knew it! Did you not put the feet on?" She squatted low to examine the floor.
"Uh-uh, no you don't. Come on, get up please, you know I don't want you in that position—"
"Since when?" Henry rolled his eyes.
"Alright I confess, I haven't attached all the feet just yet as the whole thing was getting a bit heavy—"
"Well let me help--"
"No fucking fear!"
"Oh, Henry I'm not stupid!"
"Well, you could have fooled me! Remember that spice rack you tried to put up? Ten minutes afterward it crash-landed on the oven—"
"Yeah, cos you gave me shit screws - there and elsewhere!" His mouth fell open.
"Well I won't even dignify that with a response—"
"Yeah, cos you don't have one." Henry looked up at the ceiling and tried not to laugh.
"Darling, you can mouth off all you like, this is my job and I'm going to finish it. Now off you fuck."
"Well, what choice do I have…"
"Ollie, will you please just piss off?!"
"Fine! When you're done stuffing your face, come hop in the shower with me…"
"God bless those pregnancy hormones—"
"Oh please! You're just all sweaty, you'll stink up the bed later—"
"Sure. I'm thirsty as well, ya didn't by any chance happen to bring up a lager?" She smiled knowingly and handed him a tall tin can from the pocket of her jumper.
"Trust you to sniff that out. Oh and keep that Allen key handy as well, you can bleed all the radiators once you're finished."
"God, you'll work me to bloody death at this rate!"
"Henry, you've got off easy. You're not the one having to carry another person around, have them squish your organs, go into labour, give birth—"
"No, but I'm still having to hear all about it!" Her eyebrows hit the ceiling. "I'm kidding, if you're that helpless, go get all soaped up and I'll be in to scrub your back…" Henry spanked her backside once more and she walked off holding up her middle finger.
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withacapitalp · 1 year
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How to Rehabilitate a Jock Pt 5
Part One Part Four Ao3 link Part 6
Reminder I'm not accepting anyone new on my tag list! Sorry if you want updates follow me here or subscribe on ao3! Also some warnings for Steve having PTSD and dyslexia in this fic. These two are going to start coming up more often but they begin here. Storytime!!
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Typically, a character starts at 1st level and advances in level in the adventuring world, although he or she might have been a soldier or a pirate and done dangerous things before.
Steve blew all of his breath out in an irritated sigh, balancing his forehead against his left palm and leaning impossibly closer to the book in front of him, willing the words to make sense. He put his right index finger underneath the line he was trying to read, using the trick his Seventh Grade English teacher had shown him. 
Tyqically, a character stars at 1st level and advantages in level by abvemturing and morbid, although he or she might have been a sober or a gyrate and done dangerous thinps before.
He squeezed his eyes shut, resisting the urge to just grab the book and throw it against the wall. The sentences were starting to float around the page like driftwood, the letters choosing to make whatever damn words they pleased, and Steve was left drowning in the ocean without a tether as per usual.  
Why did it matter if the characters were sober or gyrating? Did every character swear to be virtuous or some shit? That seemed like the kind of thing a stupid nerd game would come up with. 
No, he probably just had it wrong. Steve just needed to read it again, but the thought of looking at the same paragraph he had been struggling with for the last fifteen minutes made him want to throw up. 
When Eddie had given him the book last week, Steve had just thanked him and put it in his bag with no intention of reading it. But, Hellfire was at the end of the week, and he had said he would have a character to show them. He was determined to do just that, show them that he was taking this all seriously, but he couldn’t make a character until he understood what the game was. 
And, apparently, he had to read to do that. Eddie had said he wouldn’t just hand everything to Steve on a silver platter.  
You have to earn it. That was what Eddie had said as he gave Steve the book. He was going to have to earn this. So he had tried. He had been trying for five days now, and he was only on page eight. 
Eight. Eight of like three hundred. 
Steve was starting to think that maybe Hellfire wasn’t worth all the headaches he was getting trying to read this stupid book. 
“Hey, Steve!” 
Steve slammed the book shut as soon as he heard Nancy’s voice from behind him, scrambling to hide it under his other textbooks and act nonchalant as she and Jonathan came around the corner of the table and stood opposite him. 
“How’s uh- how’s it going?” Jonathan asked, looking everywhere but directly at him. 
Jonathan’s hands were fidgeting at his sides, his fingers twitching like he kept wanting to take Nancy’s hand, but kept stopping himself just before he could. Nancy was staring directly at him with the firm sort of determination she always had, her shoulders back, her head high. Steve resisted the urge to sigh. 
“I’m fine,” He said, keeping his voice low and casual, “How’re you guys?”
“Good,” Nancy said, answering for both of them. She took the seat opposite of Steve without asking, pulling out the chair next to her so Jonathan could sit as well. She was still looking right at Steve with fire burning in her eyes, daring him to say something. 
Let it be known, Nancy Wheeler was never going to back down from a challenge. She was strong as a lioness, as stubborn as a mule, and probably the most amazing woman Steve had ever met. Joyce Byers, Max Mayfield, and El Hopper were all extremely close seconds. 
But he couldn’t really picture any of them doing what Nancy was so set on doing. 
Somewhere during that last god awful night, Nancy had decided that the three of them were going to be friends. There had been a Steve and Nancy, a Nancy and Jonathan, but never a Steve and Nancy and Jonathan, and she was hell bent on seeing it happen. 
And to make it happen, she continued to insert both of them into Steve’s life whenever she could. 
Walking to shared classes, forcing him to come upstairs to say hi and chat for awhile when he came to get the kids from her house, and, of course, random library meetups like this one. After so many of these little check-ins, so many stilted conversations with the former love of his life and the guy she had left him for, it really shouldn’t be too awkward anymore. 
It was still awkward. 
“You’re spending a lot of time with the kids,” Nancy finally said after she couldn’t stand another second of uncomfortable silence. 
The kids were an easy topic. They were something all three of them had in common. Steve could talk about them. 
“They’re spending a lot of time with me,” He amended, trying to give her a smile. He could try for Nancy. It was the least he could do, “They just show up at my house whenever they want to and hang around my car until I agree to drive them places.”
“Sounds like them,” Jonathan murmured, and Steve huffed out a soft chuckle. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, Jonathan could be pretty funny.
“If they’re getting annoying I can tell Mike to back off,” Nancy offered, missing the point. 
“No! No it’s fine,” Steve said quickly, trying to ignore the way his heart was suddenly racing. 
His mind flooded with a thousand and one things that could happen if he wasn’t around, all the possibilities, all the ways that his kids could get themselves into trouble. He knew that they were smart, and capable, and resourceful, but they were also twelve. Twelve year olds who had fought against hell. Twelve year olds that needed deserved to have someone to protect them for once. 
And Steve needed the kids too if he could be painfully honest with himself. 
“It’s nice, actually. Fills up the time, and better than them just being left alone to get into trouble,” Steve said with a nervous little laugh, forcing his face to stay easy and even. If he acted too weird about this, then Nancy would poke and prod until she found everything out, and Steve couldn’t deal with that right now. 
It was hard enough to breathe as it was. 
Nancy was giving him a searching look, pinning him down onto a corkboard and examining what she found there. He had already lost her, if he had ever had anything to actually lose, and now the thought of losing the kids because of her was making his stomach twist up in knots. 
It wasn’t a fair thought, probably wasn’t even an accurate one, but Steve couldn’t make it go away. 
“They are little trouble magnets,” Jonathan tacked on, clearly not understanding what was happening between the two of them, “But you seem to have them well handled.”
Something about what Jonathan said made Stvee’s breath come a little easier, and he forced his shoulders to relax. No one was taking the kids away from him. No one was doing anything. 
Steve was just overreacting like he always seemed to do these days. 
“Yeah,” Steve responded, just so the ball was out of his court again. He couldn’t stand needing to be the one to say the next thing to cut through the silence. 
Unexpectedly, it wasn’t Nancy or Jonathan that took that next step. 
It was Eddie. 
“Yo, Harrington!” 
Every head in the library shot up, except Steve’s. He cringed, ducking his head low and trying to avoid the stares that were starting to come towards him. Eddie, who never really seemed to care who was looking and who wasn’t, continued to wave at him with big over the top gestures, trying to coax Steve over to his table. 
“Is that Eddie Munson?” Nancy asked, perplexed.
Steve very quickly saw the out that had been offered and grabbed it with both hands. He stood up and began to stuff his papers and books into his backpack. 
“Yeah, that’s Eddie. I better go see what he wants, but I’ll see you guys around, yeah?” He said, sliding around the table and giving them a wave, rushing away before Nancy could ask any of the other questions starting to form. 
Eddie settled down when he saw Steve coming his way. He was alone at his table, completely surrounded by scraps of paper and open books. He loomed over them all, trying valiantly to make a tiny space for Steve to put his bag as he took the only free seat. 
“What’s up?” Steve asked, not exactly sure why Eddie wanted his company. 
“Nothing,” Eddie immediately replied, waiting a second and clearly enjoying the look of confusion Steve gave him before continuing, “Just thought I’d save you from that,”
He looked past Steve, and when Steve turned around, Nancy and Jonathan were openly staring at the two of them. Well, half of the library was openly staring, but whatever. Steve couldn’t care anymore. 
“My hero,” He said sarcastically, turning back in his seat and resting his chin on top of his backpack. 
“Why were they bothering you?” Eddie asked, futzing with his papers. 
“They weren’t, just sitting,” Steve said, not quite on the defensive yet, but still feeling that urge to protect starting to hum in the back of his mind. 
He had heard some of the things people were saying about the whole situation, and he hated the thought of Nancy or Jonathan catching heat. They hadn’t done anything wrong, at least, nothing that bad. They shouldn't have to deal with defending themselves right at the start of their relationship. It wasn’t really their fault that it just happened to come at the death of Steve’s. 
“That’s weird,” Eddie stated, unintentionally treading right into dangerous territory, “I mean, it’s not like you guys are friends,”
“We are,” Steve protested automatically. Eddie raised a brow, and he faltered, trying to find the right words, “Well- I mean…”
Were they? 
They didn’t really have all that much in common, and every single time they spoke it was clear all three of them weren’t really ready to be close, but Steve still considered them friends. 
At the very least, Nancy and Jonathan were incredibly important people in his life, even if they weren't necessarily his friends. There were a few things that permanently bonded people, and killing an actual real life demon was one of those things. 
But he couldn’t tell Eddie any of that. 
“It’s complicated,” Steve settled on, hating how cliche that sounded. Eddie’s brow furrowed and he rubbed his thumb across his lower lip as he thought about what he wanted to say next. 
It was honestly kind of cute. 
“Nancy cheated on you,” Eddie stated bluntly. 
Less cute now. 
Steve flinched back, unable to help his first reaction. Cheating was such a harsh word, burning and bloody. It evoked images of The Hawk, and spray paint staining his fingers for months on end. He had promised himself he would never accuse anyone of it ever again unless he absolutely 100% knew for sure that it had happened. 
Except, in this case, he did. Jonathan had told him, clearly scared out of his mind, but he had still manned up and told him. They had slept together when they were at that dude’s house, the one who helped Nancy get justice for Barb. Steve had listened, put the information in a little box in his mind, and put the box on a shelf. 
Because that’s what Steve did. He just pretended he was okay no matter what, because he didn’t know any other way to be. He pretended like the sight of his pool didn’t make him nauseous, and he pretended like they hadn’t all almost died, and he pretended like he didn’t wake up gasping for air at least twice a week. 
Steve pretended, because he didn’t know how to live with everything that had happened. But Nancy did, and Jonathan did, and the issue here was obviously Steve, not them. He had pretended Nancy right into Jonathan’s arms, and he had no one to blame for that except himself. 
So, was it really cheating when it was Steve’s fault that it happened? 
Nancy was right. He was really just…bullshit. 
And yet, all of that also fell into the category of ‘Things Steve Wasn’t Legally Allowed to Tell Eddie’. He just had to go for the bullshit pretending answer. 
“Yeah. She cheated on me.” 
“That doesn’t sound too complicated,” Eddie said with a shrug and Steve leaned back in his chair, staring down at his hands which were fisted up in his khakis. 
“Well it is,” Steve replied moodily, “It’s really fucking complicated, and I really don’t want to talk about it,” 
“But she hurt you,” Eddie said, still using that stupid statement voice. 
“Yeah, she hurt me, but I love her so-” Steve cut himself off, biting his tongue harshly. Yeah, he still loved her, but admitting that was fucking pathetic. 
And yet, Steve was pretty sure a part of him was going to love Nancy Wheeler for the rest of his life. 
“So that makes it okay?” Eddie asked, and Steve sighed, exhausted with the conversation. 
“It means I can forgive her,” He said softly, trying to will his heart to stop aching, “It means I still want her in my life. Jonathan too. We’ve gone through stuff together. It’d be weird if we didn’t become friends after everything that’s happened,” 
That was still probably too much to say, but Steve almost felt like he owed Eddie that much. The guy had done nothing but try to help, try to be supportive; he wanted to give him some kind of explanation for why he was continuing to torture himself with the sight of his ex and Jonathan. 
Eddie still seemed pretty confused, and Steve doubted he even half understood, but his eyes had softened up, looking at Steve in a way that made his stomach feel funny. Not in the same way it had before with Nancy, just…funny. 
“You’re a strange creature, Steve Harrington,” Eddie finally said, giving Steve a slow sweet smile. Steve shook his head, shooting Eddie a wry grin. 
“And you, Eddie Munson, are a nosy jackass,” He snarked. Eddie laughed, too loud for the quiet library. Everything about Eddie was too much, always. He stood out from the crowd- no he didn’t just stand out, he forced himself out. Everyone had to notice him, everyone had to see. Steve, who had always done everything he could to blend in, to become one of the popular crowd, it was thrilling. 
“Too true my liege,” Eddie said, inclining his head ever so slightly, “How’s your character coming?”
Steve rolled his eyes, digging around in his bag to grab the offending enemy, waving it around his head. 
“Well, if I could stop wanting to hurl this book into the Quarry, I think I would be making progress,” 
“What did the player handbook ever do to you?” Eddie gasped in mock horror, reaching up to pluck the book from Steve’s grasp and hold it protectively against his chest. Steve, already used to Eddie’s theatrics from their few interactions, just scowled and crossed his arms. 
“It’s long, overly complicated, and the letters keep jumping around,” He griped.
Eddie slid out of the persona he had created as quickly as he had come into it, cocking his head to the side and making those bambi eyes somehow even bigger.
“Jumping around?” Eddie questioned. 
“Yeah, but that one is really kind of an every book situation. I’m not big on reading. School’s just not my thing. Give me a ball or a kid to wrangle, that’s where I shine,” Steve said in a joking tone, trying to steer the conversation to other places. If he could get Eddie on a rant about basketball, or teasing him for babysitting, then they wouldn’t have to talk about his difficulties with reading. 
And Steve really did not want to talk about his difficulties with reading. 
It wasn’t exactly like he was ashamed of not really being able to read, except he really fucking was. What kind of person got to their senior year of high school and still couldn’t manage to read more than a page without wanting to give up? What kind of person still couldn’t manage to spell a single full sentence correctly at almost eighteen? 
An idiot. That’s who. 
But, if Eddie hadn’t already realized how much of a numbskull Steve was, then he wasn’t all that anxious to show his new friend. Everyone in Eddie’s circle was just like his kids, wicked smart and unafraid to flaunt it. If Eddie figured out just how much Steve really didn’t belong with them, he might change his mind about having Steve around. 
No, on the whole, it was just better to derail the conversation. But Eddie didn’t seem to want to be derailed. 
“What page are you on?” He asked Steve, his face frustratingly neutral. 
Steve bit the tip of his tongue, contemplating just how far he might get in a lie. Would fifty pages be too obvious? Maybe he could say twenty five, and try to get Eddie on a rambling tangent before he began quizzing Steve on statistics. But as Steve went to open his mouth to try and spin a story that might work, Eddie held up a hand, cutting him off. 
“Hey, I don’t judge. I just failed an essay because apparently Star Wars isn’t ‘an appropriate choice for analyzing the Hero’s Journey’,” Eddie said in a mocking false voice, handing the essay over as evidence.
A big fat ‘F’ sat at the top of the paper, circled in red. Steve’s brow furrowed, and he put it down, grabbing his own essay out of his bag. He and Eddie weren’t in the same class, but they did have the same teacher. 
She had given Steve a ‘C’, and Steve’s essay was only two pages to Eddie’s five. 
“Wait, do you mean the big wheel thing?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded, his mouth screwed up into a frustrated pout. Steve picked up his notebook and flipped to a clean page, drawing out a circle. 
“But it works perfectly, why would she tell you it didn’t?” Steve made a mark at the top of the circle, “Leia’s hologram is Luke’s call to action, the force is his supernatural thing, his inciting incident is his aunt and uncle being killed, Obi Wan is the mentor, the robots are the helpers, and then Han is too. And Chewie! Obi Wan dying is the abyss, and then Luke transforms at the death star, becomes a jedi, and saves the galaxy.”
Steve continued to make little doodles along the edges of the wheel, muttering to himself. It was a really good example actually, and he was kind of jealous. He had just used The Odyssey like their teacher had suggested, but Star Wars was a way cooler option. 
Why had she failed Eddie? At the very least he should have gotten a ‘C’ like Steve did. Even if she didn’t like what he had written, he had put in way more effort than Steve had. 
Then, he noticed how quiet the table had gotten. He looked up briefly, and Eddie was looking at him, his jaw dropped, eyes wide in a whole different way. 
“What?” He asked, unsure of why exactly Eddie was just staring at him. 
“Steve, how is it possible that you just perfectly outlined the hero’s journey, but school ‘isn’t’ your thing?”
He squirmed in his seat, instantly uncomfortable. His parents liked to say things like that- he was smart, but he was just lazy. If he tried, then he would get better grades. 
Steve would be at a dinner or some other stupid social function that he was dragged to and say something that was apparently impressively insightful, which should have been the right thing to do. 
It never was. 
Instead of praising him, his parents would always shake their heads, look at their friends, and sigh that if Steve just applied himself, he would do better. That they had done their best, and clearly he had the ability, he just lacked work ethic. 
It didn’t matter how many times Steve attempted to explain that he was trying, that he stayed up all night sometimes, just trying and trying and trying. They didn’t care. 
Eddie didn’t seem to mean it the same way as they usually did, but it was close enough to make Steve want to curl up in a ball and disappear. 
“This is a picture. Pictures don’t move,” Steve said, mentally praying for the bell to ring, but knowing it wasn’t going to. They still had at least a half hour left in the period. Plenty of time for Eddie to ‘try and help’ which would probably just end with Steve being even more humiliated than he already was. 
“What if I read it out loud to you?” Eddie offered.
It was a genuine offer, Steve could tell that it was. It was sweet, and it was kind, and Steve could never accept it. 
“You don’t have to,” Steve protested, ignoring the part of his mind that thought it might be nice to get to listen to Eddie talk. He was a gifted storyteller, and Steve was always greedy for stories, even though they were so inaccessible to him. 
Still, he wasn’t some toddler sitting on his mother’s lap, and Eddie wasn’t holding a picture book. 
“I just want to get what I need to make a character, that’s all,” Steve said. He just wanted to be able to do enough that he would get by fairly okay during the next Hellfire meeting. He just wanted to be able to prove that he did want to join them. 
“Then, I’ll read the parts you need for that, and I’ll help you fill in whatever gaps,” Eddie amended, reaching out yet again. He even physically reached this time, leaning over the table and squeezing Steve’s wrist once before settling back. 
Steve opened his mouth to agree, to just say yes, but his voice was failing him. The words were stuck in his throat, and no matter how hard he tried to force them out, they just wouldn’t budge. 
“Sweetheart, I’m a super senior,” He pointed out with a little self-deprecating laugh, “I’m in no position to judge. And, even if I was, I wouldn’t.” 
There it was again. 
Sweetheart. 
Eddie had called him that after Hellfire, and Steve had brushed it off, considering it a fluke or a slip of the tongue. Given the deer in headlights look he had given Steve the second he said it, that wasn’t a bad call. 
This clearly was not the same. Eddie had meant to call him ‘Sweetheart’ this time, knowing that Steve wasn’t necessarily going to mind it. He chewed on his lip, worrying it between his teeth as he tried to figure out why exactly he didn’t mind Eddie calling him a pet name. 
It was the kind of thing Steve usually used for girls he was trying to woo, the kind of thing a guy would say to a girl. He had never heard a guy call another guy ‘Sweetheart’ before, but no matter how hard he searched, Steve couldn’t find a single part of himself that minded. Sure, he was confused by it, but it wasn’t upsetting or anything. 
Just weird. 
Not even weird in a bad way, and wasn’t that a head trip? 
Fuck it. He already had enough on his plate as it was. Steve didn’t have the time or the energy to try and figure that one out. 
He got up from his chair and came around to the other side, sitting on Eddie’s left the way he had during the Hellfire meeting the week before. Eddie beamed, settling down and putting the book on the table between them both. Steve didn’t need to say yes, Eddie just knew, and for that he was grateful. He was already struggling enough as it was. 
“What page?” Eddie asked again, dipping his voice low and letting it melt the icy walls that Steve always kept around him. 
“Eight,” He said, pausing to gauge Eddie’s reaction. 
There was none. No snort of derision, no sigh, no head shake. Eddie just nodded, flipping to the right page. Steve let out a soft breath, forcing his body to relax. 
It was Eddie. He wouldn’t judge. 
“I was on the part talking about levels,” Steve added, taking the risk to lean in and let their arms brush up against each other. Eddie stilled for all of two seconds before going back to totally nonchalant. 
“Perfect. I could use a refresher anyway.” Eddie said, rolling his neck and shoulders to stretch quickly before clearing his throat in an over dramatic fashion, just to make Steve laugh. 
There it was again. The weird feeling in his stomach.
Steve ignored it. He ignored their arms, ignored ‘Sweetheart’, ignored his ex and everything that came with her, and even ignored the very world around them. None of it mattered, not right now. He pushed all thoughts away, letting himself get lost in Eddie’s voice and the universe he created with it.  
“Typically, a character starts at 1st level and advances in level by adventuring and gaining experience points (XP). A 1st-level character is inexperienced in the adventuring world, although he or she might have been a soldier or a pirate and done dangerous things before….”
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atths--twice · 23 days
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Saw this picture on Twitter and my mind immediately goes to a story idea. A little “what if” type thing…
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“It’s a great opportunity,” William said, downing the last of his Coke as they finished their meal. “I wanted Skinner here too, to thank him for helping me get the job, but he said he had too many meetings today.”
“More like he was worried he’d go to red from your words of appreciation,” Mulder said, catching Scully’s eye and smirking.
“I’m sure both are true,” she said, rubbing William’s back gently. “We’ll have him over for dinner and then he can’t run away so easily.”
“That’s a good idea,” William laughed, wiping his mouth on his napkin. “I’ll write down bullet points and put them on notecards to see his face when I pull them out.”
“That’s my boy,” Mulder said, snapping his fingers and pointing at William as Scully laughed and patted William’s back before moving her hand.
“And lunch is on me,” William said, taking the bill from the waiter. “My thanks for putting up with me being back home for the past few months with no job in sight.”
“We’ve loved having you home,” Scully insisted, staring at him with a slight frown.
“Even with the dirty mugs and plates and socks left everywhere?” he asked with a smile, taking out his wallet and counting out the cash.
“Hey, I’ve lived with your father for almost thirty years and raised you, I’m used to the mess that goes with it,” she said, bumping his shoulder gently.
“Yeah,” he agreed, bumping her shoulder back. “But I still want to say thanks.”
“You’re welcome, Lum,” she said, using the name he had called himself when he was younger as William had been too difficult to say.
“Alright,” he said, closing the bill book and leaving it on the table. “Gotta get back to it.” He smiled at both of them and they stood up, leaving their napkins on their plates.
“Hold on,” Mulder said as they reached the lobby of the restaurant. “I know you don’t want us to make a scene or follow you to work, but how about a first day picture here? Like we used to do when you started school?”
“Dad,” William said, looking around as he adjusted his suit jacket.
“Amuse your old dad. Come on. One picture.” He took his phone out and motioned for him to stand still. William rolled his eyes, looking so much like Scully, they both laughed quietly.
Mulder snapped the picture in front of the sunset mural on the wall, William unable to hold back a smile, his eyes happy and shining.
“Okay, you’re free to go now,” Mulder said, smiling at the picture.
“Thanks, Dad,” William said with a nod. “Bye, Mom.” He stepped closer to Scully and bent his head to kiss her cheek. “Love you.”
“Love you too, honey,” she said, pulling him close for a hug. “Have a good day. I’ll set up the dinner with Skinner.”
“I’ll work on the notecards,” he said and she chuckled. He smiled as he stepped back. Looking at Mulder, he gave him a high five and then a hug. “Talk to you later, Dad.”
“Yeah,” Mulder said with a nod. “Later.”
William waved at them and then walked out the door, his step light and quick.
Mulder and Scully were quiet for a few seconds and then he sighed as he looked at her. She turned her head and he smiled softly.
A waitress walked by them, smiling as she nodded.
“I hope you enjoyed your meal,” she said.
“We did,” Mulder said, nodding back at her. “I’m sorry to trouble you, but would you mind taking a picture of us?”
“Oh not at all,” she said, stepping closer and smiling at them.
“Great,” Mulder said, handing her his phone.
“What?” Scully asked as he put his arm around her, his thumb rubbing her back gently.
“One, two, three,” the waitress said and then the sound of the shutter clicking could be heard. “There you go.” She handed his phone back and he took it with a smile.
“Thank you.”
“Yup,” she said, walking away and leaving them alone.
“Why a picture of us?” Scully asked, watching him smile at his phone.
“Because it’s a first day for us as well, Scully,” he said, raising his head and looking at her. “It’s our son’s first day at work. At a job he wanted, is more than qualified for, and will love to go to every day. We made him. We raised him. It’s our day too.”
“Mulder,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“I’m so proud of him,” Mulder whispered as he rubbed her back. “So very proud.”
“Me too,” she whispered back, closing her eyes as she let out a deep contented breath. “Me too.”
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the-guilty-writer · 1 year
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Exist
Request from anon: Ok so here goes - feel free to ignore because this is a strange request.
Emily Prentiss/ sister reader- when she “dies”. Reader was closest to Spencer but can’t bare to have anything that reminds her of her sister.
She goes off grid and doesn’t find out that Emily is alive until a whole while later.
(You can change the ending if u want)
Emily Prentiss x sister!reader, Spencer Reid x platonic!reader
Summary: After Emily’s death, you take an undercover job with Interpol. When your assignment is over you come back to an intense surprise.
A/N: Thanks for this request! I hope you like it! All feedback is appreciated.
CW: Spoilers for season 6 and 7, fake deaths, one mention of periods, spencer being abandoned by someone he cares about
---
She never made it off the table.
The phrase was only seven words and nine syllables, but it changed your entire world.
Emily was older than you by three years, but that didn’t stop the two of you from being close. Your family moved around so much when you were growing up it was impossible to keep friends and your parents were always busy with work. Your sister was the person who held your hand on the first day of kindergarten, and taught you how to use period products, and helped you through your first heartbreak. Emily was the only constant in your life- the person who was always there.
And now she wasn’t. She never would be again.
---
Cleaning out your sister’s apartment was Hell on earth. You gave Sergio to Garcia, but part of you just wanted every other thing that had belonged to Emily to be burned so you wouldn’t have to touch it, or see it, or think about it. Your brain knew that it wouldn’t change anything- that the hurt would always be there- but your heart thought that if you turned everything your sister owned to ashes you could let them drift away in the wind as if they never existed in the first place.
Continuing to work at the BAU didn’t make it any easier. Every inch of the place was covered with memories of your sister; from the desk she used to sit at, to the mugs she drank her coffee out of, to the printer she could never get to work right. you saw your sister everywhere.
You couldn’t even look at your coworkers anymore.
You couldn’t look at Derek because every time you just remembered the inside joke he shared with you and your sister. You couldn’t look at Penelope because you could only think of that time at the bar with “Brad the real FBI agent”. You couldn’t look at Hotch because you could only hear him saying that he wished he and Sean could get along like you and Emily. You couldn’t look at Rossi because it only reminded you that he was the only other person you could converse in Italian with now. You couldn’t look at Spencer because he was your only best friend now that your sister was gone.
You couldn’t do your job anymore. You couldn’t be here. You bypassed Hotch and went straight to Strauss with your letter of immediate resignation. You would have almost gotten away with disappearing into thin air if Penelope wasn’t so good at her job.
“(Y/N).” Reid called from the other side of your apartment door. Of course the team sent Spencer to try to convince you to stay- who else would it be? “(Y/N), please let me in.”
You begrudgingly opened the door and let him inside, not bothering to greet him. Everything you owned was already packed in boxes, ready to be put in storage. The only things you were taking with you was what could fit in your suitcase.
“Were you really going to leave without saying goodbye?” Spencer asked. You followed his gaze as he looked around the apartment. The furniture was still in its place, but the shelf that once held books was empty. The pictures on the walls had been taken down. Every trace that this was the place you lived was gone.
“Yeah,” you admitted. “I kinda was.”
“Why?” Spencer’s voice cracked and his eyes were large. “We’re your family. You can’t just go away.”
Thus far you had held off on crying- even at your sister’s funeral you had refused to shed tears- but now they were streaming down your face and you were unable to stop them. “I can’t stay here, Spencer.” Your voice was no louder than a whisper. “I don’t know how to exist in a world without my sister.”
“So you just aren’t going to exist anymore?” Spencer asked, as if it was an impossible feat.
“Yeah,” you said. “Interpol’s pretty good at making people not exist.”
“Where are you going?” His eyes got wide with worry.
“Spencer, you know I can’t tell you that.”
“We just lost Emily. We can’t-” he took a deep breath. “I can’t lose you too.”
But your mind was already made up. You pulled Spencer into a hug and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. It was wet with his tears. Letting go and looking into his soft hazel eyes, you knew the words you would leave him with: “You can’t lose what never existed.”
A year and a half later…
Of all places to choose, Russia had been a good one- you never lived there as a kid, but spoke enough of the language to get by at first and now that you had spent two years in the middle of only-god-knows-where, Russia you were fluent in the language. Most of all, there was nothing to remind you of your sister. For two blissful years you lived as someone entirely different- someone who wasn’t (Y/N) Prentiss- but all good things have to come to an end.
You stepped into Interpol headquarters in France and expected to feel your sister’s spirit lurking in the room, but after two years the ghost caused by grief had dissipated. Even as you made your way through the building, a place you and Emily had walked side-by-side in more times than you could count, you didn’t feel like there was someone absent.
“Agent Prentiss,” the name didn’t sting anymore when someone spoke it, “you did a fantastic job. It’s not easy to go somewhere that remote for such long periods of time.”
“If I’m being honest I think the remoteness is what made it easier.” Because there was nothing to remind me that Emily is gone.
“Well, you’ve done this in the past so I won’t bore you with the details for too long. Protocol for coming off such a long assignment requires you to take at least three months off, paid of course, and we recommend that you go somewhere that will help you become steady in your identity again,” the director said. “I know you have lived the longest in DC so-”
“I was thinking Italy, actually,” you said.
The director was about to open his mouth to say something when there was a knock on his office door. Without bothering to wait to see if they could come in, the person waltzed over to the director, handed him a manila folder, and waltzed out like they owned the place. The director looked down at the folder with so much dread you thought he might vomit all over his desk.
“Sir,” you started politely. “What is in the folder?”
He looked up at you. His eyes darkened in a way you had only seen at funerals- it was the look in the eyes of the partner of the dead agent- but there was a pity with it too. It was a combination you had never seen before, and you weren’t sure what to do with it, how it should make you feel.
“We’re sending you to London,” he said slowly.
“I’ve never lived in London-”
“We’re sending you to London,” he said again. This time it was louder and slower. “Because Emily is moving there. She is alive.”
---
The rest of the conversation was a blur, but you caught all the important parts: your sister was alive. Her death was only set up to keep her safe from Doyle. Doyle was dead. Emily was alive.
Emily had faked her death for six months.
Emily had known you went underground in Russia.
Emily had come out of hiding and worked with the BAU for a year.
Emily was alive.
And nobody told you.
For a whole year, Emily had been able to tell people she was alive and healthy and well and no one even bothered to try to let you know. None of the handlers said anything. No one mentioned it in clandestine letters. No one told you.
But for a year and a half, (Y/N) Prentiss didn’t exist. When you had gone undercover, Interpol made you disappear into thin air- all electronic history erased, your bank accounts liquidated to cash and vaulted away, even your birth certificate, which you were holding now, was locked in a safe. You had become as much of a ghost as she had.
The car stopped quickly in front of the London Interpol building, jerking you back to the present. For a moment you wondered if this was real- if you were seriously about to walk into the building and see your sister alive. Maybe it was all just a dream- her death, you leaving, her being alive, you finding out. Maybe you would wake up in your apartment back in DC just to find out that none of this was ever real.
But then you saw her- her dark eyes and raven hair. You felt her arms around you- the ones that held you as a child and hugged you as an adult. You heard her voice.
“I’m sorry.”
And you should have been mad. Hell, you should have been furious. Emily had been alive for a whole year and she never tried to reach out. She never bothered to let you know that the pain you carried and worked through and accepted didn’t need to exist at all. But the relief you felt, seeing her in the flesh canceled out every negative emotion you could have felt.
“I’m just glad you’re really here,” you told her.
Emily smiled just a little bit- that sly and knowing smile you had grown to know meant she knew something you didn’t.
“There is someone who is glad you’re here.” She gestured for you to turn around and when you did, Spencer was standing there.
His hair had gotten longer, but otherwise he was almost exactly the same- tall, lanky frame clothed in slacks and a cardigan, chocolate curls that were ever-so-slightly unruly, and wide hazel eyes that looked through you as if he could read your mind.
You launched yourself at him, pulling him into a hug. He gripped you back, tighter than he ever had before. You felt him press his head into your shoulder. His breathing was heavy in your ear. 
“(Y/N),” he whispered, just loud enough that you could hear.
“Spence.” You pulled him tighter. “I’m sorry.”
Spencer pulled away and looked at you the same way you had when you told him you were leaving.
“I wanted to tell you about Emily,” he started. “I couldn’t find any way to send things to you and Garcia tried to find you but she couldn’t and-”
“It’s okay, Spencer,” you told him. “I know you would have told me if you could have.”
He pulled you into another hug, this one more gentle than the last. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pressed his head into your shoulder again. Behind Spencer, you could see Emily smiling softly at the two of you.
It felt impossible- having your two best friends in one room again- but it felt whole and it felt right.
Once again, you could exist.
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agirlcandream84 · 2 years
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Garden of Glass | Syverson One Shot
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Summary: Was Sy keeping secrets just like the rest?  He was about to find out that you’re not a doormat.  
Captain Syverson x Reader (written inclusively) 
Word Count: 1902
Warning : 18+ ONLY, Minors DNI.  Smut, Swearing, minor mention of blood, fingering, orgasm, praise 
“What’s gotten you so hot under the collar?” he asks in his southern drawl, exasperation beginning to creep in slightly as he follows you down the hall and into the bedroom.  
“FUCK OFF!” you screech, hurling the nearest pillow at his head.  He dodges it deftly and it thumps the wall behind him.  “I KNOW ABOUT HER” you say with a finger pointed at him accusingly before walking into your closet to peel the shirt and shorts from your body and put on your robe.  You cinch it tightly around your waist and spin on your heel to leave the room.
His hulking form is blocking the doorway, back leaned against the frame and arms crossed over his chest.  
“Move,” you say to his chest, refusing to meet his eye.  
“Sugar” 
"MOVE” you demand, nostrils flared as you give him a small shove with your hands to his crossed forearms.  He moves like an oak tree - a slight sway but his feet remain planted.  You suck cooling air into your nostrils before giving him a kick to the shins -- just enough to knock him off guard.  
“Jesus Christ woman,” he says, hunching over to rub his shins.  Truthfully, it hurt your toe more than it hurt his shins but you couldn’t let him know that.  You used the moment to push past his hunched form and stomp down the hallway to the kitchen.  You make a show of clanking around the kitchen, unloading the dishwasher and ignoring his calls.  
He rounds the corner to the kitchen, a picture of patience and calm, and asks “Are ya gonna let me explain or do I need to get my shin guards?” 
You continue your silent campaign, reaching high on tip toes to stack the clean ceramic bowls into the cabinet.  You teeter slightly -- why was this shelf so fucking high anyway?! -- when you feel him take the bowls and place them easily on the shelf.  “I don’t want your help” you snip.  You slam the glassware onto the shelf wantonly, the items rattling each time.  A stemless wine glass cracks clean down the middle, small shards flying off and the cut glass piercing your skin.  “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. 
“Alright now quit it,” he says, his patient restraint gone and replaced with a cocktail of annoyance and concern.  He strides to you, reaching for your hand.  
“Oh fuck off, I’m fine,” you say, yanking your hand from his grasp and sucking on the bleeding gash.  
“That’s enough.  You’re gonna let me take a look now,” he orders, the compromise gone from his voice.  With nostrils flared, you begrudgingly offer your hand.  He inspects it, eyes glancing to you occasionally to signal his annoyance, but his touch is gentle.  “Puttin’ on a show over here...nearly dismember a finger..” he mutters to himself as he dabs the gash with a cool, wet towel.  He steps away to the hall closet briefly and returns with a Band Aid, expertly smoothing it across the injury.  
“Thank you,” you mutter, still reusing to meet his eye. “I’m heading to bed,” you say, determined to stay mad, refusing to crack the door open to further conversation. 
“Whoa hang on sunshine, there’s glass everywhere and you’re in your bare feet.  I’m always tellin’ ya to wear your slippers-- you’ll catch your death in those bare feet,”  he says shaking his head.  He places his hands in the pit of your arms and lifts you effortlessly to sit on the countertop, your ass plopping on the cool marble, bare feet swinging below.  “Stay put, don’t make me say it again,” he says with a pointed finger and you cross your arms and roll your eyes in response.  
He returns to the small hall closet and fetches the broom and dustpan, poised to sweep up the garden of glass strewn on the kitchen floor.  He makes one sweep but pauses, his back to you, and you hear a small chuckle, his broad shoulders bouncing imperceptibly.  
“What in the world is so funny?” you ask with annoyance.
“Well now I seem to have a captive audience here don’t I?” he says, spinning to face you with a shit-eating grin on his face.  
“Sy, clean up the fucking glass and let me down. NOW,” you order him, if it were possible to order around Captain Syverson.  He strides toward you, feeling quite proud of himself and plants his hands on either side of your thighs, caging you in.  You give a small shove to his chest, “I’m not fucking talking to you right now,” you assert, adjusting the splayed sides of your silk robe to cover your thighs.  
“Well you’re gonna have to cuz I’m your only hope against a sea of glass, honey,” he grumbles, eyes on you with his head slightly bowed.  Fuck those blue eyes. “These pretty feet will get all banged up without me,” he adds, lifting your foot to kiss your big toe. You remain still as stone, his wet kiss lingering on the tip of your toe. 
“Why the fuck is there a 2am call to Marissa in your phone?” you ask directly, damning the quake of emotion peaking through in your voice.  Sy wasn’t like all the rest, was he? 
He swipes a hand down his face and dips his head, realization hitting him. “Sugar, Marissa and I have a history.  A LONG history.  But it’s just that-- history.” 
“Sy, please spare me.  I don’t typically talk to my exes at 2am.  Respect me enough to tell the truth,” you say coldly, biting the inside of your cheek.  
“Honey I’m tellin’ ya.  Jerry called me from the bar, said Marissa was in a bad way.  She’d been drinkin’ too much.  She may be my ex but she’s got a kid and I’ll be damned if I let that kid down so I called Marissa to tell her I called her a cab home.  And that’s the end of it,” he says with conviction.  You size him up skeptically, measuring his honesty.  
“I’m a lotta things Sugar but a cheat ain’t one of ‘em,” he says, standing straight and stepping closer-- his thick waist nudging your knees open and keeping them that way.  “Besides, you’re lethal, I’d be a fool to risk my life for some side pussy,” he teases, his calloused finger nudging your chin up to meet his eyes.  He was looking to make you laugh but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.  
“Aw now don’t pout on me, honey,” he says with mock hurt, “I’m a sucker for a pretty girl pouting.”  He lifts his hands from the counter and lands them on the crease where your hips meet your legs.  He nestles his thumbs into the fold, the action drawing your legs an inch further apart on the countertop.  Despite yourself, your core grows wet.  Of course it does, it’s Sy.  
“Sy,” you huff as he leans to press his form against you, a kiss planted on your shoulder.  
“Hmm?” he hums absently, peppering your neck and shoulder with kisses.  His thumbs are hooked in the warm crevasse of your hips and he’s massaging the spot rhythmically.  His thumbs making deep anchored circles, your legs gently closing and splaying with each round.  
“I’m not done being mad,” you manage to say between breaths, your head lolling back at his kisses.  
“That’s alright sugar, you can be mad,” he says and then latches his mouth to your neck, sucking your delicate skin and nipping.  You reach down and find his hand buried in your hip and you push it lower, the ache in your center nearly at a fever pitch.  He lifts both hands first and unties your robe, slipping it from your shoulders and letting it pool under your ass on the counter.  
He lets out a low whistle in appreciation-- Sy revered the female form, a true southern gentleman-- before latching a needy mouth to your pebbled nipple.  You hiss, the tiny electricity bolts traveling down your spine and you smack his shoulder in your final feeble attempt to convey the anger that was fizzling away by the second.  He swipes a broad hand through the stretch of your petals, wetness coating his fingers instantly.  “Fuck,” he mutters to himself.  
“Doll you’ve been needing me this bad, huh?” he asks, his eyes fixed on your drenched folds as he works them.  You whimper and nod your head.  “Look at you, beautiful,” he says with reverence.  “Go on, look at yourself honey,” and you oblige, craning your head down to watch Sy’s thick fingers travel torturously through your wetness.  His fingers, calloused and thick, look dipped in dew, glistening with evidence of your forgiveness.  The sight makes you moan, “Sy, please,” you plead.  
“Sometimes a man likes to savor his dessert sugar,” he replies, “but I won’t make you wait,” he adds, plunging two thick fingers into your clenching hole.  You gasp and squeak, tossing your head back again and clamping your eyes shut.  He pumps them in and out, anchoring his thumb to your clit as he does.  He works you like he’s giving a massage, the strength of his hand softening your muscles beneath it.  He touches you like an instrument-- with certainty and mastery-- balancing the innate fact that your body is yours but your pleasure is his.  
“That pretty little nub is screaming, isn’t she darlin’“ he asks with tenderness, pity even, his thumb working your clit with deftness.  Your lower body rocks with his power on the countertop.  You nod with a whimper, desperate for Sy to make it better.  “Sy’s gonna take care of you sweetheart,” he replies, knowing your need, “hold on to me honey.”  
You drape your arms around each of his shoulders, your bare breasts pressed against the soft cotton of his T-shirt.  He supports your form and begins working your core in earnest, his capable fingers plunging deep as his thumb flicks your wet pearl.  You feel the tickle of his fingers hit your spongey wall, grinding your hips into him to meet his deepness.  He swipes his fingers back and forth, a tide made in your body, teasing your core and beckoning your pleasure.  
Your breath is ragged in his ear, each one a mewl as he draws you closer.  With a final effort he picks up speed, your whole body rutting back and forth on his hand as your orgasm hits you so intensely that you don’t make a sound beside a sharp inhale.  You lean onto his chest completely and convulse, your pussy gripping the length of his fingers rhythmically.  Your legs tremble as you dribble your wetness down your thigh and onto the countertop.  You grip him like a vice, desperate for the stability of his form as your body trembles. 
“You’re alright honey,” he drawls into the shell of your ear.  “I love the way you move like that, sugar,” he adds, his eyes cast downward watching the last of the aftershocks tremble your legs.  
“Sy,” you sigh, enough strength returning to wrap your arms around the girth of his neck, your chest heaving against the spread of him.  
“I’m here baby,” he answers, “let’s get to bed.” He laces his hands under your ass to lift you from the counter, your legs wrapping around his thick waist.  He carries you to your shared bed, glass crunching underfoot.  
tag: @summersong69
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sequinsmile-x · 8 months
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Home - Chapter Six
Revenge - (re·​venge: Noun.)
The action of hurting or harming someone in return for an injury or wrong suffered at their hands.
She'd been comfortable and safe for so long that she'd allowed herself how to forget how it felt to be afraid.
A sequel to The Way Home
-x-
Hi friends,
I am so so sorry for the length of time it has been since I updated this fic. Honestly, I love this version of them so much and I promise you this hasn't been through a lack of care for this fic.
This is incredibly emotionally taxing to write and I, for a number of reasons, have not been in the place to write it.
I am feeling better now, and I am back into writing this. I hope you enjoy this, and please do let me know what you think - and that you still want to read this version of them!! <3
-x-
Words: 3.3k
A full list of warnings can be found on the Series Master List.
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Emily blows out a shaky breath, the sound loud as it echoes around the bathroom. Bouncing off the walls that Haley had helped pick the tiles for. She’d always had a knack for interior design, something that neither Emily nor Aaron particularly cared about, so she’d helped them decorate their house, leaving Emily to wonder if there was a corner of her home she could look at without thinking of her best friend. 
Her best friend who’s funeral she was about to go to. 
It had been two weeks since she’d found Haley barely alive in her house, and it felt like no time at all but also like it had been years since she’d spoken to her friend. At first, when she could still see the dried blood in around her nails, stuck in places she’d never had to focus so hard on washing before, she’d been lost in the haze. Stuck in the grief and shock that felt overwhelming. Stealing her ability to breathe, to think. 
Then they told Jack, and then Eleanor, and all of a sudden her grief didn’t seem to matter anymore. She’d put it on the back burner, letting it simmer away, slowly coming to a boil she knew would spill over soon, scalding her and anyone who happened to be nearby. It was easier to look after them, to look after her husband, than it was to acknowledge her own grief. It was easier than acknowledging her guilt that, no matter what Aaron said, no matter how much he assured her nothing was her fault, was burning her from the inside out. 
The last two weeks had involved more interviews with the police than she cared to count. They’d confirmed that the crime matched Foyet’s MO, and that the only thing missing from Haley’s house was a photo, the frame broken and left on the living room floor. Aaron had confirmed that the missing picture was from Eleanor’s most recent birthday, a moment frozen in time that Haley had proudly displayed. Her arm was around Jack, who had his little sister on his hip, with Emily and Aaron on her other side. 
Emily can almost put herself back in that moment if she closes her eyes. The sound of small children running around their backyard, the laughter that followed them everywhere. The smell of the candles that she’d helped her daughter blow out. The peace she’d felt at the time, just out of reach now that it had been snatched away by men who would never see their own role in the mess of their lives. 
She jumps slightly at the sound of the timer on her phone coming to an end, and she turns it off before it can alert anyone else in the house. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before she turns to look at the white stick laid out on the counter. She blows out a shaky breath as she picks it up to inspect the result, even though it was clear as day, no room left for interpretation. 
She presses her lips together and shakes her head, gripping the test tightly for a second. It was the result she’d expected, the one she’d been anticipating for days as she put off taking it. She swallows thickly, pushing down the emotions that threaten to climb up her throat. 
“Emily?” 
She sniffs and wipes a stray tear from her cheek as her step-son calls out for her, and she gives the test another cursory look before she shoves it in a drawer, hiding it under several skincare products, even though she knows her husband never goes in there. She steps out into the bedroom and feels her heart seize in her chest at the sight of Jack in front of her, dressed up in the black suit he’d bought for his high school prom, missing the red tie he’d bought to match his date’s dress. His body is tense, a tightness to his shoulders he’d had ever since he came home, and his eyes are wide and shining, lost in a way that makes him look like the little boy she’d met all those years ago, not the young man he’d grown up into in front of her very eyes.
“Yes, sweetie?” 
He clears his throat and avoids eye contact, already looking like he is on the verge of tears, and he looks at the ground, “Dad said I could borrow one of his ties?” He says, his voice rough, “He’s almost done getting Ellie ready.” 
“Of course,” she says, nodding towards the closet, indicating that he follows her. She opens the drawer full of Aaron’s ties and pulls out a black one before she hands it to him. 
“Thanks,” He says, smiling tightly as he lays it over his shoulder and pops up his collar. She watches for a second as he struggles with it, his hands not working as he wants them to, almost as if his grief, his shock over losing his mother in such a violent way, had made its way into his bloodstream. Freezing up his extremities from the inside out. He growls in frustration and throws his hands up in the air, “Damn it.”
“I’ve got it, honey,” she says, closing the gap and tying it for him. It makes her think of her and Aaron’s wedding. How Jack had run from the room he’d been getting ready with Aaron into hers, his smile wide as he saw her in her dress. She’d fixed his tie for him then too, the knot of it seeming absurdly large in comparison to him. She lays it flat against him once she’s done, clearing her throat as she makes sure it’s straight, “There you go.” 
“Thanks, Emily,” he replies, standing stiffly in front of her, lost and unsure what to do. She pulls him into a hug, sighing when he gratefully returns it, his hands fisting in the back of her dress as he holds her closer like he did when he was small and barely awake from a nightmare. Things were different now, he was taller than her, just barely but enough he’d often joke about it, making a big deal of getting things from the top shelf of the pantry when he was home, and this wasn’t a nightmare. 
It was their reality, something they’d never wake up from.
“I don’t want to go,” he says, his voice tight, “It…makes it real.” 
She nods, pulling back to look at him, curling the sleeve of her dress over her fist so she can wipe his tears away, another flash of another lifetime, “I know,” she says, “But…the sooner we go, the sooner we can come back home.” 
He chuckles humourlessly and nods, “And then what?”
She wishes she had an answer for him, but she doesn’t, and she thinks that hurts more than anything.
___
It had been a long day. 
She was exhausted in a way she hadn’t been in a long time, the weight of it heavy on her shoulders. Aaron and Jack were on the back porch. Emily had seen her husband walk outside with two bottles of beer, the pair of them exchanging a soft smile. Jack was only 19, but if ever there was a day for them to let him drink it was on the day of his mother’s funeral. 
Emily sighs as she steps into the kitchen, the quiet of the rest of the house bleeding into it. The silence haunts her, hanging over her home that was usually so full of life and sound, chasing her like a ghost she could not escape. 
“Mama?” 
She turns to look at Eleanor, and the sight of the little girl in her black dress, the funeral outfit she hates that she had to buy her, turns her stomach. Emily clears her throat, failing to dislodge the grief that had been stuck there for days as she approaches her daughter and crouches in front of her. 
“Hi sweet girl,” she says, tugging gently at one of Eleanor’s braids as she lays it on her shoulder, “How are you doing?” 
Eleanor shrugs, her sadness written all over her face, and it makes Emily ache, “I’m hungry.” 
Emily nods and picks her up, wishing she could ignore the way her little girl grasps at her, her fists tight in the material of the neckline of her dress, hanging on as if she was going to disappear too. 
“Me too, baby,” she lies. She hadn’t been hungry since she’d found Haley, every single thing she’d eaten something she’d been all but force-fed by Aaron, “Let's see what’s in the freezer.” 
As she pulls the freezer open she sees one of the casseroles Haley had left there, a time capsule of another life. A simpler time that felt so much longer ago than the two weeks it was. She swallows thickly and shuts the freezer, tightening her hold on Eleanor. “Why don’t we order something in, huh? What do you think we should get?” 
“Chinese!” 
She frowns, tilting her head to look at her little girl, “Not pizza? That’s your favourite.”
Eleanor shakes her head and rests her forehead against Emily’s neck, her little hand tangling in with her necklace, “Jack likes Chinese food. It makes him happy.” 
Emily closes her eyes and sucks in a breath, her daughter’s kindness, her endless empathy, almost knocking her over. The little girl had struggled to understand everything. It was her first experience of loss and it had taken some time for it to sink in that Haley was truly gone, that she’d never see her again. Eleanor had been sleeping in Emily and Aaron’s bed ever since Haley had died, something her parents took as much comfort in as she did, neither of them willing to even think about putting her back in her own bed yet. 
“Yeah,” Emily replies, kissing Eleanor’s temple, “Chinese food is a great idea.” 
They eat dinner as a family, but in silence. None of able to bring themselves to make idle chit-chat, the day not feeling right for it. Jack excuses himself for bed after eating, hauling his little sister into a tight hug when Emily makes it clear dinner had been her idea. Aaron takes Eleanor to bed, skipping any pretence of putting her in her room and laying her down in theirs, a kiss against her forehead when she was already asleep promising they’d be there soon. 
Emily settles onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions, and she sighs, rubbing her hand over her forehead. 
“Long day.”
She looks up and smiles tightly at her husband, nodding as she bites the inside of her cheek, “Yeah, long day.” 
He points towards the kitchen over his shoulder, “Can I get you anything? Maybe a glass of wine?”
She opens her mouth to respond, having to swallow down her initial instinct, “No,” she says, shaking her head at him, “No I’m okay,” she says, offering out a hand to him, “Come sit with me.” 
He doesn’t need asking twice. Throughout the day they’d barely been able to look after each other, their attention on their children and helping Haley’s sister make sure the wake went smoothly. Every time he’d sought her out, looking for his wife across a crowded room, he’d see the way she was barely holding herself together. Taped and glued together with love for Jack and Eleanor, putting them first like she always did. He wraps his arms tightly around her, hauling her into his lap, her side against his chest. 
She feels the immediate sense of home she had always found in his embrace, a sense of safety even Ian had never been able to take from her. 
“What can I do to help?” He asks, his hand trailing up and down her arm, holding her closer as she hides her face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him.
“You’re already doing it,” she replies, pulling back to look at him, running her fingers through his hair, “You buried a woman you love today. What can I do to help?” 
He dresses a kiss to her forehead and then her temple, “You’re already doing it,” he says, both of them smiling softly as he repeats her words back to her, “Do you want to go up to bed, or shall we sit here for a while?”
“Let's sit here for a while,” she says, snuggling further into him, and he nods, reaching for the tv remote and switching it on, desperately needing the background noise, the silence in the house almost suffocating. 
He chuckles when Star Trek pops up on the screen and he presses the guide button, smiling into the top of his wife’s head when he sees there are several episodes on in a row, “Look Em. Your favourite - a marathon.” 
She shakes her head at him and lightly slaps at the shoulder she isn’t resting her head on, “Jerk,” she says, her smile fading before she turns her head to kiss his jaw, “I love you.” 
He holds her closer, letting the weight of her against his chest comfort him, “I love you too.” 
___
Aaron watches as his wife falters on Haley’s porch, her body betraying her will to push past the nausea that the mere thought of going back into the house brought her. 
He looks at his son, watching as he opens the front door and walks in, and he stops Emily, his hand on her arm, “Em, you don’t have to go in there, Jack would understand.” 
She puts her hand over his, linking their fingers together, “He asked us both to come to help him get some of his things,” she says, smiling tightly at him, “I have to do this for him.” 
He looks like he wants to argue with her, but he stops himself, something she’s grateful for as she follows Jack into the house. 
It smells clean. Not the kind of clean Haley kept it, the floral scent that would usually hang in the air replaced by a strong scent of bleach. She knows the crime scene cleaners had finished up a few days ago. She hadn’t come back since the night she’d found her, instead, Aaron had come over with Jessica to pick out some clothes to give to the funeral home. She pauses near the living room, unable to bring herself to look into it, and she turns to look at her husband, clearing her throat before she speaks, pushing down the fear she can feel climbing up it. 
“We don’t have too long until we need to pick up Ellie from school,” she says, still anxious to be separated from her daughter at all, but aware that the school had a lot of security and would only let her or Aaron pick the little girl up, “I’ll…” she looks at the living room and then back at him, “I’ll go up into the attic, I think some of the things Jack wants are up there.” 
Aaron nods, wanting nothing more than to reach out for her, but he knows her well enough to know this wasn’t the place for it. That a hug from him would be her undoing and she couldn’t afford to fall apart here. 
Emily makes up the stairs in record time, passing Jack in his bedroom, her chest tight as she listens to him root through drawers and his closet as if this would be the last time he would be here. She pulls down the ladder and goes into the attic, grateful for some alone time, for the chance to pull herself back together. She blows out a steady breath and starts to look for Jack’s things, some of the childhood books and toys he’d asked for them to take to their place instead, so they could store them in their attic. Keep them safe from the violence that now lingered in the air of this house. 
She spots one of the boxes with his name emblazoned on the side, but stops short of it when she sees a box with her name on the outside. She frowns as she kneels down in front of it, her hands shaking slightly as she opens the top of it. She gasps, catching the sound with her hand as her breath gets stuck in her chest, painful as it tries to escape. The box was full of Eleanor’s baby clothes and toys. Tiny onesies she’d packed away when she convinced herself Eleanor had been her one baby. Items she’d asked Haley to donate years ago when the thought of having another child was too much to bear, the losses she’d had draining her of any hope she may have once had. 
She frowns as she sees a small picture she hadn’t put in there, something Haley clearly had added. It had been taken the day Eleanor was been born. Jack and Haley were the only visitors they had at the hospital. It was just her, Haley and a tiny little Eleanor in Haley’s arms, a quick capture of the most unlikely of friendships. Emily can imagine Haley slipping the picture into this box, a smile on her face as she thought about how she’d present it to Emily when she had another baby, a glint in her eye that said nothing except ‘I told you so.” 
It felt like cruel irony that her friend who’d clearly believed she’d have the chance to have another baby, the one who not-so-gently encouraged her to push past the fear, would never know she was pregnant. 
She knew before she took the test that it would be positive. Symptoms she’d put down to the chaos their lives had turned into finally too intense to ignore. She presses her hand onto her belly, closing her eyes, tears escaping down her cheeks, as she thinks of the positive pregnancy test in her bathroom at home. It had been three days since she’d taken it but she still hadn’t told Aaron. She’d tried to, more than once, but she’d felt wholly unable to say the words. To say something that should be so full of joy, of happiness, when they were living under this blanket of grief. 
“Damn it, Haley,” she says outloud, shaking her head at her friend, “You really are something else,” her smile slips off her face, “You really were.” 
She frowns as she hears her husband’s voice travel all the way upstairs, raised and barely controlled. She climbs down the ladder and meets Jack on the landing, his eyebrows furrowed. She squeezes his arm in an attempt to reassure him.
“It’s probably just work,” she says, tilting her head towards his room, “You go finish in there and I’ll go check on your dad.” 
Jack nods and heads back into his bedroom, and Emily walks down the stairs, her husband's voice becoming clearer. 
“I am not making a deal with you,” he seethes, his jaw tight as he talks to whoever is on the other end of the phone, “Every federal agent in the country has your picture. You can’t run forever.” 
Emily hears what sounds like a laugh from the other end of the line and then the dial tone. Aaron pulls the phone from his ear and looks at her, something in his eyes that she can’t read.
“Honey, who was that?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest, fear that she already knew the answer making her chest tight. 
He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, uneasiness settling deep in his gut, “It was George Foyet. He wanted to make a deal.” 
-x-
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craby-bouquet · 9 months
Note
Would you accept a request for the next chapter of Wonwoo or Soonyoung’s Crown Heads??? 😬😬😬 If not, just some good old Wonwoo fluff! Maybe a new town, neighbors2lovers!au?
thank you for requesting!! i’ll be continuing crowned heads for sure no worries!! i love that series too much to just stop it hahaha so ill gradually be continuing that :) 
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A new Neighbour - Jeon Wonwoo
Requested
Jeon Wonwoo x Reader
Fluff, neighbors2lovers
900 words
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You watched the moving truck pull up to the house next to you. It had stood empty for about a year now, since the old lady Miller had died. You wondered who would move in next. Perhaps a writer, or an actor, maybe a pop-star or a ghost. The possibilities are endless and your imagination was overworking itself thinking about it. 
The moving truck stopped on the driveway and a young man walked out. You were immediately enchanted by his beauty. 
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Your mother pricked the cake on the counter to check if it’s ready to eat. 
“Perfect.” she placed the cake on a nice plate and handed it to you, “Bring this to the new neighbors, please. And maybe invite them over for coffee somewhere next week.” 
You took the plate from her hands and nodded, holding your excitement to meet the beautiful man in. 
When you knocked on their door you heard some scrambling and rumbling from the inside but it didn’t take long for the man to open the door. He was about your age and looked at you with a blank expression. You noticed his plump lips and stared at them a little too long before introducing yourself and handing him the cake. 
“Oh… thanks. We will enjoy it.” He placed the cake on a dresser close to the door.
“And we were wondering if maybe you wanted to come have coffee at our house next week?” 
He nodded, “I’ll ask my mom when she gets home, but I’m sure she’d be excited to meet the neighbors.” 
You beamed, “Great.”
For a second he seemed hesitant about something, then he shook his head and opened his door a bit wider, “I have a strange question for you…” he started.
“Shoot.” you encouraged. 
“Well, I’m trying to assemble this closet thing but I’m home alone and I could use a second pair of hands. Would you mind helping me out?” 
You nodded eagerly, happy you decided to wear comfy clothes today, “Of course I would. Tell me what I can do.” 
He smiled and stepped aside so you could walk through. After he closed the door behind you, he picked up the cake again and walked through the hallway into a room, “I’ll put this in the kitchen real quick.” 
The house looked like what you’d expect a house to look when people are still moving in. There were boxes everywhere, picture frames stacked on top of each other waiting to be nailed to the wall, and pieces of wood waiting to be assembled into a closet.
“Yes, that's the one. It’s more complicated than it looks.” he chuckled, a lovely sound. 
You picked up the instructions and sighed. It did look complicated.  
But together it was easier than you’d thought. You learned very quickly, because you asked, that your new neighbor was called Wonwoo. He was the nicest man you’d ever met and were happy to find out he would be starting at your school after summer vacation. Even though you spent the afternoon assembling a closet, you had so much fun getting to know Wonwoo, and you could tell he had fun too.
“I can’t believe it.” he said after the closet was standing in the hall, completed, “We did it.” 
His eyes found yours, the biggest smile adorned his lips. You couldn’t help but smile too, and before you knew it Wonwoo’s arms were around you, hugging you tight.
“Thank you for your help.” it was almost a whisper.
He took a step back and you tried to fix yourself up again, trying not to show how shocked you were by his display of affection.
“I think,” he was still smiling, “we deserve a piece of the delicious cake your mother made.” 
He gestured you to follow him to the kitchen, where you sat down on a bar stool while he took out a knife to cut the cake.
He handed you a plate with a thick piece of cake on it, together with the drink you asked for, “Thank you.” you said eagerly. You loved your mothers cake, she was the best at baking. 
Wonwoo sat down next to you with his cake and took a bite, making sounds which told you he liked it.
“This is amazing! You have to thank your mom for me.” 
You chuckled and took a bite yourself.
When he finished his cake he turned to look at you, “So I was wondering something.” 
You swallowed the last of your cake, “Shoot.”
He nodded, “Well I had fun this afternoon and I was wondering if maybe you’d want to go out some time.” 
Your heart jumped, but you tried to look as calm and collected as you could, “You mean… this wasn’t a date?” you gestured around you to tell him you meant today. 
His eyes widened, “Well I didn’t mean for it to be, but it could have been if you want. I mean, I… uh.” 
You laughed, “I was joking, Wonwoo.” 
He nodded and sighed relieved, “Right, right. Well I want to take you on a proper first date. Maybe dinner and a movie?” 
You nodded happily, “I would love that.” 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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berkmansimagines · 1 year
Text
Vigilante Shit
A/N: This was really fun to write 🔪💋
Summary: You and Barry help out a family friend.
Pairing: Barry Berkman x hitman!wife reader
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You don’t normally do pro-bono work but this was a special case. You’re doing it as a favor for your handler - Diane. Diane’s teenage niece, Sarah, has been getting some unwelcome attention from a stalker. The stalker is named Jeremy. He’s a twenty-something loser that works as a pizza delivery boy. Jeremy won’t leave Sarah alone. He has texted and called her so much that she’s had to change her phone number twice. The creep has even followed her to school a few times. Sarah tried going to the police for help but they did nothing. She has become so freaked out, she’s afraid to leave her home.
You used to babysit Sarah when she was a little girl. It was long ago when you first moved out to LA, before you got started down your current career path. Sarah’s a good kid. She doesn’t deserve any of this. So when Diane told you what was going on, you volunteered to take care of the problem. Diane demanded that you only intimidate the guy and not kill him. She doesn’t want to raise any suspicion from her niece. Neither you or Diane want Sarah to find out what you really do for a living.
While doing some pre-op, you discovered that the stalker lives nearby a restaurant that you and Barry have been meaning to check out. You asked your husband if he wanted to join you and he offered to help out with the job. You plan on getting dinner afterwards. Because this is sort of a date night for you and Barry, you’re more dressed up than usual. You're wearing a little black dress and did some cool cat eye makeup.
You and Barry broke into Jeremy’s place and are waiting for him to return from work. It’s a tiny studio apartment. There’s an entire wall covered with pictures of Sarah. Many of the photos appear to have been taken without Sarah’s knowledge or consent. You tear down the pictures before the stalker gets home.
You’re in the middle of perusing the liquor cabinet when Jeremy walks through the door. His jaw drops when he sees you. A hot woman is inside his apartment. He thinks he won the lottery or something.
“Hi. Uh, what are you doing here?” Jeremy awkwardly waves to you.
“Waiting for you,” you casually nod, “I was hoping to make myself a drink, but you have some terrible taste in alcohol. I mean, what the fuck is this shit?”
You hold up a bottle of Whipped Cream Vodka.
“Such a child,” you scoff.
You pour the vodka down the drain. Jeremy’s face drops.
“Hey! What the fuck?!” he yells.
Jeremy rushes toward you when you suddenly smash the vodka bottle. Glass flies everywhere. Jeremy stops in his tracks while you remain unfazed. You hold up the broken bottle like a weapon and slowly approach the stalker.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” you shake your head.
Jeremy takes a few steps back before bumping into Barry. He turns around and screams at the site of your husband. Barry is leaning against the door with his arms crossed against his chest and a gun in his hand. He coldly stares down the stalker. If looks could kill, Jeremy would be dead.
“What the fuck?! Who the fuck are you people?” the stalker asks.
“Oh don’t worry about him. You’re going to be talking to me. I’m Y/N. You don’t need to introduce yourself. I already know all about you, Jeremy,” you say coolly.
“What….what do you want?”
You smirk, confidently fiddling the broken bottle between your fingers. Jeremy is absolutely terrified. You’ve got him right where you want him.
“Listen, me and my partner over there have dinner reservations. And I’m nothing if not punctual so I’m going to make this quick. I know what you’ve been doing to Sarah. The stalking, the harassment, all of it. And it stops now. You understand?”
Jeremy quickly nods his head. He looks like he’s about to cry.
“Yes…yes, ma’am,” he stutters.
You put the broken bottle to Jeremy’s neck.
“I want you to promise me that you’ll never bother Sarah again,” you demand. “I promise!” Jeremy yelps.
“Promise what?” you press the glass shards against his neck. “I promise I won’t bother Sarah again!” he cries.
You take a deep breath and lower the bottle away from Jeremy’s neck.
“Great! Then we’re all done here.”
You nonchalantly toss the broken bottle behind you.
“Thanks for being a good sport,” you nod.
You put your fist out for Jeremy to bump. He gives you a confused look and reluctantly puts his fist out, when Barry abruptly grabs him. Your husband slams Jeremy against the wall. Jeremy shrieks in pain.
“Sorry I should’ve warned you that my partner is a little protective. He doesn’t like it when creepy stalkers try to touch me,” you snicker.
Barry puts a gun to Jeremy’s chin. You stand by your husband and get right in Jeremy’s face.
“Don’t talk to Sarah or go near her ever again. If you even so much as look in her general direction, my partner and I will come back and I promise you we won’t be as polite,” you threaten him.
Barry lets go of Jeremy and he falls to the floor. He’s crying in the fetal position.
“I think our work is done here. Come on, babe, let’s go,” you tell Barry.
And with that, you and Barry walk out. As you leave Jeremy’s building, the two of you do a cute little high five. You’re so happy you pulled this off. Now that creep will finally leave Sarah alone.
“That was kinda fun!” you giggle and scrunch your nose, “Did you hear him call me ma’am? I don’t think anyone’s called me ma’am before.”
“Yeah! You were so intimidating, babe,” Barry compliments you, “It was actually pretty hot.”
Your husband can’t help but check you out. You look so pretty. He’s impressed and proud of you. That’s my fucking wife.
“Awww thanks babe! You were good muscle,” you wink.
You and Barry get into the car. While Barry gets the directions for the restaurant on his phone, you check out your make up in the mirror. It still looks good.
“You know, I feel like I really had to hold myself back with that creep,” you quietly admit, “This whole situation got me thinking, what if we have a little girl one day and something like this happened to her? What would we have done?”
“If it was our kid, he would’ve been dead the moment he walked through the door,” Barry immediately replies in a low, serious voice.
You raise your eyebrows and coyly smile. Barry didn’t even hesitate with his answer. You’re kinda turned on by that.
“Babe…”
You rest your hand on Barry’s thigh.
“I know we made dinner reservations, but I want to skip right to dessert. How about we blow off the reservation and go home?” you suggest.
Barry’s face perks up. He stops the directions for the restaurant and puts in the address for home.
“Whatever you say, ma’am,” Barry smirks.
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dragondemoness · 2 years
Note
Hi it me the bunny anon after you made my request about phantom thieves x with the cute reader can you do a version where y/n have a palace but different because they palace was made by the grief and sorrow and how much y/n misses they grandma they palace it totally opposite of they style it a huge scary abandoned mansion full of everything that is scary and terrifying y/n shadow self it then where are a child with they plushie with them they enter the mansion to find they grandma headcanons
Finally, I was able to get to this one!
So, I did the boys and girls separately. This part includes the boys, and I'll make a separate post about the girls.
So sorry this took so long, Bunny Anon!
Ultimate Cuteness Reader - Phantom Thieves Edition (alternate) (The Boys)
Akira Kurusu/Joker
He never once thought that you might have a palace
You always seemed too sweet to have one
He was quickly proven wrong when he saw that you left your bunny plush in a classroom
The plush started glowing red and vibrating
Next thing he knew, he was in his Phantom Thief attire, in a dark mansion
Was this... a palace?
The Meta-Nav never detected it
It was unlike anything he had ever seen
And he noticed that the bunny plush was gone
It was your palace?
He didn't want to believe it
It was so unlike you
But he wouldn't know unless he explored, so he did, despite his anxiety
Compared to the other palaces he's infiltrated, this one was absolutely horrifying
The cognition, the designs, even the shadows
Joker was afraid to even go near the shadows
He noticed the shadows were all wearing bunny masks as well
The dark walls of the palaces were lined with paintings
Paintings of you, your bunny plush, and an elderly woman
Except for a large, empty frame 
He got up close to one of the paintings, and he accidentally fell into it
He saw the events of the painting unfold before him
It was the day your grandmother gave the bunny plush to you when you were a child
So it really was your palace
But your palace didn't seem malicious at all
Just filled with grief and sorrow
He explored the rest of your memories, up until he made it to the empty frame
He touched it, and suddenly, he found himself in a large room
Joker fell through the frame and hard onto the ground. After taking a moment to collect himself, he stood up and looked around. 
He found himself outside, in a large backyard with flowers everywhere.
He looked ahead of him, and his heart stopped.
He saw you, as a child. You were holding your plush in your arms, you wore small, cute clothes, and your once bright, beautiful eyes were now a glowing yellow. You stared at him with no expression.
Was this... your shadow?
"(N-Name)?" He found himself at a loss for words. "Why do you have a palace?"
"I'm looking for her."
He opened his mouth to ask who you were talking about, but he noticed you staring. 
He followed your gaze, and saw you staring at the other side of the empty frame. 
There was a picture of you and your grandma, dancing together in her flower garden while the bunny plush sat on a rocking chair in the background.
The flower garden looked exactly like where he was right now.
Then he figured it out. Your palace didn't spawn from a place of maliciousness or arrogance, but from a place of grief and sadness. You had been at your worst recently, missing your grandmother more than ever, developing an obsession with seeing her again.
Before he could say anything, the palace began to rumble. And out of nowhere, a hole opened up in the ground. And what appeared was an incredibly tall elderly woman, but much more twisted. She had large, clawed hands and feet, long bunny ears sitting on her head, bright red eyes and a sharp-toothed grin.
So this was your palace's cognition of your grandma. Given how fondly you viewed her, Joker was confused.
But he took a breath in and put a hand on his knife. He was gonna have to fight your grandmother, and it wasn't gonna be easy.
Ryuji Sakamoto 
All he wanted to do was return your bunny plush
And he ended up getting caught up in this
The second he placed his hands on it, he ended up in a palace
Was it... yours?
He tries to deny it at first
There's no way you could have a palace!
But the memory paintings proved otherwise
The paintings of you, your grandmother, your bunny
As he roamed around, he felt more and more unsettled
The palace was so dark and scary
It wasn't like you at all
Even the shadows were creepy
They weren't patrolling the palace or anything
They were just standing around in groups, with rabbit masks on their faces
Ryuji cautiously walked up to one of them and struck them with his weapon
It didn't fight back or attack him
Just stared at him and groaned
Ryuji quickly walked away from it
He roamed around anxiously, trying to find your shadow
He just wanted to know why you had a palace in the first place
You were way too nice to have strong enough feelings of malice to spawn one
But as he was thinking, he fell through an empty picture frame and ended up in a flower garden
"(Name)? Why do you have a Palace?"
Ryuji stared in shock at what looked like your shadow. You stared back at him with wide, expressionless, yellow eyes.
"I'm not sure what you mean. This is her home."
Before he could ask what you meant, you pointed to something behind him. He followed your gaze and saw the painting behind him.
It was you, as a child, and your grandmother dancing together in a flower garden.
The flower garden he was in.
Ryuji stared at the painting, with no words to say. He finally realized the truth. Your Palace didn't spawn from feelings of malice or greed. It spawned from your feelings of grief.
You had been missing your grandmother more and more, and Ryuji felt stupid for not noticing. 
But he quickly looked away when he heard a rumbling from behind him. He turned, and a creepy, demented shadow suddenly sprang up from the ground. It looked like a strange hybrid of a rabbit and an elderly woman.
Wait... Was that your grandma?
So that was your cognition of her. But why? From the way you talked about her, she sounded like such a sweet person. So why would this be her cognition?
But now was no time to ask questions. Ryuji breathed in, and brought out his mace. He turned to you, looking to see what he would do. He felt a twinge of sadness in him.
He knew what he needed to do, and that it would hurt you. 
Yusuke Kitagawa 
He came to Shujin after school to visit you
He painted a new masterpiece and was excited to show you
But you weren't there
Instead, he found your bunny plush on a desk
He picked it up with a smile
"Well, well, what are you doing here by yourself? Where's (Name) run off to?"
The Bunny turned its head up to look at him, and it started to shake
Next thing he knew, he was in his Phantom Thief attire, and the rabbit had disappeared
To say he was shocked would be an understatement
Why did the rabbit bring him here? Where did the rabbit go?
Where the heck was he?
Given his costume and the cognition, Yusuke could only assume that this was a Palace
But it was different
It felt very dark and disturbing
He didn't even consider the idea that it was your Palace until he started to look around
He was distracted by the paintings on the walls
The paintings of you, an elderly woman, and your bunny
Suddenly, his blood turned to ice
This was your palace?!
Fear and anxiety took over as Yusuke took off in a run, desperately searching for your shadow
He needed to know why you had a palace
As he was running, he ran into the empty frame and fell into the flower garden
Yusuke stood up and took a look around. The garden was dark, the only light coming from the garden lights on the ground.
 He jumped when he saw your shadow, staring at him with wide, expressionless eyes. You held your bunny plush in your hands, with glowing eyes of its own.
"(Name)... What is this place?"
"This is her home."
As you said that, you turned your head and pointed to something behind him. Yusuke turned around and saw the painting he had fallen through.
It was a picture of you and your grandmother dancing in her flower garden, smiling and laughing. Yusuke could feel the pure joy from this picture, and it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.
But this moment was cut short when he felt the ground shake. He turned back around to see a large, demented shadow spring up from the ground. 
Yusuke watched in shock as the shadow beast towered over him. 
Was this the Palace's cognition of your grandmother? But why?
Yusuke froze. This was somehow even more disturbing than the Palace as a whole. And the reason it even existed was because he was blind to your grief.
He shook his head. Now was no time to succumb to the guilt. You needed him.
Yusuke readied his katana for battle. He needed to help you accept your grandmother's death, even if it hurt you.
Bonus: Goro Akechi
He had just finished another murder commission for one of Shido's confidants
After exiting the Metaverse, your bunny plush was right there in front of him
He was startled, having no idea how it ended up there
He picked it up, eying it curiously
Then he ended up right back in the Metaverse 
And the rabbit had disappeared
This Palace was unlike any other Palace he had entered
The overall cognition was dark and horrifying 
And there was an underlying feeling of grief behind it
For once, he felt anxious
He took a close look at the pictures on the wall
He saw you as a child, your bunny plush, and an elderly woman
Wait, was this your Palace?!
Suddenly in a panic, Akechi broke into a run and started looking for you
Soon after, he fell through a large, empty frame on the wall
Akechi landed in a flower garden, in the dark mansion's backyard. The only light were the garden lights in the ground. The sky had no moon, and no stars.
Was there even a sky?
He jumped when he heard footsteps in the grass. His heart stopped when he saw your shadow, the shadow of your child self.
"(Name)?" He forced out. You stared at him, your yellow eyes wide and unblinking. 
"Why are you here?" He asked.
"I finally found her. She's alive."
"What?" 
You pointed to something behind him, and he turned to see a large picture, in place of the empty frame he fell through.
It was a picture of you and your grandmother dancing in the flower garden, laughing and smiling while the plush rabbit sat on a rocking chair in the background.
Then, Akechi understood. Your increasing grief for your grandmother turned into denial, and you found yourself unable to accept her death, even after years.
He looked at you with sadness. He should have been with you more. He should have been there to help you.
But his thoughts were cut off by the ground suddenly shaking, and out of nowhere, a shadow appeared.
It looked like a strange hybrid of a rabbit and an elderly woman.
This was your Palace's cognition of her?
Then he realized: it wasn't how you viewed your grandmother. This shadow represented your grief, and your denial.
Akechi breathed in and reluctantly took out his gun. He felt horrible for what he was about to do. He had done enough damage already.
But the grief was hurting you, and he needed you to accept the truth, even if it was painful for you.
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xiament · 2 years
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best friends? Right
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Me and jack were at my childhood home I had met up with jack while he was in tour and he was also in my Hometown after he had finished his sets we went to my childhood home.
My parents are on vacation and Nadine been to the house in a long time being they started traveling a lot when I got older and they retired.
We started in the basement and made our way throughout the house filled with my memories as a kid.
“ do you want to go up to me room” I asked jack in which he game me a gummy smile and turned his head sideways and played with his beard as if he was thinking about it:
“ Lead the way mama” I grabbed his hands and he slightly surprised him and he looked down at our hands with a smile and then we started stepping upstairs to my room.
“Welcome to my childhood room” as I opened the door and moved out of the way to let him in he walked in and I followed after.
“Mama you room is so you” jack said looking at all the posters I had in my walls and the pictures of me and my friends but my plants were still alive my parents had someone take care of them.
“I see the plants are in good health “ jack said he knew I loved plants.
“Of course momma couldn’t let her babies die what kind of mother would that make me” I said
“You’d be a great mom to ours” I heard jack say loud and clear but I had always had crush on Jack so I had to make sure he said what I heard him say 100%.
“What” I stopped cooing at my plants and turned around so see Jack looking everywhere but at me.
“What you mean what” he repeated
“I mean what as in what did you say” I challenge walking closer to me ever so slightly with each step closing the gap between us.
Much like Jack I was a huge tease and a flirt so when ever we got together it was like a competition to see who could make the other smile or blush in jacks case more.
All jack did was look at me with a smile growing bigger and bigger the closer I got to him eventually we were chest to chest me looking up at him him looking down at me.
Until his eyes landed in something else
“You have a record player” he said looking behind me to the part of my room that had all my music things in it.
“Yes I love records” I said it was true I had every one I thought held some weight in the way I viewed music from Freddy Mercury to 2Pac and everything including I made sure to get the record version of any song that spoke to me.
I walked over to where my record shelf was everything was still how I had it after looking for a while I settled on a record.
“ do you remember the words to that song” I asked Jack was I set up the record to play.
“What song”
“ if I was your best friend” I started making my giggle
“Want you round all the time” I said in a song song voice as I stepped to him.
“Could I be your best friend “ I said looking up at him again he put his hand around my waist pulling me in never breaking eye contact.
“ if you promise you’ll be mine” I finished off something I don’t know what but I felt something pulling us together and then we connected.
“ I want you to be my everything including best friend” he said with his lips hovering over mine all I could to is nod with a dopey smile then we connected again and again.
After braking up to catch our breath he pulled me up in his arms my legs instantly wrapping around him and we swayed to the music.
“That’s how me and mommy got together ” I heard jack softly say rubbing my belly and I couldn’t hold it in anymore I started crying.
Immediately sending jack into over drive
“What wrong mama” he asked me I just shook my head nothing and layer in his chest.
“ I love you Mr.Harlow” I said with a yawn
“I love you more mama Harlow” jack said and I was pulled back into sleep with a single thought on my mind.
I love him
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englishstrawbie · 2 years
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#kacytober: OCT28 - paint
Follows on from OCT10 - mornings
It takes several weeks for Lucy’s wounds to start to heal. Her ribs are still sore and the cuts to her face leave a faint scar, but she is feeling well enough to go back to work. Jane will only let her do admin work for at least the next month. She gets it, even though she hates being stuck at her desk. It is the closest they have come to losing one of their team and it has rattled them all.
Kai is home now, released from the hospital a few days ago, and recovering well. He’s positive and cheerful, like always, despite the pain and discomfort he is in. Lucy spent a couple of hours with him once he was up for visitors, their conversation triggering her memories of that day and pushing her to work through the trauma thanks to the department-mandated counsellor that Jane insists she meets twice a week at the moment.
By the time the weekend rolls around, Lucy is exhausted and she falls into bed early on Friday night. She only stirs when she feels Kate slide into bed next to her, her arm instinctively reaching out around her waist, holding on to her like she has every night since that awful day.
The engagement ring still sits in her bottom drawer. Tomorrow, Lucy thinks, as she is on the verge of falling back to sleep. She doesn’t want to wait any longer. She knows she wants it to be romantic, to make a fool of herself for love like Kate did for her when she sang to her in front of all of their friends. Maybe, if she wakes early enough, she will follow her to the beach and surprise her after her morning surf. Or maybe she could do it when she gets home, the apartment filled with their favourite flowers and all the baked breakfast goods she can make.
Her plans go awry when she doesn’t wake up until just after ten o’clock. She can hear Kate pottering around the apartment, telling her that she is already back from the beach. So much for surprising her.
Lucy sits up and rolls her shoulders, then swings her legs out of bed and pads into the apartment, surprised to find it in disarray. All the furniture has been moved haphazardly, sheets covering the large flat-screen television and floor by the far end wall where Kate stands.
Rubbing her eyes, just to make sure she really is awake, Lucy frowns. “What’s going on?”
Kate spins around to face her. “I want you to have this,” she says simply, as if she is making sense.
“You want me to have this…?” Lucy questions.
“This wall,” Kate says, gesturing behind her.
Lucy shakes her head, confused. “Why?”
Kate sighs. “Because you’ve been living here for six months and it’s still my apartment.”
When Lucy arches her eyebrows in surprise at her words, she corrects herself.
“I mean, it’s our apartment, of course. But it’s still my stuff everywhere, my furniture, my pictures hanging from the walls.”
“So?”
“So… I want you to feel like this is your home too. I went out and got all these different samples from the hardware store. Not that you have to pick one that I chose, you can do whatever you want. Paint it whatever colour you want, hang whatever you want from the hooks.”
Kate’s voice raises by an octave, talking at double speed, like she does when she is wound up tight. Lucy knows why. She has been hovering ever since the incident, staying close and pandering to her every need. It is not like they don’t know how risky their jobs can be, but they have been confronted with the worst possible scenario and have been dancing around it ever since, refusing to acknowledge it outright. This, she knows, is Kate’s way of dealing with her fears.
Lucy crosses the apartment and takes her hand, squeezing it lightly.
“Kate, I do feel like this is my home.”
She sees Kate’s lips twitch into a small smile. “You do?”
Lifting herself onto her tiptoes, Lucy kisses her lightly. “I do.”
Those two words remind Lucy of her plan and they spark an idea.
“I’m gonna go put some clothes on and then you can show me the paint samples, okay?”
“Okay,” Kate says with a resolute nod.
Lucy retreats into the bedroom and pulls on a pair of sweatpants and an old Navy t-shirt, going into her bottom drawer and slipping the jewellery box into her pocket. When she goes back into the apartment, Kate has the sample paint swatches lined up on a bench, all pastel colours – greens and blues and yellows that match the rest of the decor.
“You know, before we get started, I’m really craving a green smoothie from the juice bar down the road. Would you mind popping out and getting me one? I’m pretty tired after working all week.”
She uses her most pitiful voice and it works. She can’t help but smile as Kate rushes out of the apartment, promising to be back as soon as possible. Once she is alone, Lucy chooses a soft blue paint and turns towards the wall that Kate has gifted to her, getting to work on her new plan.
Kate arrives home ten minutes later, a smoothie in each hand.
“They’d run out of the green smoothie,” she says, flustered as she enters the apartment. “So I got you the…”
She stops in her tracks when she sees Lucy’s handiwork on the wall. Lucy smiles and beckons her over. Placing the smoothies on the kitchen counter, Kate walks over to her in a daze.
“What…?”
“You said I could do whatever I wanted with the wall,” Lucy reminds her.
Behind her, written in thick blue paint, are the words ‘Kate Whistler, will you marry me?’.
Kate doesn’t speak, too dumbstruck. Lucy’s body isn’t quite ready for her to get down on one knee so she simply pulls the box from her pocket and opens it, holding it out between them and looking up at Kate.
“Will you?” she asks softly.
She has been so confident that Kate will say yes, but as soon as the words are out she suddenly feels nervous as she waits for her reply. Thank God it comes quickly, a wide smile spreading across Kate’s face as she closes the gap between them.
“Yes, Lucy! Yes, I will marry you.”
And just as quickly, her hands are cupping Lucy’s face, guiding their lips together in a deep kiss. Desperate to put the ring on Kate’s finger, she wriggles out of the embrace, laughing as she takes the ring out of its box and slides it carefully onto Kate’s ring finger.
“It’s beautiful,” Kate says, admiring the delicate carving in the white gold band and the small diamonds that adorn it.
“So are you,” Lucy gushes. “I love you, Kate.”
Kate leans down and kisses her again, resting her forehead against Lucy’s.
“I love you too.”
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BALLERINA - Chapter Eight.
A Jake Kiszka AU
Physiotherapist!Jake x Original Female Character
Previous Chapter.
A/N: I had to cut the chapter that I had previously planned, so this is quite short.
Please, feel free to let me know what you think about this!
Word count: 1.4K
Warnings for this chapter: none, kissing and fluff.
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They gathered their things and exited his studio.
It was still raining lightly outside and the temperature had significantly dropped since the afternoon.
She sunk further into the hoodie he had given her to stop shivering from the wind.
He handed her an umbrella, but right before closing the main door, he received a phone call.
He answered and, after a few seconds, muttered a low curse and hung up.
"Iris, I am so sorry but I have to go check my house. I have just received a notification from my alarm system and I am afraid that my idiot brother may have left one of the windows open during the storm. Do you mind if we go to my house and order something from there, while I check if everything is alright?" He asked her, defeated.
Iris honestly didn't mind and she told him it was ok for her.
He closed the door and jumped under the umbrella with her.
He led her to his car just around the corner and opened the door for her.
She climbed inside and handed him the umbrella.
He rounded the car and climbed into the driver's seat with a huff of breath.
The sky was dark even though it was only 8 pm and occasional thunders could be heard far away, still.
Lightning illuminated the wet pavement with cold flashes of light that made her shiver a little.
He put the car in drive and smiled briefly at her, turning the warm AC on.
Then, he placed a warm hand on her thigh and watched the road carefully, avoiding broken tree branches and the deep holes into the pavement,
caused by the heavy rain.
His house wasn't that far away from hers, she noticed.
But it was a bit more on the outskirts.
When they arrived, she observed that it was a beautiful white detached house with a lot of trees all around.
He opened the gate with a remote control and did the same with the garage.
Once inside, Iris exited the car and followed him up the stairs carefully.
Once on the landing, she was finally able to take in the absolute coziness and elegance of the house.
In front of her, he stopped with his arms spread wide in a theatrical gesture.
"Welcome to the Kiszka's den" he said and switched the lights on, making the space glow like the bright morning sun.
The walls were white but decorated with many framed pictures, paintings and what looked like old film posters everywhere.
The first floor was a beautiful open space consisting of a lovely enormous dark wood kitchen and a living room with a big tv, a large emerald green sofa and an enormous bookshelf that took up an entire wall.
Iris audibly gasped at it, gaining a big smile from him.
In the living room there were also three emerald green armchairs that looked very comfortable.
In one corner, there was an elegant black grand piano and, next to it, on the wall, there were two acoustic guitars, a black one and a light brown one.
Iris recognised the black one as the one that Jake had played the night she had first kissed him.
She bit her bottom lip, thinking about the feeling of his soft lips against hers and remembering how his elegant fingers plucked at the chords.
The entire wooden floor was littered with many potted plants and the room was surrounded by many windows. The one next to the piano was wide open, with its long white curtains billowing in the chilly post-storm wind.
He spotted it too and cursed under his breath, approaching it to assess the real damage.
She followed him but her attention was captured by a picture on the wall.
It showed four boys hugging and smiling wide at the camera on a sunny beach.
She recognised Jake as the one on the right, his long hair was swept around his face by the wind. In the middle there was another boy with long dark hair. His features were very similar to Jake's but he was a few inches taller. He had one arm around the shoulders of another tall boy, with strong but sweet features and long dark curly hair. It was obvious that he wasn't related to the others, but it was clear to her by the happiness conveyed by the picture that they were really close. On the other side of the picture there was another boy. He had a head of unruly curls and a wonderful smile that reminded her a lot of Jake's.
She jumped when she felt Jake's presence behind her, his hand on the middle of her back.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry" She quickly apologised.
"No need to be sorry," he said and she could hear the smile in his voice.
He pointed to the picture and started explaining.
"This one is my little brother Sam, the one who broke my arm" he said, chuckling.
She remembered the story he had told her about that accident and laughed.
"This one is our best friend Daniel, he is like a brother to us" he said, pointing at the tallest boy with long curly hair.
Then his finger moved to the right side of the picture where the smiling boy with curly hair was.
"And this one," he chuckled, shaking his head, "this one is Josh, my idiot twin brother who left the window open during a hell of a storm" he said with fondness in his voice, despite his irritation.
"Oh my God, you have a twin!" Iris said out loud before she could stop herself.
Now the realization dawned on her. That's why Josh's smile reminded her so much of
Jake's.
"We are identical twins, but sometimes people think that Sam is my twin. If you look closely you can see the resemblance but many people are misled by the hair." He answered, chuckling at her enthusiasm, while untangling his locks with his fingers.
They got stuck in a messy knot, making him hiss.
Iris started to help him but this brought her very close to him, again.
His eyes captured hers and before she knew it she was pressed against the wall, his mouth soft and warm on hers, while both of her hands were still in his hair.
The kiss deepened instantly and she tugged at his locks making him hiss.
His tongue swirling slowly against hers was intoxicating.
She already needed more even though, not even one hour ago, she was in the same position.
They were interrupted by a freezing gust of wind that reminded them that the window was still open and the floor under it was a big puddle, shining every now and then with flashes of distant lightning.
They separated with heaving chests, his eyes hastily leaving hers.
The hunger in them was making her weak at the knees.
He whispered a light sorry and disappeared for a minute.
She tried to heaven out her breathing before he returned.
He came back with towels, rags and a bucket and started drying the floor.
Despite his complaints, she helped him, wiping the floor and wringing rags into the bucket till there wasn't any more water left.
Then, she helped him take down the soaked curtains framing the now closed window, carrying them in the laundry alongside the rags.
Once they were finished they sat together on the couch and decided to order pizza for dinner.
The food arrived pretty quickly and they ate together, while he kept telling her funny anecdotes about his three brothers.
He switched on the tv and started looking for something to watch.
After a while, they agreed on watching "The Lord of the Rings", despite having already seen it so many times.
Distant rumbles of thunder could be heard, but, for the first time in ages, Iris felt relaxed like she had never felt while in the company of someone.
She was laying on her side and Jake was behind her enveloping her in his arms with a soft blanket over their bodies, and their legs intertwined.
The main lights were off. The feeble light in the room was provided by little vanilla scented tealights scattered all around and the TV screen.
After a while, like the weather forecast had announced, the storm was slowly approaching again.
She could hear the wind whistling as the dark clouds became closer and closer.
The TV signal stopped working so Jake had to turn it off.
At the same time, a loud roll of thunder startled Iris and she wiggled closer to his body.
"I think we have to find another way to entertain ourselves tonight, darling" he whispered with a sultry voice into her ear, making an anticipation shiver run down her spine.
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Next chapter
Taglist: @gvfpal @sammyslappers @jessicafg03 @spark-my-nature @hellowgoodbye @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @doodle417 @jaketlover @ejoygvf @jakekiszkasbabymama
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kafus · 7 months
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a quick roundup of some other stuff i've done in platinum because i stopped liveposting and was focused on playing lol
i defeated the grunts in the eterna city team galactic building and it wasn't difficult or anything but it was interesting to confront this part of the game again since it's been a while and i'm rusty
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the galactic grunts obviously don't understand the extent of cyrus' plans to literally destroy and remake the universe, just that by doing all this evil shit they're supposedly going to find a new energy source with the power of pokemon evolution etc and make a better world that way. it's similar ish vibes to team plasma - a lot of them although misguided and stealing pokemon and generally being shitty seem to think that their boss genuinely has a bright vision for the future that they're helping serve... their headquarters literally has a poster on the wall telling them not to question what's happening and to just follow the path laid out for them. it kind of reads similar to real life cults instilling a fear of apocalypse in their followers - not quite that drastic since its pokemon, but who wants to be left out of a new, better world?
anyways team galactic analysis aside, jupiter was easy to defeat because pepper is cracked
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it's interesting to me how much clefairy is idolized because it supposedly came from the moon in so many pokemon games? i didn't take pictures but the cycle shop guy here mentions that jupiter wanted the clefairy because the moon or space or whatever, and while that makes even more sense in this game because team galactic... space... matching themes... man clefairy is just everywhere lol there's been romanticism of space in pokemon since the very beginning in kanto (and that's not even mentioning you know, pokemon like deoxys and jirachi and whatever)
after this i backtracked and took care of a few things (like the old chateau which i just posted about)
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i got the togepi egg from cynthia and hatched it. i love how in platinum cynthia just kind of appears throughout the story as this mysterious kind woman. i know she's remembered for her tough as nails champion fight and that sure as hell makes her memorable but i think it helps that she's around before that as well
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i backtracked and got the captivate TM from this... random creepy woman in the woods?? what the fuck were they thinking putting this here. i forgot this was a thing until i was backtracking to check for cut trees now that i have access to cut post-fighting gardenia. Whyy JDFSKSFD
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lastly i checked my honey trees since i've been playing for so long i had a few ready... i decided not to reset for female combee since i'm going to be playing this game a while, might as well try to let it naturally spawn before i SR for it. i also got a wurmple from another tree but i forgot to take a picture lol
anyways i'm probs gonna clear out the trainers on cycling road and catch some guys on the route below and then stop for tonight bc i have a doctor's appointment tomorrow
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