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unholyhelbig · 2 months

Note

request: oversight au, nat and reader run into reader’s ex or ronnie’s father who was abusive to them… how will mob nat react?

Title: Old Flames [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When reader has an unexpected run-in with an old flame and things go less than well, Natasha takes things into her own hands.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): Talks of past domestic abuse, talks of abortion, buried alive references, broken glass, blood (always), Heights, threatening statements, non-consensual kiss, horrible grammar (aways).

[a/n: Okay, I had way too much fun with this. While I loved writing the main story, it's also super great to branch out into some more dynamics with Mob Boss Nat, because I haven't made her mean enough yet.]

Check out the full Oversight universe

The apartment building on the corner of twelfth and Hawke was a large midcentury brick building that structure that stretched to the sky. A metal fire escape latticed up the side and stretched clotheslines dripping with shirts and pants connected it to the adjacent building that had long since been used for storage.

Up until this point, you had avoided this building. Luckily, the tenants were quite timely with their rent and left little need for an enforcer to knock door to door. But it was right after the holidays and things were tough. That much, you understood. But it didn’t’ change the fact that three units were more than two months behind on their rent.

Them, you could appeal to with hot chocolate and some gentle urging. But according to Clint, there was a particularly nasty group of people living on the top floor that had gotten multiple noise complaints thrown their way.

The address hadn’t seemed familiar until you stood at the entrance and got a good look at the golden door that contrasted the rest of the structure. You’d written the code to the door on your palm, and you were having trouble differentiating the last number. It was a zero, or it was an eight.

“Gross, you’re sweaty.” Kate had pulled your hand a small distance from her scrutinizing stare, trying to read the smeared purple markings. “I knew we should have used the napkin.”

The woman dropped your hand and stepped up to the small box on the side of the entryway. She hit every button known to man until the fragile voice cracked through the speaker. “Yeah, uh-huh, pizza. I have pizza. Pepperoni-“Her ramblings were cut off by the loud buzz in.

You were treated to an innocent smile as she wrenched open the door and allowed you to follow her in. She was innovative, annoyingly so. Most of the time it worked in your favor but sometimes you found her testing your temper just to prove a point. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed your hesitation.

It was coming back to you now; the large entryway that was lined with lock and key mail slots and a bolstered wooden staircase that was scarcely used compared to the elevator. Natasha kept good care of the place, had repainted and made sure every single lightbulb was humming in synch.

Some would say that she improved the neighborhood, block by block. But there were still those who liked the way things used to be; living paycheck to paycheck with an angry and withering stare being sent your way with each collection call.

“I’ve got Miss Henderson.”

“Oh, come on.” You protested “She sounds so cool.”

Miss Henderson was an older woman who lived on the fifth floor. Most of the time, her rent was late because it had simply slipped her mind. One look at Kate and she’d write a check before offering some of the sweetest cookies you’d ever tasted, often sending her back with a plateful.

From what you had heard, she used to travel with a circus as an acrobatic performer. Her act was death-defying; a performance that relied on her partners quick bladework. The Swordsman and his Enchantress. There were illustrations of their travels hung up around her unit- ones that you would kill to see.

“Too bad, next time.” Kate mock pouted at you before clapping you on the back. “Don’t make too much of a mess up on the top floor, alright? I don’t want to scrub carpets today.”

She took the stairs two at a time and left you alone in the lobby. A cool blast of wind hit your back as a tenant walked in with their dalmatian, pink tongue lolling to the side as his owner checked the mail, barely sparing you a glance.

The type of New York residents that occupied this space had changed greatly. The last time you’d been here was a walk of shame that left your feet raw and bleeding. You’d rushed from the apartment with so much fever that you never returned for your shoes, or your dignity, for that matter.

This time, you had shoes on, ones that you had scrubbed free of blood until they looked presentable. They were leaden on the stairs up to the top floor. Once you reached the fifth, you could hear Kate’s distinctive laugh behind the oak door. At least she was close.

The top floor was nearly silent. You could hear a television, a hockey game that you’d been listening to sparingly on the way over here. It sounded like Toronto was pulling through. The sound of a beer cracking pulled you away from the muffled announcers words.

A radio was resting in an upper window. You and Kate had heard it from the street below, a French Pop station that you could barely make out the words of. French was never your strong suite, one language requirement in high school was enough for you.

Silently, you prayed, that it was a coincidence. That the radio didn’t’ belong to the very men that you were meant to speak to. They were flighty, you told yourself. They weren’t ones to stay and if they chose to stick around after all these years- well, you’d be impressed.

You knocked twice on the center door, the deep forest-green paint threatening to chip under the elements. The music stopped abruptly, and while you could hear that someone was whispering quietly in French, you couldn’t make out the words.

The man that opened the door was too familiar for your liking; his pale waxy skin, his deep brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black, the tattoos that were smattered in different designs against his throat, down his collarbone. Pockmarked on his arms. His hair was longer than you remembered, greasier and tied up in a bun.

He took you in for a singular moment, shock reflecting in his stare, but before he moved to shut the door. You stopped the action with one strong hand, putting your boot between the frame and the wood for extra measure. “Don’t be like that, Kazi.”

“All these years, and now you’re coming back for child support?”

He raked his eyes up and down your body in a way that made you feel violated. You held your stance. He seemed impressed by the bout of strength.

You tsked “if I wanted child support, I would have gone after it by now. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

He scratched under the sleeve of his tank-top, considering you the same way you considered him. Eventually, he seemed to figure he had nothing to lose pulling the door back and letting you enter the apartment. Waves of memory washed over you.

Kazi still had the same futon covered in the same ratty blanket. There was a kitchen table that was stacked with different folders that he would never, in a million years, let you view. A blue funnel was drying on the dishrack, and countless liquor bottles that had been emptied and cleaned were lined up, ready to be filled with the slightest bit of homebrewed alcohol.

He was still running the same scam after all of these years. You remembered liking the danger about him, the way his stubble felt against you when you straddled him. He’d been so alluring to a good girl like you. He would street race at night with another guy you’d met a handful of times, Robbie Reyes.

God, you had been so naive back then. He was drawn in by your innocence and you were entrapped by his experience. If only you knew where you’d end up in seven years; with Kazi’s biological daughter being raised by the most powerful woman in the city.

The moment you told him you were pregnant, he told you bluntly to get rid of it. That same night, he’d thrown an empty liquor bottle at you, just barely missing your head. You’d refused outright and accepted his anger in turn. Glass shards cut into the soles of your feet, and stained the snow all the way back to your dorm room.

The way he stared at you now infuriated you. “What do you want, then?”

“You’re two months late on rent.”

“I figured you’d keep tabs. Most women do. But my rent? That’s a new one.”

You picked up a small paperweight that you remember being fond of when you returned to this apartment after a first date where Kazi was a perfect gentleman. He’d bought dinner, and walked you back to his place. The glass object was tinted yellow, a small mosquito suspended in the center. He must have gotten it in a museum gift shop.

“Truthfully, I’m shocked you still live here.” You tested the weight of the object. “Most landlords aren’t very lenient about tardiness.”

“Yeah, well. She’s not very attentive. What can I say?”

Oh, but Natasha was quite attentive in more than one aspect, at that. You couldn’t’ help the smile that spread against your lips. Kazi was growing agitated with your presence, always quick to temper.

With all the strength you could muster, you threw the paperweight at the wall directly behind him. In its innate cheapness, it shattered into a million pieces, littering the carpet and slicing little bites into his skin. Kazi flinched and covered his face with his arms.

“Fuck! Y/n, what the hell!” He screamed.

“You have two weeks to backdate the rent, Kazi. Another week to get us this month’s amount. That sounds reasonable to me. Attentive, even.”

He reached into the back of his sweatpants and pulled out a silver Kimber, pumping the top chamber and aiming it at you with a shaky hand. He was too lax with his hold. A pinprick of crimson was dripping from a cut on his cheek.

“Come on, Kazi. It’s not the end of the world. I’m sure you can push some half-rate liquor. Sell a few of your gold fillings, and come up with the money my employer is required.”

“Employer? You work for that… monster?”

“Now, there’s a big word.” You closed the distance between the two of you, not giving him a moment to react before you wrenched the gun from his hand and threw it onto that ratty old blanket that adorned the futon he’d found on the side of the road. “So much horrible implication behind it too. You shouldn’t name call.”

Your boots crunched against the shattered glass. Kazi was barefoot, he flinched as flesh was dug into by uneven shards. You could smell the rancid coffee on his breath. He had a mole just on small of his nose.

“What happened to you?” he whispered, “Where’s that girl that stormed out of my apartment because she didn’t get her way?”

“A lot can change in seven years, Kaz.” You glanced around his apartment. “Well, most people change. Some people don’t go anywhere in life.”

Kazi pressed forward, his dry lips suddenly against yours. You froze in an instant, appalled by the acrid taste of cigarettes and stale morning coffee that he had no-doubt heated up in the microwave and drank black. The kiss was strong, rushed and painful in the way that his teeth knocked against yours.

It took less than a second for you to push him away. His head hit the cabinet behind it, rattling the glasses inside. Your hand was splayed out on his chest, nails digging into the stained tank-top he wore. He grinned wolfishly at you. Your teeth had dug so hard into his lip that it drew blood.

“I like this rough version of you, sweetheart. It’s hot.”

You reeled back and slapped him across the face with as much force as you could muster in your close proximity. The radio in the window seemed to flicker out of power at that moment, or maybe they had just run out of shitty pop music to play. Either way, the two of you were engulfed in silence.

“Shit, baby, hit me again!”

He had no idea how much you wanted to abide by that, though, you were quite positive that it would do nothing but spur on his arousal. This wasn’t going to work. If he kept pushing the way he was, you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from pulling your own weapon.

It suddenly became too much, standing in the middle of this time-capsule of an apartment. The memories were too strong. When the two of you were together, everything you did was for his benefit. And while this had been fun at first, testing him like this, it was too much.

You grabbed the collar of his sweat-soiled shirt, wrapping it around your fingers with enough force to tear the fabric away. “Two weeks, you fucking asshole. If you don’t have the money by then, I’m sure the city will have a fun time scrubbing your brain matter from the sidewalk.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He sneered.

You pressed your booted foot down on the top of his, listening as the glass dug deeper into the soft skin. This time, he did cry out in pain, the grinding of pieces close to bone making his eyes water. You placed your hand over his mouth, muffling his protest. “I will make your miserable existence a living hell, with or without the money, for what you did to me. Do you understand?”

“You’re so full of shit-“ you pressed your full weight down and you squirmed under your hold. “Yes! Yes, I get it. Fuck!”

You pulled yourself away from Kazi entirely, straightening his shirt. He was slumped against the counter, staring at you with pure rage in his eyes. He shifted his full weight to his other foot, grimacing at the edged stain on the wooden floor.

“You should really clean that up.” You gritted, mouth still tasting of stale smoke. “Glass can be dangerous, Kazimirez.”

By the time you got to the car the only thing on your mind was taking the hottestshower possible. You’d pawed through Kate’s glovebox rather frantically and counted it a small blessing that that there was a single unwrapped piece of gum at the very bottom.

She cringed as you popped it in your mouth and let the minty dusty taste coat your tongue. If you could, without raising suspicion, you would have dumped solvent on it, just to take the taste of Kazi out of your mouth.

“I don’t know how long that’s been in there.” Kate said, watching you warily as you picked up her water bottle and downed half of that too. It seemed to take the rest of the rancid flavor away.

“I don’t care”

“You should care, I bought this car used.” She frowned, tapping her fingers against the wheel. “Okay, I didn’t’ buy it. I bought the license plates though, that’s my civic duty.”

Her words were enough for you to roll your window down and toss the gum from it. Despite your profession, you weren’t a very good liar. Not when it came to Natasha. She’d ask you about your day like usual and you’d crumble under her seemingly innocent gaze.

Nothing Natasha did was innocent.

“What happened up there?” Kate asked.

The two of you were well out of the city by now, and still had about a half-hour until you got to the mansion. The family liked their privacy, and after a year of living there permanently, so did you.

When you didn’t answer right away, she kept going. “Because I got cookies. Nearly choked on one when Miss Henderson insisted on a private show. It’s seriously a wonder that a woman her age can still bend like that.”

“Katie,” You warned, “Gross.”

“Impressive actually. She kept her clothes on, which I am eternally grateful for. It looks like you had a more eventful visit with the French dudes upstairs.” She scoffed, “Who the fuck is French anymore?”

You rolled your eyes and slumped further into your seat. Kazi was French. You used to crumble when he gave you the choppiest lines that he could remember. According to him, the language is harder to speak than it is to read and write. You never questioned him, just like you didn’t question a lot of things.

“I have a… history with the man who rents 807.”

“A history, or a… history?”

“The first one. The second one. Shit- I don’t know, both! He’s Ronnie’s dad.”

Kate slammed on the brakes with enough force for a layer of rubber to be peeled from the tires of her mostly stolen care. The seatbelt cut into your neck and you figured yourself lucky that you’d taken a back road that was rarely used, god forbid she cause an accident.

“Dude!” You shouted as she put the car into park.

Kate twisted her entire body in the seat, placing her hand on the back of your seat. The motor was sputtering wildly, trying to compensate for her abrupt stop. Something had to be damaged, you thought, with her force on the pedal.

“Don’t dude me. Are you really that dense? If you haven’t noticed, Natasha is possessive over her things. And you? Well, you’re one of her favorite things. She’s not going to take this well in the slightest.”

“Kate, I think I know how to handle my girlfriend.”

“No, you know how to handle Natasha, the sweet, loving woman who would die for you and your child. Admirable, really. But you don’t know how to handle Miss Romanoff, mob boss extraordinaire.”

But you had seen Natasha in action before, countless times. She’d always kept this calm coolness about her that you were in awe of. Maybe Kate was right. You’d only seen a fraction of her jealous side at the first party you had ever attended in the house. That night she ripped the dress she’d picked out specifically for you to shreds.

“I was dating a man named Eli when I was first taken in by the Romanoff’s, He turned out to be… not so favorable despite my constant reassurances. Natasha just knows. She had him dig a grave right off I-25 and then she made him lay in it.”

Your jaw threatened to drop at the simple fact. Kate removed her hand from the back of the seat and eased off the brake before she slowly got the two of you back up to an acceptable speed.

“All Eli did was cheat on me one night in a club. It wasn’t great, but I wasn’t sure if it warranted that kind of reaction. I never knew if she was proving a point to me, or to Eli. Either way, the smallest offense against any of us is met with archaic conviction.”

You didn’t respond to Kate, instead you stared at the trees that were whizzing by in a lush green wall of color. You’d decided that she was right- any type of reaction Natasha was going to have to Kazi would be severe.

“You’ll be fine.” Kate tapped her fingers nervously on the wheel, trying to backtrack her words. “As long as he didn’t’ touch you.”

It didn’t seem to matter how ferociously you scrubbed your skin with the honey scented soap you shared with Natasha, you swore you still smelled like smoke. It clung to your clothes, and lingered in the air after you’d shoved them to the bottom of the clothes basket.

The water was blazingly hot, filling the bathroom with a thick mist that made it slow to breathe. Natasha had chosen a dark blue tile that seemed to transport you into another world. Even without the scaring remembrance of Kazi’s lips against yours, his hands where you didn’t want them, you could stay here for hours.

Her hands were freezing cold and startling as they splayed against your naked stomach. You let out a small noise, going rigid before registering Natasha behind you. Her front was pressed against your back, and you’d know the curve of her body anywhere.

“Izvinite, moya lyubov', I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You turned in her arms and took in the state of her. She’d stripped down just as you had, small drops of water littering her skin like a constellation in the sky. She’d been in the sun today, a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose giving her away.

There was a bruise forming against the side of her jaw, one that you ran your waterlogged fingers over. Her eyes were an intoxicating shade of green, playing off the indigo tiles. You wanted to scold her for getting the bruise in the first place, but you were so entrapped by her simple presence, the way she fit so perfectly against you.

Natasha closed the distance between you both, pressing her lips against yours in a hurried kiss. You moaned into the embrace, allowing her tongue to find purchase in your mouth. God- you had missed her in the short few hours you’d been apart.

“Did you take up smoking?” she asked, barely pulling away, the words were spoken flushed to your lips. “It’s a terrible habit, darling.”

The glovebox gum hadn’t done its job, and apparently the swish of mouthwash and subsequent teeth brushing hadn’t done anything either. Of course, Natasha noticed. Of course. You weren’t going to try to hide it, though the thought did occur to you to save some heartache. But you were hoping you could placate her in a less slippery spot of the house when you were less naked and incredibly turned on by her presence.

A groan of a different cadence than she was used to escaped you as you dropped your head to her shoulder and clenched your eyes shut. “No, I didn’t take up smoking.”

“You taste like you have,” She gently led your eyes to hers. It was tender compared to the first time she had done so. “Licking ash trays again?”

“Gross, no.”

Natasha valued honesty above all. That much had been clear from the moment you met her. She’d nearly taken your head off in the gym when you repeated your one-night-stand with the enemy. The devil incarnate who happened to only be decent in bed. You remembered her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough for you to give her the answers she craved.

“What is it, pet? You can tell me.”

“Do you… I’ve been with men before.”

She let out a small chuckle that reverberated off the deep tile. “Yes, I know. I didn’t want to make assumptions, of course, but Ronnie does have a father.”

The way you stared at her in the silence that followed the statement made the smile on her face falter until it dropped entirely. She must have seen something behind your eyes, something that weighed the situation down more than she was intending on a typical Wednesday night.

“I’d completely blacked it out and didn’t realize it until I stepped foot into the lobby, but he still lives in the same apartment on the top floor. He thought I was after child support, or something but things sort of… escalated.”

You felt like a child, spilling your secrets about a vase you had broken. This time it was a cheap paperweight with a bug in the center that you frankly felt bad for. The words came out like emotional vomit, granted, Natasha had become used to your rapid admissions.

Her grip tightened against your chin, “Escalated how?”

“He kissed me, and I hit him hard enough to break his jaw.”

That same silence enveloped you again. The scalding water had lost its effect, numb and beating against your back. The two of you were still impossibly close and there wasn’t much escape for you in a shower this size. The glass door having fogged up and only giving you a stunted view of the large bathroom.

Natasha had an immeasurable rage behind her stare, her lidded expression ran as dark as old blood. It chilled you to your core. She reached beside you and shut off the constant flow of water. You’d been in here for about an hour now and the cold air that touched your skin felt like an assault of needles. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your center to preserve warmth.

“He laid his hands on you.”

“Yeah, Nat, he did.”

“He touched you.”

“I gave him hell for it, but it didn’t seem like it was enough.”

“Without permission.”

“He’ll never do it again.”

Whatever split-second decision she made; it was done without the usual calculation behind her eyes. She threw the door to the shower open and forcefully shoved a towel into your arms. While you revered in the warmth, you watched as she sauntered in her usual way out of the bathroom and into your shared bedroom. She was dripping wet.

“Natty!” You stumbled over the partition and nearly slid on the bathroom floor. It was much colder outside of your cocoon of warmth and subsequent mist. She thankfully hadn’t left the room and was pawing through her side of the dresser. You nearly lost your footing once you reached hardwood. “Fuck,”

She seemed to find what she was looking for, a plain black tank top that hugged her sides and looked entirely uncomfortable to wiggle into while damp. You watched with baited breath in a sloping towel as she adorned herself with underwear and pants, before turning towards you.

“Get dressed.” She ordered in a dangerous tone.

Shit. She was going to make you dig your own grave. You’d just showered all of the grime from Kazi’s apartment off and in a matter of minutes you would have dirt up to your knees. Natasha may have let Eli live after his blunder, but maybe she’d cover you completely and let you suffocate in your own efforts.

Numbly, you put on a pair of sweatpants and the closest shirt you had. There was no need to get dressed for your own funeral, you supposed. The worms would chew through whatever you wore regardless.

Clint was stretched out on the chase in the foyer, a pair of thick-lensed glasses balancing on the tip of his nose. Regardless, he still squinted at the book in his hands. You wondered why he wasn’t in the living room, but caught a glimpse of a particularly intense game of twister between Ronnie, Yelena, and Kate.

Darcy held onto the board, flicking the small plastic needle and calling out the colors. When Kate clocked the anger in Natasha’s eyes, she dropped to her back, taking down Yelena and Ronnie with her.

She gave you a pleading look, but you were already too far gone to return anything other than a flushed expression. You followed obediently after Natasha. She opened the front door and watched you with a calculated expression before slamming the front door hard enough to shake the glass fronting.

“Get in the car.”

“Do you want me to grab a shovel?”

“What?”

She contemplated this for a minute, growling softly. The near silence was terrifying. Her arms crossed over her chest was terrifying. Your mouth with incredibly dry, and you wished that you were back under the constant stream of water.

“No. I don’t think we’ll need that. Get in the car.”

Numbly, you did as you were told, placing your hands in your lap. This was quite possibly the last time you would be sitting in any car, much less, next to Natasha. She reached across you and pulled your seatbelt into place, tugging on the upper portion until she was sure you weren’t going anywhere.

The tires picked up traction on the gravel and the drive that usually took an hour seemed to whiz by. Natasha was quiet, the route to the city more than familiar by now. She run her hands against the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. You could hear her breathing deeply, trying to ease her nerves. You didn’t dare say a word.

For a moment, you figured that she’d abandoned the idea of burying you alive and switched her ideals to something much more sinister and public. She pulled her car up to the front of the very building you had left a few hours ago, the sun just barely setting behind the skyline. You blinked at her, and then up at the very property that she owned.

“Come on.”

There was no room for discussion. The air here was clouded with the scent of smoke and the coolness of the cement structures around you. It was moments like these where you much preferred the country.

Of course, Natasha knew the code, she had recited it to you earlier as you and Kate ate lunch by the docks, stretched out on the hood of her car. It was wrong then and your nerves were too elevated to pay attention now. She got in without the theatrics.

There seemed to be more activity as the day for working folks began to wind down. Two people halted their conversation by the mail-slots, nodding solemnly at the woman. On the third floor, you caught a glimpse of a woman struggling to push her keys into the lock, juggling her gym bag. The sixth floor held a small boy who darted from one apartment to another, edging across the hall.

She kept climbing until that same irritating French pop filled your ears. He must keep it on at all hours of the day, just to drown out his own miserable thoughts. “What apartment?”

You lifted your chin slightly, hands shoved in the pockets of your sweatpants to ward off the biting chill. “807.”

“Spasibo, lyubimyy.”

Natasha’s booted foot connected with the center of the very door you had politely knocked on earlier in the day. You flinched, covering your face with a guarded arm. The wood of the doorframe seemed to splinter, slivers reigning across both sides of the entrance.

“What the fuck!”

Kazi was hunched over the kitchen table, the funnel that had been drying by the sink was positioned perfectly in the mouth of a soaked and peeled liquor bottle. He had a stack of his own labels ready to place evenly on the finished product. Both of his feet were haphazardly wrapped with gauze, small sprouts of blood worming through the soft material.

He’d taken care to clean up the glass, but with the way Natasha headed straight towards him, that didn’t matter much. More of it fell to the floor and shattered upon impact. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and started walking him backwards across the living room. Kazi seemed too stunned to speak, his words caught in his throat.

“I-I-I didn’t mean it! Please!”

“When you speak to me, you’ll do it clearly.” She gritted, shoving him towards the window. Somewhere in the scuffle, the radio had fallen from its perch on the cracked windowsill, crashing to the alleyway below with one last fizzled cry. “You had no trouble saying whatever you wanted earlier, did you?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck! I told that bitch I would have the rent!”

“Yeah? Was that before or after you shoved your tongue down her throat?”

Natasha bent Kazi’s torso fully over the screenless window. He grasped frantically at her hands, clawing at them as the balanced him over the long drop to the pavement below. His bare feet kicked, trying to throw her off her equilibrium, but he was much too weak for any type of damage.

“You walked out on them.”

“What? Oh, my god, what?! I told her to get rid of it- I didn’t walk out on anyone! You’re batshit lady!”

To you, it didn’t’ seem very wise to throw insults at the woman holding you above an eight-story drop, but Kazi never was known for his intelligence. His bravado, maybe, but never anything more. He looked so small compared to Natasha’s anger.

“She didn’t get rid of it, Kazi. She kept the kid that you couldn’t have bothered to give another thought to. She made a life for both of them. She fucking loves that kid enough to fill the absence you left.” Natasha let her hand slip, letting him waver in his height for a moment before pulling him back up. He was crying, sobbing for his life. “And you have the nerve, to touch her, to break her and then come rushing back when she was strong enough to pick up the pieces?”

“I wasn’t ready,” he moaned out “I couldn’t be a dad.”

“It seems like there are a lot of things you can’t do, doesn’t it? You’re a pathetic excuse for a man. A pathetic excuse for a human being and once we leave here- I never want to see your face in my city again. Am I clear?”

Kazi let out another course of intelligible, wet, words. His back was nearly breaking under the force of Natasha’s hold, her knee directly up against his crotch, pushing down with all the strength she could muster.

“Y/n, I think this is a teaching moment, don’t you?”

The softness of her words as she addressed you caught you off guard. There was no malice. In fact, she beckoned to you as if she was calling you into the living room to join her under the blankets for a movie. Your heart raced fast enough for your chest to ache as you closed the distance between you both.

“See, the trick is making them think that you’re going to let them go.”

She said this to you as if Kazi wasn’t a slobbering mess under her touch. He’d carved little half-moon marks against the tops of her hand, some of them starting to leak blood with the sheer force of his struggle.

“You have to get creative with the fear aspect. If they think they’re going to die, it tends to work in our favor. Doesn’t it, Kazi?”

“Please,” He whimpered, “I’ll do whatever you want. I’m sorry, y/n, I’m sorry.”

Natasha did the seemingly impossible, she pushed him further out the window, his calves struggling for purchase against the drywall. “Oh, now that simply won’t do. You must keep her name out of your mouth.”

“In situations like these, darling, it’s best to keep full control. If he was anything other than wretched, then maybe you’d have to worry about him fighting back. You’ll get some people like that, but that trick is having leverage, literal and physical in cases like this.”

“I see,” You let the words escape you in a single breath “and how long do we play this game?”

“Until they know it’s not one.”

It took little effort for Natasha to push Kazi the rest of the way out the window. In spite of his clinging grip, the force of gravity was enough to do the work for her. His cry stunted in his throat and it only took a few seconds for a dull thud to echo through the alleyway, followed by the unmistakable sound of a car alarm going off.

With a small gasp, you leaned over the window yourself, staring down at the white Toyota that now had a sizeable dent in the top, the windshield spiderwebbing. Kazi let out a groan that you could hear from up here, blinking up at the sky with malice and shock in his eyes.

“Nat,” You breathed.

“Please, eight stories is survivable. Some people need to be taught a lesson.” She shrugged, pulling you back into the apartment by the sleeve of your shirt. “I’ll pay for the car repairs, if that makes you feel better, detka.”

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“Of course I did.” She reached forward and cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look at her. It was impossible to ignore the gesture, the words that she had said with so much blind passion. Tears threatened to overtake your waterline. “moya lyubov', he put his hands on you without permission and before that… before that he hurt you in ways unimaginable. I meant every word I said.”

You could hear sirens in the distance, a hazard of living in the city. They could be for Kazi, you supposed, something to take care of the surely broken ribs and the bruised ego. But, they could be for something more important.

You pushed forward and kissed Natasha delicately. You wanted to be impossibly close to her. Most gestures you had received in the past had come in the form of flowers, maybe the occasional box of chocolate from the drug store. Once again- Natasha had proved something to you.

Her chuckle vibrated into the kiss, “Mm, we should probably leave.”

You couldn’t agree more. You wanted to get out of this stupid apartment that was teeming with memories of your time with Kazi. The way he claimed his love for you, and forced you to make a horrible decision all in one exhale.

As the two of you walked down the long and winding steps, Natasha asked, “What was with the shovel thing?”

You laughed, suddenly feeling foolish for fearing Natasha in the first place. Her silence caused waves, and somehow, that was worse than if she’d threatened you outright, something that she never did with much heat.

“Kate, she told me about her ex-boyfriend, Eli, I think she said his name was.”

“Ah, Eli.” She frowned, “He cheated on her, and I only made him dig for an hour.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, as long as you never make me dig my own grave.”

“I would never do that. There is no punishment in things you can’t control.” Natasha gave your hand a squeeze, her solemn words punctuated with a slowly creeping smile. “Besides, detka, that’s simply not my style. It was much too messy.”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha ROmanoff x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x reader #Mafia au #Yelena Belova #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Reader insert #request

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calmcoldevening · 1 year

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Why did they want to keep you with them? (slashers x reader)

TW! Mention of rape and abuse

Michael Myers

• Michael came to your house to kill you.

• He was prevented by one scene: you were crying and screaming, trying to escape from the grip of your "boyfriend", who forcibly undressed you. Disgusting attempted rape.

• Michael lay low, watching you for a while, watching your pleas and futile attempts to escape. Your gaze reflected the pain of betrayal. This was different from what Myers saw in the eyes of his victims during the murders.

• You reminded him of his mother. Michael grew up around women, and he saw how his mother often cried at night after a particularly hard shift at "work". And although he didn't feel anything towards you at that moment, he understood that it was wrong.

• In place of you and this guy, Michael saw Deborah and Ronnie. And he couldn't stand this sofa imbecile. Such a vile, cruel and disgusting person is not worthy of life, right?

• When he was done with the guy, Myers came up to you and squatted down. You, clearly still on the verge of hysteria and loss of consciousness, clung to his shoulders, burying your face in a blue jumpsuit. Michael didn't know how to react, he didn't feel anything, but something inside was telling him to comfort.

• The voices behaved strangely. At any other time they would have said kill, but not now. And only the mother's voice stood out among this gray series of sounds: "Calm her, Michael."

Bubba Sawyer

• That day you were traveling with Sally, her brother and friends. You've been pretty distant. You were always stressed out by such noisy companies, but Pam begged you, as one of her best friends, to go with them.

• When a strange hitchhiker jumps into your van, you are attracted to his behavior. Why is he so jumpy? Sick in the head? Perhaps. Your fears are confirmed when he snatches a knife from Franklin and cuts open his hand. You look at his distraught face and run up to him, thinking how to stop the blood faster. After walking in for a while, you grab your backpack and take out bandages and some ointments that you bought earlier at the nearest pharmacy. As carefully as possible, you rub his palm and wrap a clean bandage on top. Nubbins, as you will find out later, looks at you with shock and incomprehension.

• When you become one of the Sawyers' victims, it becomes a choice who they want to put at the table as a guest during a dinner party. The choice falls on you and Sally.

• Nubbins immediately recognizes you and begins to actively tell his brothers something. Did you help Nubbins? Bubba is impressed. You didn't offend his brother, but on the contrary, you showed sympathy!

• Bubba is heading towards you (you and Sally are sitting on the infamous bone sofa). He touches your cheek with his thick finger, and you smile nervously. You're ready to cry from fear right now; your lips are trembling, but no tears are flowing. Bubba repeats his action, this time stroking your chin. He smacks his lips strangely from time to time; you can see his crooked teeth.

• To be honest, Nubbins and Drayton never understood why their brother left you, but he continued to be adamant, carefully taking you to his room. He untied your limbs only in the late afternoon, when he was sure he could keep an eye on you.

Vincent Sinclair

• You came to Ambrose and decided to go to the store for a snack. Bo immediately called out to you and offered to go to his house. The boy is cute, smiling — why not?

• When you entered the Sinclair house, you immediately realized that the guy, or guys, it seems he had brothers, had not had proper care and care for a long time: all the rooms were dusty, and the kitchen was littered with dirty dishes and empty boxes of instant food.

• Without thinking twice, you decided to first clear the space a little, and then concoct something in a hurry. In the end, Bo gave it the go-ahead.

• While you are washing the dishes, a strong blow is heard upstairs, and then Bo's angry screams. You hurriedly wipe your hands and almost run to the second floor. Slowly approaching the right room, you hear Bo's furious voice. "Fuck, couldn't you've been more careful, huh? Now she's definitely gonna run away, damn it. And all because of you, bastard!". Then there was a thud.

• You run into the room and see Bo towering over a long-haired guy. He fell on his ass and pressed his hands to his face. You rush to him and help him up. "Are you okay? What was that? Does anything hurt?" you shower the man with questions and only now notice that his face is wearing a mask.

• "Get away from him. And you, freak, move it. You don't want to get another slap in the face, do you?". You frown and stand in front of the guy, blocking him from Bo. You let the long-haired one lean on your shoulder. "Don't yell at him. Can't you see that he's sick?".

• The only thing Vincent can think about at this moment is how you protect him, not afraid to raise your voice to Bo, and what kind of affectionate and warm hands you have. You gently hold him by his broad back, and even through the mask he feels a pleasant scent of perfume. Maybe I shouldn't kill you?

Bo Sinclair

• You arrived in Ambrose with your friends. Although, they could hardly be called that. They were extremely toxic and called you names all the time.

• Your car needed an inspection: while driving, something was knocking violently under the hood, so when one of the guys talked to Lester, you drove into town.

• This place seemed nice enough to you, even though it looked a little creepy and abandoned.

• When Bo was talking to a guy from your company who was driving a car, he saw a young man yelling at you and sometimes swinging. Bo frowned, but did not show his mood change to others. "Why doesn't the girl go to our local "House of Wax"? This place will really make you want to stay" Bo joked, pointing towards a hill near the city. You went in the indicated direction with a clear desire to distract yourself from these vile people, leaving your pseudo-friends in the care of Bo.

• A little later you will discover that all your companions have mysteriously "left", leaving you in this city all alone to fend for yourself.

• Bo will calm you down and try in every possible way to show that you can trust him (what's there, you cried into his vest, and he gently stroked you on the back). The man was grinning.

• In fact, he just saw himself in you at that moment. He remembered how his parents treated him brutally, chained him to a chair with stones and constantly set an example for his younger brother. Something about you, so shrinking and scared, seemed to him exciting and interesting. Perhaps he found in your eyes the same feelings that he experienced in his life, there was something familiar about you, even native, that made him want to protect you and fence you off from these terrible people.

Well i love them too much hah. I wrote this with my ex-girlfriend a long time ago, so I was not sure if it was worth posting. But what's done is done. These boys are too cute for me not to write this one. So have a good day :)

#slashers x reader #slashers #fanfic #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #drabble #michael myers x reader #michael myers #michael myers rz #bubba sawyer #bubba sawyer x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slashers x you #well i love them all

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smallscreengifs · 2 years

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#giphyupload #tv #reactions #drama #celebrity #react #channel9 #apprentice #ronnie #celebrityapprenti

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 7 days

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Friends Don't Do That (Betrayal series) - F1 Grid

MV1 focused - side reader x Lando (relationship)

Summary: Max grew up karting her and while it took her longer to find her way into F1. Now she's here and they're side by side. But who'd have thought y/n would be the one to bring it to him. And who'd have predicted the damage it would cause?

Andy, Ronnie and the whole team had noticed the shift in y/n and despite Max being outwardly nice to the rest of the grid, things in the team were beginning to tail spin after Miami.

"Y/n, this questions is for you...there's some rumours after Miami and obviously your wins in Imola and Monaco are two huge wins for anyone in the grid, especially a rookie. But how are you feeling going up against Max for Canada?" The reporter asks making the rest of the drivers in the conference look at her.

"What do you mean how do I feel?" Y/n frowns making heads turn as if they're about to watch a back and forth like a tennis match.

"Are you confident about taking more wins against him?"

"Honestly, as far as I'm concerned...Max will be lucky to get another win for the rest of the season and if I have to fight him over the line, so be it. But I'll win." Y/n states making everyone in the room share an expression of utter shock. Then she picks up the mic again. "Does that answer a question of confidence and give you a nice dramatic headline to feed the masses?"

Despite her confidence, Max was proving to have the upper hand. He got pole while she fumbled scraped the wall of champions which Andy said was a promising sign of what's to come in her career. But it landed her in P4.

"Alright, y/n. Let's keep the winning streak going." Ronnie states into her ear as they sit waiting for the cars to line up after the formation lap.

"Let's do it, Ron Ron." Y/n smiles before waiting for him to let he know when the last car is on the grid.

Y/n is ready got make a driver her career and leave the others in the dust, no touching the wall of champions today.

From lights out she gets a good start bumping up to P3.

Only George between her and Max, he'll be easy to pass at the right now time but for now she'll give Max that false sense of safety.

Unbeknownst to her the first 30 laps where she stays behind George, Max is asking what game she's playing and what she's doing. But not even Ronnie has an answer for that.

"Y/n, what are you doing?"

"I'm racing...isn't that my job?" Y/n questions with an audible smirk while Ronnie looks at GP and Christian with a dumbfound expression and shrug though internally he knows she's playing the long game and purposely messing with Max's head. They both know she can pass George with ease.

Eventually Max is called to box and following that, she is too.

"Now's your time to shine, y/n. I'll leave it to you." Ronnie states knowing that by this point he only needs to speak if she's at risk of something.

George is out the way once he boxes and then it's just y/n and Max lead racing with y/n taking bites out of the margin between then lap by lap till she's on his tail and in DRS.

"Last lap. If you're going to strike then do it now, y/n. Push." Ronnie states when they finally pass for the start of lap 70.

"Do you think y/n will get past him?" Crofty asks really uncertain.

"If she hasn't been pushing then I think it's inevitable. But it may be down to the line."

"Her interview from earlier in the week will be quite a famous moment if it is."

And y/n does exactly that, she uses DRS and passes Max just before the line. It was cruel. Let him lead the whole race, and even snatch the extra point for fastest lap just as she crosses the line.

Red Bull doesn't know how to react. Shock strong within the atmosphere. Though y/n's half of the garage shakes it off quick enough and cheers.

"Well done, y/n. That's P1." Ronnie states over the radio. somewhat in disbelief.

"I'm...in awe. I didn't actually think Y/n would do it." Martin states making Crofty finally shake off his own shock.

"I think everyone is a little shocked. Ehhh...So that's y/n P1, Max P2 and Fernando P3. Then finishing the points we have Charles p4, Oscar p5, Lando p6, George p7-he dropped back quite a bit, Yuki p8 (bc I'm manifesting he remain for 2025), Lewis p9 and Valtteri p10."

The screen cuts to y/n climbing out her car finally pulled up to the P1 sign and standing on her car cheering as Red Bull yell. Max is nowhere to be found, having already stormed to the cool down room which might be wise for keeping distance.

Fernando however, is awaiting the young woman giving her a tight hug and heavy handed pat on the back before smacking the top of her helmet too.

"You are brave for what you have done." Fernando states making her feel a sudden sick kind of feeling.

She gets weighed and interviews are done in Max's absence. No doubt he'll find himself in trouble for it, but y/n doubts that he cars right now.

The cool down room the the temperature of an ice box in temperature and before she knows it, they're out on the podium where Max leaves the podium for the champagne spraying and returns to put the Red Bull team member up there between himself and y/n for the podium photo.

But once she gets down she decides to try and get a word with her teammate.

"Max-"

But he's gone like a ghost, as if he'd never been up on the podium with her at all and suddenly she feels a hand on her back making her turn to Fernando.

"You know you raced dirty today. Set him up for failure...Winning is fun, but it's lonely, chiquita." Fernando states before being led off by his PR assistant.

"Come on, y/n." Andy smiles sadly making her smile and move towards him, placing the bottle and trophy down to give him a hug that maybe she didn't realise she needed so badly. "Hey...it's ok, you won. And at the end of the day, that's what you're here to do. By any means and methods you like."

"I know." Y/n sighs while nuzzling into his neck.

Y/n is 24 and while that is technically the age of an adult, sometimes she really feels like she wants to just be maybe coddled and babied a little.

"Come on, HR let me be the one to come get you but you're wanted for press conference and any other media they want to poke you into being involved with."

"Right." Y/n hums earning a small smile before he nods at her.

Lando had made a mistake getting into conversation with Max. His own error, but he witnessed the press conference which looked like the most painful atmosphere, only Alonso could be the one to break the ice but even that looked like something he wasn't eager to have the duty of doing.

He sighs walking to y/n's hotel room, something he's somewhat int he habit of doing these days. He knocks on the door waiting for it to open and when it does he smiles.

"Hello winner." Lando smirks making her hum as he closes the door and frowns following y/n further into the room. "I'd say I'm surprised your not happy but I just spend an hour listening to your teammate talk about the race."

"I'd rather not talk about him." Y/n mutters making Lando frown and move to her while she lies face down on the bed. She starts saying something into the pillow and it certainly sounds like she's crying.

"I can't understand a word you're saying." Lando sighs kicking off his shoes and climbing into the bed next to her. "It wasn't really a nice way to win a race."

"He's pissing me off. He never apologised for winning." Y/n hiccups lifting her head just enough for Lando to hear her which he has to laugh even just a little at. "Lewis never apologised for his Silverstone win..."

"No. But the people who watched that with a conscience weren't very impressed about his celebrations...I suppose you can be forgiven since you're crying." Lando sighs while pulling her closer. "Have you tried talking to him?"

"I tried when we got off the podium but it was like he vanished...then Fernando told me that I set him up for failure and winning is fun but it's lonely."

Lando didn't want to say it. But the rivalry between Max and y/n is beginning to feel a bit like a certain history of another pair of teammates who were childhood friends.

"Maybe this is as bad as it will get." Lando mumbles then kissing the top of her head. "I'm still proud of you for the win."

Y/n sighs looking up at him, lips very pouted as she does so but he just smiles managing to lean in just enough to kiss her and in no time he has pushed her back into the plush surface of the bed, rolling on top of her with a smirk catching her in another heated kiss.

"Why don't you let me show you how to properly enjoy your win?"

"Happily." Y/n hums, allowing herself to indulge in the distraction that is Lando and he's becoming a very welcome one at that.

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lussiane333 · 1 year

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Do you know that audio on TikTok where it's like "not in front of the baby" and there's a slasher listening from the closest or something then they have to intervene? Can we get angsty story with bo, rz mikey, and tommy listening into that then the slasher kills the husband but moves the baby so they're looking away from the murder first then the reader falls for them and they're a happy family with the slasher and their baby with a dead abusive husband. I'm sorry this is long I'm a angsty slut 😁 also I love you sm💋

Of course, thank you for your request! I don't really know what audio you meant but I saw angst and decided to do this, hope you like it!

Slashers protecting their future S/O

RZ Michael Myers

When Michael saw the way your husband is talking to you, threatening you, he got very vivid memories of his childhood.

How little boo was crying in his mom arms when Ronnie was throwing things around, yelling and even hitting his mom countless amount of times.

Michael didn't like this. He hated people in general, but what he hated even more was domestic abuse. His first initiative was to slaughter you two and leave like he always does, but when he saw the little kid clinging onto you, crying and screaming, you backing up from your what it looked like drunk husband, his plan changed.

"Please, let's not do this here.. let's just-"

"Let's just fucking what you dumb whore?!" He spat and siddled over to you.

"Not.. not in front of her, please.." You walked away and quickly put your little girl in a crib, preparing for the man in front of you to beat you again.

"Don't stand in my fucking way! Take that little bastard and get out of my fucking house!"

You pushed him and yelled, "How can you say things like this about your child?!"

"Fucking bitch!" He grabbed ahold of your hair and threw you to the ground, kicking your stomach as you went quiet.

That was it.

Michael bursted into the room, breathing deeply and quickly, he looked to his left and saw that the little child was still crying. He grabbed the nearest blanket roughly and covered the whole crib.

'Little one doesn't have to see it' Michael thought to himself..

Everything went so quickly that you didn't even have time to react to a stranger in a mask who just broke into your house as he grabbed your husband by the neck and squeezed it so hard that you could see his eyes popping out from the ground you were still laying on.

After he stabbed your husband numerous times, Michael looked down at you and saw that you were now hiding behind the crib. He slowly walked up to you and noticed that you had your little daughter in your arms.

He couldn't kill you. He didn't want to. He knew he wouldn't do it even if he wanted to. He was mesmerized by you.. So beautiful and and protecting your own as much you can.

Soft "Thank you" was what brought him back to his senses.

The baby girl was looking at him too, she didn't cry anymore and it seemed like his mask was what caught the little one's attention.

He then grasped your dead husband's body, looking back at you one last time, Michael promised himself that he would come back.

Bo Sinclair

'Not in my fucking town' was the last thing on Bo's mind when he heard your begging. He kicked the museum door open, aiming his gun at your so called husband that had you slammed against the now broken mirror, his hand holding a piece of glass under your neck. Bo noticed your look the moment you were shushed when trying to apologize for barging in the church like that earlier.

The man backed away from you as he clutched the glass in his hand and you looked at Bo. Surprised and scared expression was displayed on your face. Quickly, you walked over to the side.

"Take 'er and and go to the station i'll be there in a sec" Bo said, his eyes not leaving your husband.

You didn't hesitate and took your crying baby girl in arms and ran out of the museum.

"Don't you fucking dare to leav-" gunshot.

"Ow! Fuck! You bastard!"

Bo was on him right away. Punches, kicks and curses were thrown, Bo grunting in anger. The lifeless body of your husband on the ground, blood on Bo's hands and everywhere weren't the main worry now. You were. When he imagined the things that you've probably been through, he wanted to bring that dead bastard back and torture him over and over again.

You were standing, leaning against the counter and waiting for Bo to arrive.

Your daughter had calmed down and was sleeping in a stroller. You thought about calling the police, but when you remembered that gun in Bo's hands, deep down you hoped that some bullets would actually go through your husband..

The police were out of the question, and there wasn't any signal anyway.

You freaked out when Bo walked in covered in blood.

"It's.." he cleared his throat before speaking again. "I took care of it"

You were lost for words and felt the sting of tears in your eyes.

"What am I going to do now.." It hurt to talk, it hurt to think, everything hurt.

Bo came over to you and pulled you closer. "Hey s'alright, shhh now.. Let me take you both to my place hm?"

"But what about-"

"No one's gonna find out anything"

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me"

10 minutes seemed like forever as you walked up to his house. You didn't know this man beside his name. He was a stranger to you and could be a possible danger too. You also didn't know if it was despair that made you feel protected in his presence, but it strangely felt good.

You sat down on the couch next to Bo and he shuffled closer. His arm tightened around you as you rested your head against his chest. Bo gently stroked your hair as he looked down at you.

"It's just.. been a while since I felt safe" You looked into his eyes and Bo sighed. You were far from safe with him, but he didn't want to see that broken look on your face ever again.

"Stay here tonight, I promise I won't let anything hurt ya" he said.

You agreed, and Bo felt better just for a moment before he thought about the fucked up things in (t)his dead town. But he knew he wanted to protect you, protect you both.

Thomas Hewitt

You've had enough.

You no longer wanted to endure the change of mood from one day to the next. You didn't want to be blamed for everything bad that happened anymore.

You were tired of being someone's punching bag, especially when you didn't deserve it. And above all, you had a child that you wanted to raise.

You ran into a family on your way to Texas. You were truly lucky. When you stopped at a local eatery, you met an older woman that was very nice to you from the moment you entered. In response to your question, "If there's any house near that could be rented?" You were left disappointed.

"Oh honey, you won't find much in this town, why you're in need of a home?"

You didn't really care anymore, so you told the nice foreign woman some things about your life. How you took your baby and ran away from your abusive ex, and that's why you're looking for a new home and a job.

For a while, she looked like she was thinking about something before speaking again;

"Maybe I could help you both but.. I don't know if it's a good idea.."

"Please Mrs. Hewitt, I don't have much but I will pay you with all i have, if you know of anything.."

"Alright, alright! You can stay with us in the house, at least I won't do everything alone, I could use some help"

You met the other family members who didn't seem to be as thrilled with your presence..

So you stayed with the Hewitts, you helped around the house like you promised and everything seemed alright for a few weeks.

One evening, unfortunately, someone pulled up in front of the Hewitt's house.

In the middle of your conversation with Thomas, that was kind of one sided, you were interrupted by a noise from outside.

"Y/N?!" "Y/N! Get the fuck out, I know you're in there!"

You would recognize that voice anywhere, it was your ex.

When you went downstairs, Luda Mae was peeking through the window and Hoyt already had a shotgun in his hands.

Luda Mae looked over to you and spoke;

"Send him away, nobody needs him making such a mess here"

You took a deep breath and stepped outside.

Meanwhile, Thomas also came downstairs, holding your baby in his arms.

'How could she ever love a man that she didn't trust fully and felt like she didn't even know?'

'How could a man with practically everything he ever wanted to have treat it like it doesn't matter?' Thomas'd never understand.

"What are you doing here? I told you I don't ever want to see you again!"

"Stop this bullshit, pack your things we're going home from this shithole"

"You're going home, I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"I said-"

"And I said no!" You yelled and that provoked your ex.

He grabbed your hair and started to pull you towards the car.

Thomas had already given the baby to Luda Mae and he angrily grunted something like; "Go upstairs" , Before running outside with a hook.

"Who the fuck is this freak face" Was the last thing you heard before Thomas jabbed the hook into your ex's neck and ripped it open as he fell to the ground, dead. Thomas then looked at you, his chest rising up and down, he moved his head to the side, gesturing to you to go back inside. You gave him a soft smile and went in without a word. He knew that if someone tried to hurt you or your baby ever again, they would end up exactly like this, if not worse.

You became his the moment Luda Mae brought you home, and you didn't even know it.

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milf-harrington · 1 year

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i wrote this in like an hour so please forgive the quality but here's some gentle steddie set somewhere in the early 90's mentions of canonical violence and trauma, but otherwise just a gentle morning scene

5:30 am found Eddie Munson on the back porch steps, watching their liver spotted dalmatian patrol the fence-line with her usual level of seriousness. Ronnie moved like a spectre in the half-light, her edges all blurred and smudged until she stopped to sniff at a weed and became solid again.

The cherry of his cigarette flared bright on his inhale as he brought his knees further into his chest, feet crossed over one another like he could trap the warmth in if he just curled up tight enough. With autumn creeping closer, the mornings were getting crisp.

Luckily, his ears were warm under both his hair and the hood of his jumper,but his legs were prickly with goosebumps thanks to his habit of grabbing whatever was on the floor. This time it was Steve's basketball shorts, the one's that used to be trackpants until he'd taken scissors to them in the summer of '88.

They definitely weren't suited for cooler weather, but they were comfortable and Eddie kind of liked the distraction the chill brought. It was harder to get stuck in memories of snapping bones and dead motors and being eaten by bats when your toes were trying not to freeze off.

Eddie sniffled without tears and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, bringing his smoke back to his lips for another drag. His hands were shaking, but it had nothing to do with the weather.

He'd dreamed of Chrissy again.

The problem with an overactive imagination, is that it could always make your nightmares worse.

After weeks of stress free dreaming, he'd wound up back in his trailer last night, but this time he'd known Chrissy's favourite song. Playing it hadn't worked, and instead the bats had come pouring from her mouth like it was it's own gate. They'd swarmed him before he even had a chance to run, breaking free through the windows and those damn vents before tearing him and Hawkins apart.

He'd woken in his and Steve's bed, in the house they bought with their shady government money, sweat slicked and on fire. His skin was tight and itchy as he'd crept out of bed, tapping the dog awake to take her outside and grabbing his smokes from the dresser.

Ronnie chose then to drop her favoured rope at his feet, head ducked and eyes flitting from between him and the toy hopefully, tail wagging. Eddie secured his cigarette between his lips so he could distract her with a scratch behind her ears, and grabbed the toy with his free hand before she could react. She'd turn it into a game of tug-o-war if he wasn't careful, and it was impossible to ask her to drop it when it took both hands just to keep hold of the thing.

The rope sailed across the backyard in a high arc, and Ronnie almost tripped over her own paws in her haste to get to it.

A few more throws later, the sky was brighter and the back door opened with a familiar wheeze behind him.

Eddie didn't turn as he threw Ronnie's toy again, but listened to Steve quietly walk closer and settle down beside him with a soft grunt.

A moment later, his cigarette was stolen from right between his fingers, but when he turned to complain, Eddie was met with a steaming mug shaped like a bear. He took it with hands that were steadier than they'd been 10 minutes ago.

Steve, meanwhile, had tucked the cigarette between his own lips like he used too when he was trying to seem cool and impressive (before they got their shit together), and unfolded the blanket he'd brought out with him.

It settled over both of their shoulders while Eddie sipped his coffee, feeling it's journey all the way down to his stomach. He watched Ronnie register Steve's presence and come bounding over.

She stopped in front of them with the rope toy swinging from her mouth, tail picking up enough speed to move her hips with it when Steve signaled for her to drop it.

Steve generally wasn't verbal this early in the morning, preferring to sign until the world felt awake enough for voices. Luckily their dog was deaf too, even if she was cheeky about ignoring signals by pretending not to see them.

Finally, Ronnie relented, dropping the rope between Steve's ridiculous old-man slippers as he passed the cigarette back to Eddie. She graciously accepted her vigorous head scratches as reward.

Eddie huffed a laugh and tapped off the excess ash, taking another drag and waiting until the dog was tearing off after her toy to pass it back to Steve.

He accepted the smoke with a smile and didn't ask why Eddie was awake so early, or why he hadn't bothered to dress warmer. Just made sure the blanket was wrapped around him properly, and pressed a kiss to his temple over the top of his hood.

Eddie sighed from somewhere deep and tired inside him and let his head drop onto Steve's shoulder, feeling it drop as he exhaled smoke towards the rising sun.

#hoh steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #i really want a dalmatian but i'm currently in no position to get one so i gave steddie one instead #im imagining that they adopted her from shelter sometime after vecna is defeated #eddie wanted to name her something metal but steve didn't want her to have a weird name so they compromised on 'ronnie'#which is cute and also the name of dio's lead singer #steddie fluff #sort of #domestic steddie #my writing

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thebisexualdogdad · 7 months

Text

Earth 2-Barry Allen x Male!reader headcanons

*I'm currently doing a rewatch of the arrowverse and got to the earth 2 episodes and earth 2 Barry was so adorable I just had to write something for him. Anyways here's a quick recap for earth 2 for anyone who's forgotten because I surely did; Barry is still a forensic scientist, Iris is a detective, Joe is a lounge singer, Caitlin, Ronnie and Cisco are all evil metas and I brought Eddie back just for fun since Barry is with reader

● you're a new detective who fell for the adorable nerdy forensic scientist Barry Allen of earth 2

● when you originally asked him out on a date he thought you were just messing with him cause everyone at the station knew he liked you

● but why would the handsome detective (who was also his best friend Iris' partner) want to go out with him?

● Iris assured him that you really did like him and that date eventually led to you guys getting married 3 years later

● every morning before work you make breakfast while he makes the coffee

● it's a nice peaceful moment to start your day and spend quality time with Barry

● you also help him pick out a bowtie that matches whatever sweater and vest he's wearing that day

● double dates out with Iris and Eddie to see Joe sing at Jitterbugs

● as well as having dinner once a week with his parents

● you hear the "so when are we getting grandkids" question all the time

● "soon mom, soon"

● he's so pure and never swears

● he only says "what the heck" or "dang it" or "fudge"

● it makes you laugh at how sweet it is

● watching sci fi shows with Barry and not knowing anything that's going on

● he tries to explain to you all the sciency stuff behind it which still doesn't make any sense but he gets so excited and is so cute doing so you happily listen to him

● being impressed by your husband every time he creates new tech to help in your hunt for Killer Frost, Deathstorm, Reverb and other metas

● Barry keeps tracks of every meta you have put away and all of your other achievements to brag about how great of a detective you are

● one time you and Iris faced off against Killer Frost and Deathstorm and she nearly froze you to death

● Barry never left your bedside in the months you were recovering

● "Barry stop worrying I'm okay"

● "you're the love of my life Y/N I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you"

● "well it's a good thing you don't have to find out"

● when you get approved to go back to work Barry and Iris throw you a big welcome back party

● Barry is super romantic

● he plans something big for every anniversary from the anniversary of the day you met to your first date/first kiss and even the day you proposed

● you don't know how but he manages to get reservations at the most exclusive restaurants in Central city

● Iris "so what did you and Barry get up to over the weekend?"

● "Barry surprised me with dinner at that fancy French place downtown"

● "how?? Eddie and I have been trying to get a reservation there for months but they are booked until next year"

● even though you've been together for years Barry is still so nervous in the bedroom like it's the first time

● he's clumsy and always knocking things over, you've had to replace so many lamps in your home

● he gets embarrassed by how his body reacts to you and still apologizes for moaning too loudly or bucking his hips uncontrollably

● which you always have to reassure him that it's okay for him to enjoy what's happening and that you love how turned on he gets

● especially when you are role-playing and pretending to arrest him

● or when he sees you in your gym clothes after a work out

● he really can't help staring at your biceps it's his weakness

● when earth 1 Barry shows up to fight zoom he is shocked to find out you two are married (as you are Joe's partner on his earth that he's been crushing on) after you take him to an empty hallway at the station to make out when he was pretending to be your Barry

● your Barry finds out and is not happy about it, "he got frisky with my husband?? I have to find this guy and give him a piece of my mind"

● "you're so cute when you're jealous"

● Cisco "I've been trying to get my Barry to ask you out Y/N for so long now I have proof that you guys would be adorable together"

● Barry "maybe we are just meant to be on every earth"

#the flash imagine #barry allen imagine #barry allen x reader #earth 2 barry allen imagine #x male reader #headcanons

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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 3 months

Text

That was it.

(a new post? it's been months, bro!)

What -- Daryl had a dream featuring You. It's thrown him a little, ngl.

When -- the first day Daryl is bedridden following his two falling trips down the ridge in the episode Chupacabra. In the Slowpoke Series, it's a few hours after Redemption Arcs, which takes place the morning after Thank you, angel...

Who's in this one? -- Daryl, You, Carl, Lori

Perspective -- POV 3rd person Daryl

Relationships -- slow burn, currently platonic-but-confused Daryl x equally oblivious Reader

Pronouns - she/her

TWs -- some language, and reference to Daryl's childhood neglect, and ghastly screenshots with poor editing XD

Masterlist -- Official one here and Chronological one here

-----------------------------------

Her knock was recognizable and he got a rush in his stomach when he knew she was there. Three or four knocks, a pause, then one or two more knocks with some kind of greeting. This time, is was: “Daryl, you up for visitors?”

Was he ‘up for visitors?’

Ain’t like he’s some old dude in a nursing home, why would—oh shit, did this mean they found Sophia? Was Sophia the visitor?? “What is it?”

“It’s Carl’s first field trip out of bed other than for the toilet.”

“Y/N,” came Carl’s groan through the shut door.

“Carl,” she teased back back in the same tone of voice. “Mr. Dixon’s in the same boat, nerd, no leavin’ bed excepting for the facilities.”

Speaking for himself, the kid finally said, “I wanted to go see you first, Mr. Dixon.”

“Just—come in already,” Daryl grunted. He'd already tugged his bedsheets as high as they'd go, he was ready as he could get.

The knob turned, and as the two of them slowly walked in. He made himself relax when the nerves hit him at seeing Y/N.

It's stupid. His dumb ass started getting nervous around her this morning. Nervous around Y/N, of all the people here!

Daryl noticed Lori hovering by the doorway while Y/N and Carl walked in. She explained, “We don’t want to crowd you like yesterday. And we won’t stay too long, Y/N, Maggie and I will be going out for another sweep of our grid.”

The boy had more color than he did the other day when Daryl went to see him, which was good.

"The head wrap stuff they gave you looks cool," the kid told him. "I'm glad you didn't get hurt worse than you were. I heard you got hurt pretty bad." Slowly, Carl made his way to Daryl’s bedside and seemed beat doing it. “I would go out to help search today if I could. I was the only one of us who—well, other than you—who hasn’t gone out looking today. Beth’s older sister and Jimmy and his mom went, too.”

“Well, Mags came with us,” Y/N filled in. “Jimmy looked around the property and its perimeter only, but that’s because he got in trouble yesterday for joinin’ without permission. His mama searched with him to keep the peace.”

As the news hovered, rolled over him, then sunk in, it felt to Daryl as if were making him sink deeper into the mattress where he lay bandaged, bruised, and not much use to anyone.

He’d nearly died trying to find that little girl yesterday, found her doll. And after just about everyone went out searching today, and all them people came back with zip.

Daryl hated feeling helpless, and now he felt helpless, annoyed and angry.

Really, they all went out searching, and somehow all came back with nothing?

Carl kept chatting to him, but to his credit, Daryl didn’t snarl at him to shut up.

“I would’ve wanted to go to target practice, too. Did you know Mr. Douglas knows how to use guns? He told me he was an instructor, he’d started learning way a long time ago after something bad happened to this guy named Ronny King.”

“Rodney,” his ma corrected softly.

“I want to learn how to use a gun. How old were you when you learned, Mr. Dixon?”

Lori and Y/N reacted to the question in their own ways.

Y/N peeked at Lori and it looked like she was shrinking into her neck like a turtle as she walked to the window to get the stool for Carl to sit on.

Lori saw, shook her head and took it from Y/N’s hands, citing, “Let me, honey.” She placed it behind her son, then told him sternly, “You were just shot. Now’s not the time to discuss you using a gun.”

“But Mo—”

“We can talk about that with Dad later, okay, bud?”

“Y/N started learning to shoot when she was 8.”

That made Daryl blink, and it distracted him from his annoyance. His square, chick friend learned about using guns when she was 8?

Y/N gave her nephew a warning stare. “I learned because my own mama in our own circumstances made a decision for me that she determined would help keep me safe, the same way your mama’s makin’ one for you.”

He jut out his chin a little. “I would be safer with one. And I thought Shane taught you?”

“S-Sometimes babysitting me meant us goin’ to the range,” she allowed, eyeing Lori for help.

“Carl,” his ma told him, and with a look firm enough to make a nun cower. “That’s enough interrogating your aunt. We will talk about this with Dad when you’re able to leave bed for more than a few yards.”

“Okay,” the kid apologized, head lowering. “Sorry Mom, sorry Y/N.”

There were about three seconds of silence, tops, when the boy next asked Daryl, “Do you still think Sophia’s alive?”

Y/N froze, Lori tilted her head and looked Daryl in the eye warily.

As for Carl himself, he at least seemed hopeful. “If you could stay okay for nine days when you were a kid, Sophia can stay okay for five.”

Y/N’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. He'd told her the other day about it, then decided Carl should know to keep his spirits up.

Lori, who knew nothing about this, looked alarmed. “You went missing for nine days as a child, Daryl?” she repeated.

Daryl nodded, getting dizzy when he did. Wasn’t no big secret, just some dumb mistake he made when he was little. He'd figured that Carl staying hopeful and expecting people to find Sophia would keep the rest of the people here searching.

Y/N already knew about Daryl’s little nine-day accident, and Andrea; might as well let Lori in on it if it meant more people wouldn’t give up on Sophia.

“Yeah, nine days. Was perfectly fine, and that was with me bein’ nowhere near as sharp as Sophia, and without miles of farmhouses and shit around.” Daryl figured exaggerating might help Carl feel happy, so he added, “I was dumber than a post, and even I got away with only an itchy ass from using poison oak as toilet paper.”

It did make the kid smile, but then Carl whispered as if he was nervous, “Quarter.”

Y/N wasn’t nervous at all. “Two of ’em.”

Oh, right. Daryl had forgotten about the no-cuss-around-kids rule.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” is how Lori responded quietly to Daryl, then to his relief, she changed the subject back to asking Y/N how target practice went.

“Lore, did you know Teddy was good with guns?” Y/N shared. “I’d had zero idea.”

“He and Shane talked about being instructors on one of the first nights at the quarry.”

“Man, I missed that whole conversation.”

Lori smiled and began to fix the extra blanket that was crumpled on the side of Daryl’s bed.

Daryl almost missed what was being said because he was distracted by how casually nice that was. Damned thoughtful.

It was that moment when he noticed how he’d grown pretty okay with shooting the shit with these people. Wouldn’t seek it out, probably, but he wasn’t crawling out of his skin, neither. He really liked that the kid wanted to see him, too. It helped him feel like he wasn’t as big an asshole as he felt.

“You, Amy and Glenn were busy playing ‘I never’, if I’m remembering it.” Lori spread blanket out at the foot of the bed and folded it in an accordion-type way. “Either that night or the—no, sorry, it was the night everyone started talking about Bigfoot, the kids were sitting around you three. That was one of the first nights, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, right! We used up all the Tapatío, and this guy mentioned his chupacabra.” Y/N stuck the tip of her tongue out and lightly bit it, grinning big.

“Luis and me got so freaked out that night!” Carl joined in, suddenly as energetic as a little bunny-rabbit. “His older cousin told him all about Okefenokee Swamp, and, and the gators and the Pig Man and the Thing!”

“Your Aunt Evie and I camped with Grammy and Grandad at Okefenokee lots of times when I was a girl,” Lori told them both with a smile in her eyes. “Never saw the Pig Man or the Swamp Thing.”

“But they saw her,” Y/N mouthed to Carl. “Thank God we lived more upstate.”

That, Daryl could agree with, he even made a hum.

He was from way up north, close to the Tennessee border. But with this group that he’d stuck with for who-knows-why, to get to Fort Benning they’d driven far enough southwest that they was basically in Alabama.

“Yeah, you’re from further north, too, right?” Y/N sighed. “I’m so darn homesick, man. We’re just about on the fall line now, aren’t we? Driving to the city was one thing, close enough to home, but the roundabout, southwest mess we made trying to get to stupid Fort Benning was—w-we’re basically in Alabama!”

…His thoughts exactly.

“We’re further from Lake Lanier down here, though,” Carl said. Sounded like he was both trying to cheer her up and rib her. Inside joke most likely, Daryl guessed.

Y/N shivered at the name but couldn’t stop herself from breaking into a smirk, which made Carl crack up. After making a face at him, she looked at Daryl. “Dude, you’d have had a good time at practice.” Her smile grew and she leaned toward him. “As soon as it was time to try hittin’ the targets, Jimmy tried to shoot his pistol sideways.”

“What, all gangster?” he grunted back, glad that he wasn’t alone with her again. He liked didn’t mind being alone with her, but he obviously got smacked in the head a little too hard yesterday, seeing as he felt all nervous around her now. Really nervous. Like, so goddamned nervous, man, it’s good the boy and Lori are here, otherwise he’d be barely able to look her in the eyes.

Give it a day or two, he’d be fine.

“Teddy thinks Jimmy will have to undo Hollywood and video game gun stuff the next couple lessons.” She scrunched her nose, and wondered out loud, “Don’t know why that’s what they show in movies so often, that’s irresponsible firearm use. Oh! But the angled aim I guess is needed when one’s using a riot shield, right?”

His mouth lifted into a grin. Y/N could be such a square.

With that, she yawned and leaned on the side of the bed, causing it to dip down slightly. Daryl’s heart did a funny jolting type thing when she did, he inhaled too quickly as a result, which hurt his stiched side and bruised or broken ribs, so he then winced as a result of that.

“How long do we have ’til we head out again, Lore? I’m hittin’ my limit. Looks like Carl’s crashing, too, you doing okay, baby?”

The conversation that followed didn’t reach his head, Daryl was too distracted. The, um, the movement of the bed dipping as Y/N relaxed and reached back to massage her shoulder caused the memories from last night and the dream that followed to whoosh back to Daryl even harder.

His heartbeat did that funny thing again. And the helpless feeling he’d had, with its anger and annoyance, whittled away bit by bit.

A weird sensation replaced it.

He wasn’t sure that it was, but it felt like it was pressing him even further into the mattress.

So, the dream he had last night: Y/N was…laying down with him.

Nothing was going on, her arm was simply wrapped around him and he could feel her heartbeat against his chest. He remembers pressing his mouth to her head for a second, then she reached her hand to brush it across his temple or whatever, and they just laid there. That was it.

Really, that was it, the whole dream, nothing else went on. And he relieved but also...disappointed when he first woke up, saw the bed empty beside him, and figured out it was just a dream, ain’t that bullshit? Then he listened to Y/N's breathing where she lay on the air mattress and couldn't fall back asleep for what felt like a while.

He was all screwed up, wasn't he?

Granted, two days ago, her shirt had been soaked after they’d got caught in the storm and the outline of everything was clear as damn day. Like, sure, he’d turned his eyes away, but he’d still seen it and liked it! Then, yesterday during their argument when they’d suddenly been standing all close, he’d randomly imagined gripping her waist and crashing his mouth against hers before cupping her face so he could see if her cheeks were as soft as they looked, like what the in the balls was his deal? He ain’t mature enough to be friends with a chick or something? It’s never been a problem before, he used to barely even notice or care when he thought someone looked nice.

Her calling him all them pet names yesterday was enough, but, like, what was last night?

She literally massaged him. Who does that?

The massage had felt as if there were an angel, don’t get him wrong, he’d been in so much pain. But being touched so gently but so…close, and right on his bare skin, it made him feel something similar to scared.

It wasn’t ‘scary’ in that sense, that’s not it, it felt…weird. Again, he didn’t know how to phrase it.

Worse still was that he thinks he accidentally called Y/N “angel.”

Out loud.

He still ain’t sure, his sleep was too disjointed to tell if he was awake or not, but — she’d started massaging his feet, he knew that much! His feet had hurt so bad that he’d almost cried again when she’d started to rub them because it was just such relief.

Fast forwarding to this morning, when he’d made his managed to power his way all by himself out of bed (oh, it hurt like a bitch) and out of his room to find the pisser, of course the first thing he saw when he opened the door was Y/N, all sleepy-eyed, messy-haired, and wrapped in a blanket like he was.

And, of course, the first thing she did was help him walk by putting her good arm around his back. He could feel her warmth and heartbeat beside his chest again, and when he turned his head, his mouth collided with her head. Kinda hurt. And she smelled good.

But all that sent the dream he’d had, the one where she was laying next to him, crashing back all at once.

Plus the fear that she’d see him in his boxers again and/or notice how his morning wood (ain’t his fault, he’d only just woken up and he had to take a whiz real bad!) was the only thing pinging through his mind as she walked him to the toilet.

Then when her brother dropped off some of his stuff from his tent, he had a sneaking suspicion it was Y/N who’d been the one to gather it up. Mainly because she’d been the one who promised him someone would bring him some things, but also because nail clippers and a toothbrush were on top of the pile.

He then got the dumb idea in his head to be embarrassed at how his tent wasn’t real clean.

The past four days were batshit crazy; getting all nervous around a chick — probably the only person he truly feels okay with around here — is the stupidest damn thing. Still, he never had a person he felt so damn comfortable with other than Uncle Jesse, his little cousin, Merle, and his old lady neighbor from when he was a kid.

So much happened with Y/N the past few days. It was like they’d been stripped and beaten together, but got back home in one piece. He even hallucinated her talking to him when he’d fallen down the ridge. And that’s not even bringing up how he’d been chill with her seeing his scars yesterday, which was only after he okayed Dr. Farmer literally teaching her how do literal goddamn stitches on him!

Almost like yesterday, Daryl could imagine the way Merle would bust his balls. “I can’t tell if you’re actin’ like a little boy clinging to the kid who was nice to ’em on the jungle gym, or a clueless virgin nervous around the girl who’ll look him in the eyes long enough.”

Lucky for him, Carl wondered out loud: “Maybe Jimmy wanted to practice shooting sideways,” so Daryl was able to shut his mind up.

Next, Carl, who definitely looked ready to hit the sack, started miming holding a gun and aiming it to the side (as opposed to shooting it forward, just cocked to the side like Jimmy had, according to Y/N).

“No, ya nerd, like this,” Y/N snorted, and held out her good arm as if she were aiming a gun forward, then twisted her wrist sideways.

“Oh, the cool way to shoot!”

“Nooo.”

------------------------------------------

-> Masterlist link here <-

and our teeny tiny taglist :D

@spenciepoo338 @its-freaking-bats @whistlesalot @buffy-the-assbutt-slayer @dreamingaboutthewonderland @kwazii-kat @darylsmavis @outlanderhornet22 @battinsonrobs @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @multiifandomhoe @writingmybeloved @boomergirl123 @iheartathena0 @moonliight-luv @suniloli @supernaturalgirl02 @cnake-garden @daryldixmedown @sophehe @crashlyrose @virgo-sunflower920 @jennythe @theficbaker @vampireautism @rosetta196 @wifeof-barnes

(inbox is open if you would like on or off the taglist, slowpokes. Please don’t feel bad or nervous if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know in the inbox! We’re all friends here and your comfort level matters)

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jynzandtonic · 5 months

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Ooooo how would any/all of the boys react to turning 40???

*Sigh* 40 is a damn fine age. Please accept these snaccs:

Charlie Barber: Henry's all set up to stay with his cousins for the week so you two can get away to the little villa he's booked in Tuscany for the two of you. You'll have the whole time to drink red wine, make homemade pasta, and fuck in the sunshine on the deck off the master bedroom.

Clyde Logan: He feels so damn lucky to be alive, to be with you. Growin' up with Jimmy, two tours in Iraq, all his adventures and misadventures, and he's finally settled down with you and happy as can be. All he wants is to sit with ya on the porch swing and watch the sunset with a beer in hand—but he won't say no to the butterscotch cake ya baked him.

Adam Sackler: Can't really believe he's fuckin' forty. He promises to put some of his commercial money in an IRA and take enough of a break from acting for a little staycation to fuck on every surface of your apartment together.

Flip Zimmerman: You sure you don't want to have a baby, sugar?

Phillip Altman: Perpetual man child. He offers to get matching cougar tattoos with you.

Rick Smolan: Motorcycle tour of Vietnam together, letting you take photos on his DSLR while you ride on the back of his bike.

Ronnie Peterson: Cabo San Lucas with you and all your friends. He wants to drink daiquiris, sing karaoke, and maybe get a sunburn at a nude beach!

#adam sackler #clyde logan #charlie barber #rick smolan #flip zimmerman #phillip altman #officer ronnie peterson #adam sackler x reader #charlie barber x reader #clyde logan x reader #ronnie peterson x reader #rick smolan x reader #phillip altman x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #adcu #jyn z snaccs #jynzandtonic writes

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fruity-phrog · 1 year

Text

Okay no one asked me why the West End revival is the gayest version of Heathers but I wanted to give evidence so here it is.

First off, let's start with the actually canon queerness. I'm talking about New Wave Girl and Stoner Girl. This only turned up in the OG West End cast, so I'll lay it out: during Me Inside Of Me, New Wave puts her arm on Stoner's shoulder, but when Stoner goes to hold her hand she pulls it away:

BUT THEN during the section of MIOM that sings "And you and you and you and youuuuu!" Stoner point to New Wave specifically (just below Ronnie and JD):

Then this happens:

Next, I shall call to the stand the fact that Duke and McNamara's relationship prior to Chandler's death - specifically, defending Duke against Chandler - is a lot more pronounced. As Duke takes Chandler's solo in Candy Store, McNamara is clearly worried and apprehensive about how Chandler will react, even miming telling Duke to get away before she gets hurt.

And later on, rushing to help Duke when she's shoved.

(I know this happens in the Bway version too, but it just hits different here because of how aggressive Chandler was)

Later, during Never Shutting Up Again, McNamara doesn't join in at all. The second Duke steals Veronica's diary, McNamara is by her side, helping her.

And then can be seen standing uncomfortably out of the way for the remainder of the song.

In the Broadway version, she joins and even adds to the lies and rumors during the reprise of Blue, contrasting to this version.

Also during Never Shutting Up Again, Heather Chandler's ghost is clearly angry. She's scowling at Kurt and Ram, throwing her hands up, stalking off, showing very obviously that she's annoyed at what's happening with the lies. She may be a mythic bitch, but they were messing with her Veronica and she was having none of it.

I couldn't get good images of this. I'm not even a big Chansaw shipper, but I found this so cute.

Finally, at the end, Duke takes Veronica's hand and reciprocates her hug.

This is something Broadway Duke doesn't do. Duke was on the edge of becoming the next Chandler, but in that moment, she decided to take whatever chance at normalcy she had and stay with Veronica and McNamara.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

#heathers #heathers musical #heathers west end #chansaw #mcduke #mcnasawyer #dukesaw #cedar crap

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hierba-picante · 5 days

Note

HI, HELLO, I'M COMING TO DROP QUESTIONS AND RUN!

Your pony-fied Moon! Does he do contortion?

For the older sibling au: What songs were you thinking of for the DCA to play? Do they serenade the older sibling?? Also when Sun and Moon learn that Gregory is related to Y/N, do a lot of things about them suddenly make more sense?

-normal-about-the-dca

Hi hi!! Yes pony Moon does do contortion! How he doesn't break his pony bones-- I don't know! But boy does he love pretending to be a pretzel! A few songs I have in mind as of now are-- The Platters: Twilight Time, Bobby Vee: The Night Has A Thousand Eyes, The Del-Vikings: Come And Go With Me, Frankie Valli and The Four Season: Ronnie, The Beatles: I Want To Hold Your Hand, The Turtles: Eleanor, The Beach Boys: Be True To Your School, The Penguins: Earth Angel, Paul Anka: Put Your Head On My Shoulder- I have many more in mind, but these were the ones I kept listening to today!! Sun and Moon would play guitar and bass! There's I think 2 or 3 songs in the list that are from the 60's so-- I'll keep the DCAs' range at that! 50s-60s music! :D As for them reacting to y/n being Gregory's older sibling- I'd imagine they're horrified at first. But! Once they get to know y/n better, they can't help but feel dumb at all the similarities that went over their heads! One similarity is y/n's clumsiness- they always have a band aid on somewhere, or their quick wit at comebacks! That's probably their favorite!! :] I can't wait to have more time to finish up drawings andfanfic to share with you guys!! This au has given me more reason and fun with drawing and writing! The most I've had in a while!! :]]

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unholyhelbig · 2 months

Note

Your Oversight story is so amazing, I’m obsessed truly. I need some domestic fluff with Nat, reader, and Ronnie. Like making cookies for Ronnie’s class or something!!! Thank you for feeding my mafia boss obsession!

Title: Little Marksman [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha's mother makes an impromtu visit to the United States, sending Natasha and Yelena into a sprial about how their mother will react to their partners.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): None, I think, just fluff!, and horrible grammar

[a/n: This isn't exactly the fluff you requested, but I think it's pretty fluffy! Thank you all for the oversight requests, I promise, I'll get to them soon!]

Check out the full Oversight universe

Natasha Romanoff did not often allow herself to indulge in the simple things. Sleeping in had long been a thing of the past, she’d spring up at the first chirp of an alarm and spend her mornings in a ritual of freshly pressed coffee, a long run that would coat her in a sheen of sweat, and then finally sitting down to attend to the boring side of business.

That, of course, had changed when she welcomed you into her life. You were decidedly not a morning person and would grumble until you found her alarm clock in the dark, shutting it off and pinning Natasha down with your dead weight as you fell back into a deep slumber. She hadn’t the heart to move you.

Then, when Veronica had gotten her own room there were some nights when Natasha would stir from her vigilant sleep. She’d startle, really. Your daughter was mostly silent during the day and happened to be worse at night. She would stand at the bottom of the bed, contemplating waking you.

It only ever bothered you after you watched the ring for the first time. After that, you would sense her presence and it seemed like Natasha was the same. She sat up and blinked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Hi baby,” Natasha croaked, “are you alright?”

Natasha saw the silhouette of Ronnie shake her head and the woman looked sparingly at you. Light breathes escaped you, dead to the world. She heard the little word, barely a whisper. “Nightmare.”

It tugged at Natasha’s heart to the point where it was almost painful. She wanted to wrap her up that first night, pull her close until she wasn’t afraid of whatever had plagued her in her dreams. Tentatively, she scooted to the far side of the mattress and patted the space she’d created between the both of you.

Veronica snuggled under the blankets, shivering as her cold began to ebb away. Natasha felt stiff for a moment, lying on her back. She could feel your daughter’s body heat against her, and made the conscious choice not to move closer.

“You can talk about it, if you want.” She eventually whispered. “I’m here to listen, Ronnie, malen'kiy strelok.”

Little Marksman. Her father used to call Natasha the same, despite her not being the greatest shot. But, she was better than Yelena and that’s all the mattered at the moment. The term of endearment rolled off her tongue like honey and shocked her in the process.

Veronica didn’t say anything, she often didn’t, but she wrapped her tiny, strong arms around Natasha’s arm and buried her cheek into her, reveling in the close contact. She softened instantly and found herself staying awake until Ronnie’s breath evened out.

Neither her alarm, nor Ronnie stirred her this particular morning. Instead, it was a frantic knocking at her door. The sun streaming through the blinds indicated that she had been given the chance to sleep in, and if that wasn’t enough, you had left a little note on her side table: Get some sleep, I’ll handle the morning meetings. Love you!

It was close to noon, from her estimate, so you had kept up your end of the bargain. Natasha groaned into the silk pillow and pulled her way to the door. She glowered at the woman that stood on the other side.

“Did someone die?” Natasha grumbled, “Because you’re about to.”

“You are incredibly grumpy in the morning, has anyone ever told you that?”

Yelena shoved her way into the room. She was holding an envelope that had yet to be opened. There was a specific floral scent, almost like roses. Natasha crinkled her nose; she knew that smell. It had been a constant soothing presence throughout her childhood and beyond. Sometimes, she would walk into random rooms and catch a whisp of the spectral scent.

She snatched the envelope from her sister. It had already been crudely ripped, despite Natasha’s name being on it. This was a federal offense- but most of the stuff that this family did was, so it bothered her surprisingly little.

“Mama is coming for a visit.”

Yelena spilled the words out before Natasha could process the neat Russian writing. Her stomach dropped. Melina and Alexi had moved to a small far just outside of Moscow years ago. They stated that they wanted to get out of the city, but really, Alexi couldn’t keep his hands out of the business if they stayed in the city.

They would call every once and awhile, but were mostly solitary. She’d get a call on Christmas, and her birthday and sometimes the anniversary of her first kill. That one was hit or miss. Rarely- never- had Melina decided to drop by.

“I may have let it slip that you have a girlfriend.”

“Yelena!” Natasha shoved her roughly “Why would you do that?”

“It just came out! She was grilling me about Kate, and I panicked. You know yours is more put together than mine.”

“You threw me under the bus.”

Yelena had a genuinely sad look on her face, one that was borderline pouty. Natasha growled through clenched teeth and finally got a chance to read her mother’s writing. She’d be here tomorrow, and there was too much to do. Natasha’s head started to spin.

In fact, you weren’t more put together than Kate. The two of you seemed to feed off of each other’s chaos. It was fine to deal with on a regular basis, but Melina was like a bloodhound. She would smell fear, and she would play into it until you both were reduced to a crushable size.

Oh, this was not good.

Natasha must have paled noticeably because Yelena took a tepid step closer, creasing her fingers against the empty pink envelope. Melina would be flying alone. She’d be here in two days and that didn’t give either girls much time to process the invasion at all.

Though her father was a stern man in practice, he was much easier to impress than her mother. They balanced one another out, and that was something that would be sorely missed during this visit.

She took a steadying breath, running her fingers over the dented familiarity of her mothers perfect script. There was nothing to worry about, right?

Despite Natasha’s multiple text messages to her mother, insisting that she would send a car to pick her up, Melina took a cab from the airport, not bothering to let either of her daughters in on the fact. She knew the address of her pervious home like the back of her hand, knew the deep green grass of the landscaping and the stretching view of the harbor.

Natasha had been pacing the length of the family room for most of the day. Yelena was draped over the loveseat, her limbs hanging over the sides, making her look nearly lanky compared to the furniture.

“Natasha, please, you are going to wear a hole in the carpet.”

“How can you be so calm?” She halted her pacing, cutting her sister a deadly look.

“I am not calm. I simply mask it better than you.”

The muffled sound of a car door closing made Yelena shoot up from her lounging position, she was standing next to Natasha now, both of them staring wildly at the large oak doors. You and Kate had been sent out with a massive grocery list and it was much too early for the two of you to return with Ronnie. In fact, you usually stopped for some ice cream, or a small lunch as a reward for the tiny girl.

Natasha deemed it better not to inform you, nor Kate, about her mother’s visit. It could be considered cruel, sure, but knowing you the warning would do nothing but send you into an immense panic and that would simply spur her mother on.

Melina had arrived with nothing more than a half-packed duffel bag. She always packed light, using the key on her ring to open the door to the place that was once her home. Natasha and Yelena lingered by the curved entryway, watching as the woman, perfectly sculpted and entirely unchanged, smiled softly at the décor.

“Do not just stand there, girls, come give mama a hug.”

It was an order that Yelena folded in on first. She was stiff at first but at the floral scent that her mother carried like a vice, she melted into the embrace. There was nothing like a mothers hug, and that was evident by her body language.

“Aw, sweet girl” Melina pulled back and squished Yelena’s face between her hands “you are much too lean. Is this Kate girl not feeding you?”

“Mama, prekrati eto” She grumbled, batting the woman away.

Melina narrowed her eyes but focused her attention on her oldest daughter. She grasped both of her hands first, giving them a small squeeze before pulling her into her embrace. Natasha melted, pressed her nose against the side of her mother’s neck. It had been much too long, and despite being reduced to a little girl in this moment, she didn’t seem to mind.

“You’ve healed nicely,” Melina said.

Of course, her mother had heard about the two shots that Natasha took to the back. She had been lucky and avoided any major injury. They were simply superficial, but she could understand how it would sound brutal all the same.

“Now,” she clapped her hands together, getting a devilish look in her eye “where is my granddaughter?”

Natasha choked on air before she glared at Yelena with a look that could kill. Her mother’s hand was patting her back. She’d become tender with age, it seemed. Still, a force to be reckon with, Natasha wouldn’t dare try anything.

“Your granddaughter?”

“Please, Natalia, she sleeps in your bed. Marriage or not, she’s your child. That’s how we got Clint, isn’t it?”

She was at a loss for words. Melina had a point. Clint was a mere stranger to Natasha until her parents took both her and Yelena to the circus that traveled through town. Her younger sister was nothing more than a baby, but Natasha was mystified. More than the clowns, and the acrobats, she had interest in the knife thrower and his charge.

A little boy that was around the same age as Natasha. When the show was over, Natasha refused to move until the young boy, covered in dirt and with dark purple bags under his eyes, started to sweep piles of popcorn and empty paper cups to the sidelines.

She’d introduced herself, and though he was quiet, she took an instant liking to him. Alexi had a few choice words with the boys guardian, who turned out, didn’t want to keep the kid and regarded him as nothing more than an employee- a runaway that had latched onto the circus. He had no idea who the boy belonged to, and Alexi decided that Clint belonged to them, now.

Instead of Clint being like family, he was family.

“Oh Mama, she will marry this girl.” Yelena beamed, “titles be damned.”

Natasha groaned into her hands. Had she thought about marriage? Yes, absolutely. She wanted nothing more than to make you officially hers. But she wanted to wait until the perfect moment; she wanted to not only include Ronnie, but get her input as well.

Melina gave a beautiful smile, patting Natasha’s cheek “I know, moya milaya. Are you not going to show me to my room?”

It was apparent that you and Kate had been sent on a fools errand when you finally got to the store and got a better look at the handwritten list that you were given: Milk, eggs, bread, A single MTS-I Mortorq screw, VW Mk4 Golf R32 duel clutch plate- and seriously, what the hell was that?

Darcy would know, and would have caught on a lot faster than you or Kate did. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that there was no reason to go to the store at all. You’d gone two days prior and knew for a fact that you’d gotten everything recognizable on the list.

“Kid,” Kate gave Ronnie’s had a squeeze “we’ve been played, bamboozled, tricked.”

Your daughter lifted an eyebrow at the woman’s antics. In a few years, she’d move on to eye rolling, and while you weren’t prepared for it, you would be glad for the indication. You’d done it yourself, crumpling up the list and shoving it into your pocket. There was no need to brave the crowds in the grocery store.

Instead, you aimed your sights on the small frozen yogurt place that was nestled in between a shoe store and a Gamestop. You might as well get a treat while you were out, considering Natasha requested you go further than the closest store because she liked the bread at this one better.

“They clearly wanted us out of the house. But why?”

“Yelena usually tells me everything.”

“Huh,”

“What? She does!”

“Doesn’t seem like the type.”

A sweet frozen scent hit your lungs and the little bell above the door sounded. There was a less than enthusiastic employee behind the counter, moving like molasses. You did have to kill time…apparently.

Veronica spoke up when dessert was involved. She didn’t carry a conversation with the teenager, but she did give little indicating sounds. Your arms were crossed over your chest to stave off the cold, and you settled for a simple chocolate. Ronnie loaded hers with a bunch of toppings, and Kate got vanilla with extra (extra) rainbow sprinkles. Each bite she took crunched like gravel.

“The point is, she didn’t say anything about something going down, and if it was, wouldn’t they want us there? Clint’s out of town so we’re the only muscle they’ve got.”

The employee behind the counter lifted an eyebrow at you both and you made sure to stick an extra couple of bills in the tip jar with a sheepish smile. You ushered them both to one of the benches outside, basking in the highpoint of the sun and cursing Kate’s tact, or lack thereof.

“You’ve got a point. Maybe it’s something personal?” You suggested, reaching your pink plastic spoon over and stealing a bite of Ronnie’s candy-coated yogurt. She batted you away, a little too slow and you claimed your prize.

“Yelena tells me-“

“Everything, I know.”

Kate took her own scoop of frozen yogurt and crunched on it thoughtfully. “They’re nervous. If they’re being this secretive. They sent us out for car parts for a car that none of us own.”

“Lena said that Mama is coming for a visit.”

Ronnie’s feet didn’t’ touch the ground and she was working at dislodging a frozen gummy bear that became mostly inedible. She kicked back and forth and only looked up from her task when she was met with silence.

Kate’s mouth was propped open, and your eyes were wide. She frantically glanced between the both of you and shrugged her little shoulders. “This is one of those things I’m supposed to tell you, right?”

Kate nodded, suddenly losing her appetite “Uh-huh,”

You’d heard about Melina before, in passing, but Natasha seemed to bristle about the woman. She did the same for her father, but you knew the legends of Alexi and his kind hand when it came to running the city. Her mother was entirely different; entirely horrifying.

You’d seen a picture of her in a small and dusty shoe-box while helping Natasha clean out the attic one day last summer. It was stiflingly hot, and you were shocked to find it framed, but shoved away all the same.

Natasha was young, maybe around eleven, and Clint was next to her, smiling with missing front teeth. Yelena was smaller, the large hands of Alexi engulfing her shoulders. And then there was Melina, even in casual cargo shorts and striped tank-top, she looked regal and oh-so intimidating.

Your girlfriends’ arms wrapped around her midsection, her chin resting on your shoulder. She gave you a squeeze and stared down at the photo you were holding.

“You were cute as a kid.”

“were?”

“Still are!” you corrected, smiling lazily down at the family photo.

There was something longing behind your gaze that Natasha admired. Not that she would tell you that. Instead, she told you about the trip to Busche Gardens that ended in Clint nearly drowning and Yelena throwing up after she scarfed down three corndogs and a funnel cake.

Now you felt like you would vomit yourself, sliding your frozen yogurt away with a frown. You were far from prepared to meet Melina Romanoff, and by the green look on Kate’s face, so was she.

“Oh, we are so fuc… screwed. We’re screwed.”

“I know the word fuck, mommy says it all the time.”

“Just because I say it doesn’t mean you can. Eat your yogurt.”

You were clearly having a crisis and Veronica was clearly enjoying the fact that you’d given up on your frozen yogurt. She took alternating bites and would most definitely lose her appetite if she kept going, but you couldn’t’ bring yourself to push it away.

“Why wouldn’t they tell us?” you asked.

“Probably because of this” Kate made a vague gesture “this who panicking thing? Melina is going to kill us both and then it won’t matter but they decided to spare us the torture of waiting for this day.”

It felt like slowly working a mouse away from a glue trap by the time your frozen yogurt had turned to nothing but a brown soup. There was nothing to hold you and Kate from home now, and Ronnie was growing restless under the hand of the sun. You swore you heard her mutter something about Grandma, but chose to ignore it entirely in favor for pure fear.

Natasha seemed to be waiting at the door to intercept both you before you went any further. Not that you minded her soothing hand on your chest, and an apologetic look in her eyes. She smoothed your shirt down once, and then nervously, twice.

“Sweetie, I don’t think it’ll un-wrinkle, no matter how hot your hands are.”

“See that,” She whispered harshly, “Is something we’re not going to do. Both of you need to be on your best behavior. Understood? Better than best. Kate maybe don’t… talk.”

“Aye, captain.”

The younger woman frowned at her own words and instead settled for miming zipping her lips shut. Maybe it would better for you not to talk either. From your spot in the foyer, with Ronnie clinging to the fabric of your jeans, you could hear the muffled Russian. Yelena was responding to something, a bit of a whining tone to her voice.

Natasha’s hands had made their way to yours. She knit them together, a sort of an anchor. The other hand reached down to Ronnie, who was suddenly shy despite her earlier indifference. You could throw up right here and now but figured that would only serve to embarrass you further.

There was a clear similarity between Melina and Natasha; the high cheek bones, the striking green gaze, the flawless skin. She held the same cold stare that her daughter did but could hide her emotions better than your girlfriend. A stone dropped in your stomach under her gaze.

Natasha squeezed your hand tighter, her thumb on your pulse point. The pad of her finger ran over it gently, assuredly. She knew you were horrified. Kate gulped (which to her credit, was technically not talking, but was still painfully audible.)

Melina had a knife in her hand, a half-carved apple resting between she and Yelena like a peace offering. There were differences in the cuts, one smoother, the other more practiced. This family found leisure activity in carving techniques.

Natasha warned in a breath “Bud' milym, mama.”

Her mother didn’t heed the warning. Instead, she closed the difference between you. Yelena instinctively tightened her grip on the kitchen knife, not that she’d ever use it. Melina scrutinized you for what seemed like years, but was only a few ticking seconds.

“Ona khoroshen'kaya”

“spasibo, Miss Romanoff”

“ah, you know Russian?”

“Yelena has been teaching me.” You swallowed the dryness in your throat as her raised eyebrow lowered to something less intimidating. “Ma’am.”

“Manners too. Maybe you can teach my Natalia something or two about that.”

You felt you cheeks heat up and you diverted your eyes to the floor. It had directed the attention in the room to the small girl clinging to your leg as if it were a piece of beached driftwood and she were fighting against the raging currents.

Melina knelt down in front of your daughter, her rigid stance loosening until she looked more like a mother than yourself. She was soft in this moment, the sun hitting her eyes in a way that made them glow supernaturally.

“Hi, Malen'kiy strelok”

Natasha parted her lips, as if to inform her mother that Veronica didn’t speak much, if at all. She’d gotten better, sure, but it was nearly stagnant with new people. Ronnie studied Melina as the woman had studied you.

“What does that mean?” Ronnie asked, her grip lessening.

Melina smiled “Little marksman. From what I hear, your mother has a very good aim. Do you?”

“I don’t know yet. Kate says I do.”

“Well, I’m sure we will find out in due time, milaya devushka.” She tentatively tucked a strand of hair behind Ronnie’s ear before standing again and focusing her attention on Kate. Kate who had paled at least ten shades and was sweating despite the air conditioning in the house.

Yelena straightened up herself, giving a silent warning with her stare. Of course, Kate didn’t’ see it like you and Natasha did, her arm having moved from your hand to your hip bone in the quiet approval from her mother. She’d relaxed significantly.

“Hi,” Kate squeaked out and Yelena stifled a groan put massaged her temple.

Melina seemed to look to Natasha for confirmation: This is the one she chooses?

With you, there was merit. There were callouses on your hands and scars that hardened under the fabric of your shirt. Kate was much of the same, though, she showed it in a nervous, fluttering type of way that presented outwardly as fumbling and awkward.

“Krasivo, no... puglivo. Like deer.” Melina offered a small smile to the girl and her breath seemed to release.

Skittish. Kate was certainly that, but she seemed to balance out Yelena with the perfect amount of caring and heart. Melina was nothing, if not vigilant. She clapped her hands together, that small smile turning into a large grin. “You all must eat something, you look starving. And Natasha, you are slouching, don’t’ slouch in front of your daughter. Those bad manners.”

“Mama, I am not slouching.”

Natasha groaned as the tension in the room broke. Her forehead pushed against your cheek. Veronica dragged Kate over to the kitchen island by the hand and instruction on the proper way to carve pieces from an apple began, much to Yelena’s huffing dismay.

Hands shifted from your hips, finding the two back pockets of your jeans. “She likes you,”

“I would be dead by now if she didn’t.”

“Yeah, right when you walked through the door.”

The two of you chuckled, her nose nudging against yours. “She called Ronnie your daughter.”

“I’m sorry, dorogoy, she pushes. She means well.”

You pressed a small kiss to the corner of her mouth, words a light whisper “don’t apologize. I like the sound of it.”

Before Natasha could collect her thoughts, her rush of pure emotion, you had pulled away from her and joined the rest of the family around the kitchen island. Though she couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, Natasha was more than content standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.

Her heart pounded fondly.

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