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#she was being yelled at by black bird
lost-fool-wandering · 2 years
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...
-L.F.
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astorianyxkings · 6 months
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One of my favourite things to think about is Jason being a mean big brother to the batlings but a shy little brother to Dick.
Tim asks him if he wants to go with him to blow something up and he's super excited but in that annoying little brother way so Jason just grunts "No. Get lost baby bird." And goes about his day as normal.
Damian tries to get him to practice training with katanas like back in the LoA days and he ruffles his hair and says "No demon brat, go bother Dick." Damian swears he'll catch him off guard, Jason flips him off.
Cass wants Jason to sit down with her and watch a movie. Normally he could never say no to his sister but the other day she claimed to be older than him so he's got an ego to protect. He pats her on the head, assures her he adores her and then tells her he'd rather die (again) than binge My Cousin Vinny.
Steph chases him around because Cass is pouting and Tim's recruited her to blow up the warehouse but she has this really nice shade of purple that would look perfect on Cass but now she needs a new test subject. "Just one hand!" Steph yells throwing a well aimed pillow at the back of Jason's head. "No way in hell blondie." Jason huffs, dodging it.
Maybe he should just leave the manor? Solid plan right? Wrong. Duke, having well adjusted to his new life as a Wayne, let's himself into the safehouse Jason's in and asks for help on this case because "Look I know Black Mask is just using the diner as a front. Help me out here." Jason's having none of it, Duke is old enough to be lovingly scorned like the rest, "With all due disrespect, piss off." He tells him, patting him on the back and leading him out of the door.
What he doesn't count on is all of them telling on him. Not to Bruce or Alfred, no. To Dick.
Jason finds this out when he shows up to Dick's apartment asking for a second pair of eyes on a case and Dick sharply cuts him off with a simple "No."
He's flabbergasted because Dick loves him? Dick's his big brother? Why is his big brother rejecting him? He's gonna need a whole therapy session on that alone.
Jason pouts and sulks and goes back to his apartment and Dick rolls his eyes. He loves his brother, really he does. But he needs to be humbled every now and then.
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janaispunk · 3 months
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it’s nice to have a friend
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this is a secret santa gift for @wethairjoel - merry christmas my love 🫶🏻
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
word count: ~2.6k
summary: Joel and you have been best friends for years, but maybe this Christmas it’s time for the both of you to admit that that’s not all you want. (Goddamn I should write Hallmark movies)
tags: no outbreak!AU, friends to lovers, idiots in love, Sarah is alive, Ellie is reader’s sister, able-bodied reader, bits of angst/jealousy, Joel being emotionally constipated, mentions of alcohol consumption, FLUFF <3
dividers by @/saradika-graphics who is amazing!
full masterlist here / follow @janaispunknotifs and turn on notifications for fic updates!
much love to @reddedmiller for assuring me that this is cute and not terrible, i love you 🫶🏻
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“Ellie, come on! They’re here!”
Your back is turned to the door as you’re yelling up the staircase, waiting for your younger sister to finally come down. You turn around, fixing the open door and your waiting friend Joel with a tired smile.
“Hi,” you sigh, waving at Sarah, who’s waiting in the backseat of Joel’s truck.
“Rough morning?” Joel chuckles and lets you pull him into a quick hug.
As you’re nodding, Ellie finally comes trudging down the stairs, her backpack haphazardly thrown over one shoulder and her hair in a loose ponytail. She wordlessly flips you the bird as she walks past you and you roll your eyes, used to her grumpy mood in the morning.
“Sorry,” you mutter in Joel’s direction, ushering her out of the door, “didn’t mean to make you guys late.”
Joel laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, darlin’, it’s no big deal.”
He casually throws an arm over your shoulder as he leads you to his car and opens the passenger side’s door for you while Ellie is already climbing in beside Sarah.
Joel starts the car and makes his way to the girls’ school, the radio playing soft rock music in the background and the girls chattering away behind you.
“Thanks again for doing this,” you smile at Joel.
“‘Course. You’re the one doin’ me a favor here, really.”
Joel and you had both agreed to take the day off and go shopping for Christmas presents for your girls while they were at school.
You had moved to Austin two years ago, a few months after becoming Ellie’s legal guardian. Ellie and Sarah had classes together and had quickly become best friends, easing your worries about Ellie being an outsider at her new school, and they asked to spend more time together outside of classes almost constantly.
That’s how you met Joel, the both of you bonding over being the sole caregiver for your girls and being younger than most other parents at the school. It’s an easy friendship and one that you cherish greatly. Joel is a good friend, making you laugh when you’re with him, always willing to help if anything at your house needs fixing, hosting barbecues for the four almost every weekend in the summer, and someone you can always turn to for parenting advice.
So what if he’s also so handsome that it almost hurts to look at him sometimes and your heart rate still picks up when he’s close to you? When you had first started hanging out more, you had thought that there might be more between you, with the way he kept calling you “darlin’” and the flirty remarks he threw at you, but nothing more ever happened and he never gave you any indication that he wanted anything more, so you figured that it was just his southern charm and that he treated everybody like this. Not wanting to screw up the one real friendship that you had managed to build in your new hometown, you continued to swallow down any deeper feelings, any attraction that you might feel towards him.
You drop the girls off at school and continue the drive downtown, stopping on the way for a coffee. Joel, who you have never seen drinking anything else than plain black coffee, teases you relentlessly over the Christmas themed drink with syrup and an obnoxious amount of whipped cream that you have picked for yourself. It’s a never ending discussion that comes up every time you have coffee together and one that you've gotten used to, with Joel not understanding why you would taint the coffee’s taste and you not understanding how he’s able to drink the bitter beverage without smoothing it out with milk at least.
When you finally reach the mall, already packed with bustling crowds of Christmas shoppers, you sigh. At least you’re not alone, and you have a plan of what you want to get. You pull out the list of potential gifts and stores where you might get them that you had written the night before, making Joel chuckle.
“Always prepared for anythin’, huh?”
You grin back and nudge him with your elbow. “You’re gonna thank me later, trust me.”
“Don’t doubt it,” he mutters and follows you through the crowd of people, a calming presence by your side.
You make a good team, somehow both more equipped to pick out presents for the other’s young girl. Sarah had wished for new CDs, movies and posters of her favorite bands to redecorate her room, an endeavor that you’re more than happy to help with. Ellie wants new strings and picks for her guitar, one that you had bought second hand and that Joel is teaching her to play almost every weekend, and new drawing utensils.
Due to your thorough planning, you manage to secure all the goods before noon, a fact that you don’t hesitate to rub into Joel’s face and he reluctantly agrees that this shopping trip had been done much faster than if he had gone alone, playing up his grumpy demeanor but you know him well enough to see the warm and playful glint in his eyes.
Since you still have a few hours to yourselves until the girls will return from school, you decide to get another coffee and maybe a snack together, this time actually sitting down in a café rather than picking it up. You’re treating yourself to another fancy drink, Joel is sipping on another black coffee and you’re sharing a blueberry muffin while you’re talking about your plans for the holidays.
Ellie and you will be over at the Millers for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, a tradition that you had established last year and that you’re more than grateful for. You love Ellie and she’s the only family that you care about, but you want her to have the best time possible, especially at Christmas.
Joel excuses himself to use the bathroom and leaves you alone at the table. You’re aimlessly scrolling through your phone when another person sits down in Joel’s seat. You look up slowly, taking in the guy in front of you. Slim, blonde, about your age, kind of handsome, you presume, if that part of your mind wasn’t taken up by another man. But that’s not a thought that you’re supposed to have, you try reminding yourself.
“Hey,” the man says, smiling at you. He has a handsome smile, too. “I’m Dan.” He extends a hand to you and you shake it, too perplexed to do much else.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, I just came in and saw you sitting here all alone and I just thought I’d take the chance and ask if you wanted to go out with me sometime?”
You stare at him for a second, the question barely registering in your brain, before you snap out of it. Why not, you tell yourself, this might be good for you. Good to get the idea of Joel and you out of your head once and for all.
“I- um, yeah. Sure!”
You plaster a smile on your face and exchange phone numbers with Dan who promises to text you and gets up just as Joel comes back, scowling at Dan’s retreating back.
“Who was that?” he asks, and you wonder if you’re imagining his tone being colder than it was before he left.
“Just a guy,” you murmur, feeling embarrassed and weirdly guilty, “wanted to go out with me, I guess.”
“And, will you?” You’re not imagining it, Joel definitely sounds colder.
“Maybe. I don’t know. Who knows if he’ll even text me,” you shrug and stand up abruptly, suddenly desperate to get out of the situation, “let’s go.”
Joel’s answering huff doesn’t do much to calm you down and the walk back to the car is more silent than you’re used to with him, none of the usual bantering between you two.
He drops you off at your house and while you had planned to invite him in to maybe start wrapping your gifts together, you’re now kind of desperate to get out of this weird tension between you, so you just grab your bags and hop out of the truck. Joel mumbles his goodbye and you watch him drive off while you’re standing in your doorway, your eyebrows furrowed. You think that maybe something just soured his mood, even if you can’t fathom what it might have been, and calm yourself with the thought that you’ll just text him later.
You do just that, sending him a photo of your wrapped gifts a few hours after you got home, but he doesn’t respond. You don’t hear from him for several days, your calls remaining unanswered and there are no replies to your texts. You actually resort to asking Ellie if Sarah has said anything, but she’s just as clueless as you are.
The weekend rolls around and you go on your date with Dan, who, unlike someone else, has texted you. He takes you out for lunch and while the date is nice and he’s being polite, easy to have a conversation with and you’re fighting with yourself trying to like him, you’re bored.
You don’t feel any spark between the two of you, a spark that you, as you begrudgingly have to admit to yourself, always feel when you’re with Joel. You decidedly swallow that thought back down as soon as it occurs to you, but it stays in the back of your mind, like a kind of craving that you just can’t turn off.
You tell Dan that you’re sorry but that you don’t see the two of you turn into anything more, which he accepts graciously and wishes you all the best and you once again want to kick yourself for not feeling anything at all for this kind and blissfully uncomplicated man.
Grinding your teeth, you call Joel the next evening and to your surprise, he finally picks up.
“Where the hell have you been?” you demand without as much as a greeting.
“Just busy with work,” his voice huffs through the speaker and you can’t help but start feeling slightly more at ease at the sound of it, even if you don’t believe that he was too busy to contact you for days, but at least he picked up your call now.
“How’d your date go?”
He sounds… careful, like he’s not sure if he wants to know the answer. You’re confused for a second; you didn’t even have the chance to tell him about those plans; until your gaze falls on your sister who’s sitting on the couch opposite from you with headphones over her ears and frantically scribbling in her notebook.
“Between Sarah and Ellie, no secret is safe, huh?” you grin.
“So it’s a secret?” His voice is tense.
“I guess not, I just didn’t- I don’t know.” You huff a frustrated sigh. “But it doesn’t matter, I’m not gonna see him again, so…”
“Did he do something?” Joel demands immediately and you feel your cheeks warming at the way he switches into protective mode.
“No no, don’t get all riled up. He was nice, just… not it. I wasn’t really interested in him anyway, so.”
“Huh,” Joel mumbles and though you can’t see him, you can tell that some of the tension is dissolving.
You chat a little more, working out the finer parts of the plans for your shared Christmas celebration in a few days, and by the end of the phone call, you feel like things between you are back to normal.
It’s the second Christmas Eve that you’ve spent at the Miller household and it’s just as chaotic as the first one. Joel’s brother Tommy comes to visit, bringing with him a bottle of whiskey and an air of mischief that immediately infects the two girls who are already giddy with the energy of Christmas, the prospect of getting presents tomorrow morning and the inevitable sugar high that comes with consuming mountains of Christmas cookies.
Ellie and you are meant to sleep over, Ellie in Sarah’s room and you in the guest room, so you indulge in a few glasses of whiskey, feeling pleasantly tipsy and like a warm, hazy glow is surrounding you. You sing Christmas songs along to the radio with the girls, laugh loudly at Tommy’s crude jokes and even get Joel, who is slightly drunk himself, to dance with you for a few minutes.
When you finally retreat to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water, you somehow already sense Joel’s presence behind you before he speaks up.
“Hey,” he murmurs as you turn around, his gaze trained on the floor at your feet.
“Hey,” you echo, searching his face, “what’s up?”
He rubs his neck, a mannerism that you’ve come to connect with him feeling uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, “I know I’ve been acting weird around you the past week, and…” he trails off again, still not meeting your gaze. Joel has never been good at expressing his feelings, and you can’t deny that you’re curious about what he’s going to say. You knew that it hadn’t been just about work stuff. Joel takes a deep breath, seemingly steeling himself for what he’s about to tell you.
“I didn’t- shit, I’m not good at this.” He rubs his neck again. “I didn’t want you to go out with that guy. And I know that that’s no excuse, but I wanted… I wanted you to go out with me. I’ve wanted that for quite some time, honestly. And I never knew how to tell you, I didn’t want to ruin the friendship that we have, but then that- that fuckin’ guy came along and I just thought, what if I had my chance and I missed it? But still, I shouldn’t have put that on you, I-”
You interrupt his rambling when you step into his space and place your hand on his upper arm, his gaze finally flying up to meet yours.
“You wanted… to go out with me?” you whisper, almost not able to believe what you’ve just heard.
“I- yes. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’ll never mention it again, I just wanted you to know.” He shrugs helplessly and you can’t help the smile that’s slowly growing on your face.
“Joel,” you murmur, taking another step closer to him. “I’d love to go out with you. I never thought- you never said anything, and I didn’t want to make things awkward between us, but…”
This might be it, the moment that you’ve always hoped for but never thought would happen.
“I like you. More than as a friend. I mean, I really like you.”
Now you’re avoiding his gaze, feeling heat flush your cheeks at your admission. You feel his fingers on your chin, tilting your face up to meet his warm brown eyes, so close to you.
“Guess we’ve both been kinda idiots,” he smirks.
A grin is slowly spreading on your face. “Guess so.”
He leans towards you and your eyes slowly close, just before his lips touch yours.
None of you are aware of the audience that’s observing the both of you from the living room.
“Fuckin’ finally,” Tommy mutters as he leans back into the couch and takes another sip of whiskey. Sarah and Ellie both sigh in agreement.
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thank you so much for reading! if you liked it, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment - nothing would make me happier 🫶🏻
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erwinsvow · 20 days
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They call you the clueless pogue. The pretty one. 
You don’t care much either way—that comes from years of being Kiara’s best friend, she’s taught you well on how to ignore what other people think and say about you. Maybe you would care more, you think one day, watching JJ and Pope drive each other crazy while trying to fix something that’s inexplicably gone wrong with the Twinkie. John B is swinging in the hammock, eyes closed, empty beer in his hand that is soon replaced with a fresh one by Kie. She drops the old can into a bin that has the recycling symbol drawn on with a sharpie, her own creation. She walks towards you with a can of fruity seltzer since it’s well known with your new friends that you refuse to drink beer—and it all feels very domestic.
You might care about what other people say if you didn’t love your friends so much.
You are a little clueless though—at least the boys think so. They wouldn’t dare to say anything when your protective best friend was around, but when it’s just you and one of them, or all of them, it comes out a little more. 
You wear the kind of clothes that they wouldn’t let a sister of theirs be caught dead in. They never used to care about stuff like that, not until you started hanging around more often. It was the result of absent parents that were only on the island a few months out of the year. The rest of the time you had free reign, and an unlimited credit card that often funded their adventures—gas for the Twinkie, beer for the night, a new outfit to wear to the party. 
JJ gets into a fist-fight with a guy who keeps offering you a drink from the keg, not listening no matter how many times you refuse and grabbing the short hem of your yellow dress to yank you back. JJ doesn’t mean to knock him out—it’s just like instinct, he explains later that night to John B and Pope while you’re sound asleep on the pull-out with Kiara—the way he feels protective over you.
“Are you okay?” Kie asks, and you smooth out your dress from where that guy had grabbed it.
“Only because JJ saved me,” you say, looking at him with big doe eyes and fluttering eyelashes. He swallows uncomfortably.
“No biggie, princess, I mean you know me, I’m a big damsel-in-stress kinda guy-” Kiara rolls her eyes and brings you inside, and he’s left standing there with pink-tinged ears.
He doesn’t tell them about how you were looking around for someone, anyone to help, how scared you look when he touched you, how your face visibly eased when you locked eyes with JJ, how you held a bag of frozen peas to his black eye and kissed his cheek before going back to find everyone earlier. He decides to keep that for himself.
You don’t keep an eye out for your surroundings when you tag along on their adventures either. That’s pretty much John B’s responsibility now, walking towards the back with you. You often start looking around, head in the clouds, staring at the trees and sky and walking right into a pile of mud or a puddle.
“Wow, the air is so clean out here,” you comment while taking a deep breath. It’s said quiet enough that only he can hear you.
“Yeah, pretty girl, that’s because of all the trees.” You laugh and shove his arm, because duh, but you can’t respond because the others are yelling for you two to catch up.
He doesn’t let you lead—you’ve cried over too many ruined shoes for him to risk it anymore—instead he holds onto your hand firmly, gripping tight when he needs you to slow down and pulling gently when it’s okay to proceed. It’s his job to make sure all the bugs are out of the way, that you’re not walking into a spiderweb or running after a butterfly or pretty bird. The others tease you two and laugh, but you still thank him with a tight hug, the thin material of your sports bra not really hiding much, murmuring something about no signs of mud on your new sneakers.
“Yeah, anytime,” he breathes after you’ve already walked away. You turn back to smile at him, adjusting your ridden-up tennis skirt you’d sported today. “Wouldn’t wanna dirty those shoes.”
You make Pope feel like the smartest guy in the world sometimes, without even trying. It’s not like you’re stupid, because he knows you’re not, but when you bite your cheek and tap his shoulder to ask him another question about whatever you were working on, your words start going to his head. 
“So if I wanna save this and put them all together, I just use this program? And I just use the mouse?” you say thoughtfully, repeating his instructions back to him.
“Yes, sweetheart,” and he tries his best to make sure he sounds patient—he’s learned from experience you don’t react well if you even suspect he’s getting frustrated.
Pope watches you play with the thin straps of your shirt before the string idly falls off your shoulder, exposing a swath of soft, sweet-smelling skin to him. Staring at your bare shoulder, he thinks he could never get frustrated at you even if he tried his hardest.  When you finish making your little vision-board on photoshop, you turn to show him proudly, and he is proud, with how well you followed his instructions and weren’t too shy to keep asking for his help. Later that night at the Chateau, you lean against his shoulder with his arm swung around you on the couch and explain what each of the images mean until you fall asleep. 
They’re all playing a game of chicken—wondering which one will be the first to cross that line and suggest something more than just friendship to you. Through empty cases of beer and boys-only fishing trips they’ve briefly discussed to each other that they’re interested, but of respect—to each other, not really to you—they haven’t made the first move just yet. No matter how difficult you make it.
At the beach you help the boys wax their surfboards, taking turns with each one, floating around a little tipsy already from your fruity drink. They’re all talking, but you don’t really pay attention, eyes staring at something in the distance.
JJ covers his mouth, imitating a walkie noise. 
“Hello, uh, earth to princess, over.” 
You turn back to him and his board, dropping the chunk of wax and leaning in. He blanks for a second—your pretty face getting closer, an eyeful of your tits in the tiny bikini you’re wearing today making his head spin. And you’re infront of everyone, which is definitely not how he’d thought he would win this little competition. 
“Do you see that pretty girl over there? Three o’clock?” 
“I see a pretty girl right in front of me,” he says, and you laugh, pushing his shoulder. He doesn’t realize that you think he’s just joking. 
“Jayj, seriously. See her?” He nods, but still doesn’t turn to look. “She’s been staring at you for, like, ten minutes. You should go over there!” 
You’re smiling big, like the idea of another girl talking to him sounds fun. He pulls back from you, confused.
“I need another beer.” He stalks off, walking to the boys while you turn to Kiara.
“What did I do wrong? I’m trying to get him laid-” Kiara rolls her eyes. You turn and see the boys in deep conversation, occasionally glancing back at you and Kie.
“She just told me to go flirt with some girl, like, right in front of her. I mean is this some kind of test?” He takes a long chug of the beer, sounding about as stressed as Pope and John B have ever seen. “Do I fail if I hook up with some rando? Or do I fail if I don’t hook up? It’s Schindler’s cat, man-”
“That’s not-” Pope starts, before being cut off.
“Sorry, sorry. Schrodinger’s kids.”
“No, JJ-”
“What the hell does she mean? So she wants us to hook up with other people?” John B cuts in, looking back at you, but something else on the beach seems to have caught your attention.
“Woah, I’m not doing that, but you two are more than welcome-” 
“Yeah, nice try, Pope. We get with some girl so you can tell her you stayed loyal and win her over? I don’t think so, genius-”
“Well, you’re the one she’s trying to set up so I think I’m pretty safe right now-”
“It’s not a reality show Pope, you can’t eliminate me.”
“Guys,” John B speaks up.
“If this was a show, I’d clearly be the fan favorite and the winner-”
“Uh, says who? I would so win, let’s do a poll right now and survey this beach-”
“Guys.” Louder this time, they listen to John. He doesn’t say anything, just stares into the distance and soon they join him, to see what he’s looking at.
“Y’gotta be fucking kidding me,” JJ says, watching you run into Rafe’s arms, swinging around before giving him a kiss. Rafe pulls away and looks straight at the three of them, while giving them a wave.
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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year
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Gamer boy (part one)
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Modern!gamer Eddie Munson x babysitter fem!reader
Summary: you’re propositioned to baby sit by your father, but it’s for Eddie “the freak” Munsons niece. You had history, but now you can’t even stand being near him. Will you both be able to put aside your distain? Or will a little gaming bet, bring you closer than ever before?
⚠️series warnings: eventual smut 18+ mdni, angst, friends to enemies to lovers, mutual pining, mean!eddie, slight fuck!boy eddie, cocky eddie, gaming bets in exchange for sexual acts, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, slight degradation, choking, hair pulling, spit play, spanking, dom!eddie.
A/N: this was going to be a one shot, but then I go more and more ideas so I’m turning into a little series 💚 (remember to tip your writers, with a reblog and comment)
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You couldn’t believe this was happening, you wanted to be emancipated. How could your dad do this to you? Why you?
Okay, that’s probably really dramatic. But, it was warranted.
It was a beautiful Thursday morning, birds were chirping, coffee was brewing and your mom was making her famous French toast. You haven’t felt this happy in a while, little did you know that metaphorical rug of happiness was about to be ripped from under you.
“Y/n, can you come in here?” Your dad yelled from his office down the hall
The only time your father ever called you into his office to talk, was always about something serious or a proposition he wanted to tell you about. Not ask, never ask. You didn’t have a choice in his “business proposals” at least that’s what they felt like to you.
Shuffling over your feet as your heart rate picked up. You made it into the big office, oak wood shelves filled with books your dad never had time to read. He was leaning back in his black leather chair behind his big oak wood desk, with a look of contentment on his face, it made a shiver run down your body.
“Yes, dad?” You say as you look down at the desk in front of you.
“I have a job I need you to do.” He says with a small chuckle
“Okay, what is it?” You cock your head like a puppy full of curiosity
“Well, I need you to baby sit for one of my employees. It’ll be from tonight to Sunday night.” He says
“This weekend? But dad it’s a three day weekend, I had plans with friends.” You say as if you can’t even believe he’s telling you this. I mean maybe it would make a difference if he was asking and not telling, but either way you were upset.
“Sorry, kiddo. I already told him you would. Can’t go back on my word, all a man has is his word.”
You roll your eyes, and cross your arms over your chest.
“Fine, who’s kid?”
“Wayne Munsons, he’s going out of town on a business trip for me. He has a daughter she’s about three and his usual sitter isn’t able to do it, something about her being an older lady, so I offered up your help since you use to babysit the neighborhood kids. He’s leaving at 9 tonight so you’ll need to be over there by 8:30”
“Wayne Munson? As in Eddie Munson? Dad no, absolutely not! Why can’t he do it?” You say as your eyes begin to water
“You know that boy, does he look like he can take care of a three year old for three days?” Your dad was beginning to get aggravated with your tone and questioning
“I cannot believe this. I hate him, how am I suppose to go over there and act civil when you’re asking me to go hang out with satan in the flesh?”
Your dad laughs at your outburst
“I’m not asking you to hang out with him, I’m asking you to babysit his niece.”
“For three days?!” You shout “I’m sorry, but cmon dad, I can’t do that.”
“You can, and you will. End of discussion.”
“I- whatever.” You turn on your heels and stomp out of there
“Hey, hun. French toast is ready,” your mom says with a big smile.
“I’m not hungry, sorry mom.” You say as you trudge up the stairs to go sulk in your bedroom
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After you packed your duffel bag full of clothes and toiletries, showered and put on some comfy black cotton shorts and a white long sleeve shirt. You got into your Prius and head for the last place on earth you ever wanted to be, Forest hills trailer park.
You don’t even remember why you and Eddie hate each other so much. Well you do, but now that you’re both adults, it all seems so redundant.
You and Eddie have known each other since he moved in with his uncle in first grade. You were actually friends at some point, then you hit middle school and your body started changing, you started getting a different kind of attention from Eddie and other boys. You both got closer that summer before freshman year. Close as in, you shared your first kiss with him, amongst some other things. But, once high school started, everything changed. Eddie became distant. You knew he was bullied, even worst than middle school, but you didn’t understand why he was so angry at you. Okay, well it could’ve had something to do with a small rumor that went around about you, and a certain basketball player. It wasn’t 100 percent incorrect, you did go on a date with Josh Young and you did make out in the back of his brothers Camaro, but you definitely did not give him a handy or a blow job, you knew him and his jock meathead friends started it because you didn’t want to go any further with him that night. Eddie avoided you at all costs after that, which was total bullshit because when you and him weren’t sucking face and feeling each other up, he was going on and on about perfect little Angela Thomas, a blonde cheerleader. Go figure. He had no right to be angry, so you both never talked after that. Except the occasional condescending comments that would leave his mouth when you’d both be at your lockers, his unfortunately being way too close to yours or that time you both had biology together, sophomore year and were paired up for a project. You ended up doing the whole thing yourself and allowed him to get half the credit, but other than that. Radio silence, on both ends.
You pull up to the only trailer with beer cans littered around the yard, parking next to Eddies rust bucket of a van. You couldn’t believe he was still driving that thing. It was a million years old and on its last leg, but something about seeing it made you nervous. Where’d that come from?
On the other side was Wayne’s pick up truck, the bed of it holding his black suitcase.
You keep your eyes on your brown platform ugg boots, as you make your way up the steps to the front door.
You knock a few times, wishing you could be anywhere literally anywhere but here.
“Y/n, hello sweetheart.” Wayne Munson says with a whisper, as he feels around his blue jeans for his keys.
“Laylas asleep in her room, she ate, she bathed, so she’s out for the night.” He chuckles
“There’s food in the fridge, money for pizza on the counter, and if you need anything just ask Eddie, he’s also in his room playin his damn games. If you want, you can sleep in my bed or you can take the couch, whatever you’re comfortable with.” — “Before I go, I just really want to tell you how much I appreciate this, darlin.” He says as he throws you an appreciative smile.
“Yeah of course, Mr. Munson. Have a safe trip.” You smile back, as you close the door behind him.
Now what the hell do you, do?
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After sitting uncomfortably on the couch for an hour, while scrolling on your phone and occasionally looking up at the Netflix movie you decided to put on as background noise, you hear a door open. Your heart starts beating out of your chest at the realization that you’re about to see Eddie.
The kitchen light turns on, making your eyes slightly squint. As you looked over at him, he was drinking Pepsi straight from the liter.
Ugh he was so disgusting
He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and then closed the cap, putting it back in the fridge as he let out a burp.
God, you really couldn’t stand him
Even if he was wearing nothing but grey sweats, so low it showed off his v line and trail of hair right above his—
“Oh, you’re here.” He says as he rolls his eyes
He knew you were here, he just loved pissing you off.
“Yup, don’t wanna be here just as much as you don’t want me here, Munson.”
“You sure about that?” He snickers
“Positive.” You say as you continue scrolling on your phone, pretending to read something, that you’re not actually reading. You just don’t want it to feel anymore awkward than it already does.
“Mm, okay princess. You have a nice night.” He turns around, shutting off the light and heading back into his room.
Princess? Ew, You hate him so much, but why’d he have to look so good? Fuck him!
You eventually got comfortable on the couch with the pillow and throw blanket, Wayne kindly left out for you. Falling asleep a little after you started some cheesy romantic comedy.
You wake up to the sound of loud metal music, and sun peaking in through the curtains. Once you roll over, you’re greeted by a little face staring down at you. Scaring the living shit out of you.
“Hi. My name is Layla, what’s yours?” The toddler asks, words coming out in the cutest little voice.
“Hi Layla, my names y/n. I’m gonna be babysitting you while your daddy is away.” You say as you sit up and rub your face
“Can you make me breakfast?” She says as she walks a little closer to you, you now notice she’s got a stuffed puppy in her arm.
“Of course I can, what would you like?” You put your ugg booties on and stand up, making your way to the kitchen as Layla follows closely behind
“Waffles, please!” She says excitedly
“Okay, waffles comin’ right up.”
“Thank you, y/n.” Layla says with the sweetest little smile
“No problem. So who’s your friend?” You ask, looking at the stuffy in her arm
“This is Mr. Floppy,” She says as she holds up the brown floppy eared puppy
“Well hello, nice to meet you Mr. Floppy.” You bend down and shake one of his floppy ears, like you would a hand.
Layla giggles like it was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.
As you’re plating laylas waffles and topping them with butter and syrup, the loud music that was booming from down the hall, stops. Eddie’s door flys open and he’s swinging his keys on his index finger, dressed in his usual; band tee, black jeans, leather jacket and battle vest.
“Teddy!” Layla shouts as she skips to hug his legs
“Sup, rugrat?” He says as he ruffles the top of her braided pigtails
“Are you leaving?” She inquires with a sad look on her face.
“I am, I’ll be back later. Just gotta take care of some stuff.” He says while looking over at you as you cut up Laylas waffles.
Eddie walks out the front door after telling Layla bye, leaving the screen door to slam.
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After playing with your new favorite toddler, almost all afternoon. Feeding her lunch and playing some more. She’s finally, down for a nap.
You begin cleaning up her toys off the living room floor, and turning the god awful voice of this blippi character on YouTube off.
You decide to get your AirPods out of your bag and pair them to your phone, so you can listen to some music while you clean up a little bit more.
You began washing the dishes, cleaning down counters and cleaning off the dining table, as well as sweeping the kitchen floor.
As you’re plugging in the big clunky vacuum, you hear Eddie’s other clunker come to a halt in the front yard, doors slamming and some talking, before the door is being unlocked and opened.
Eddie bounds in after some girl, you’d never seen her before. She was blonde and pretty. It made your stomach plummet and your hands shake.
Why are you jealous?
You didn’t miss the big smile on his face as he looked over at you, and began walking her to his bedroom.
Just breathe. JUST BREATHE. You hate him, why do you want to cry? Do you hate him? Fuck!
This was gonna be torture. You wanted to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible. But you knew you couldn’t. So you decide to put your headphones back in, and continue cleaning. It helped get your mind off of what Eddie and blondie, could be doing behind that door, but only for a little bit before your mind began to wonder.
So you gather some clothes and head for the bathroom, slipping inside and locking the door. You put the shower on, and begin undressing. Thanking god, Eddie had his music on pretty loud, but also not, because Layla could wake up any minute, so you had to make this fast.
After you get out, you slip on a black long sleeve onesie, you didn’t even realize you packed. The shorts on it are really short, and is constantly riding up, showcasing some of your butt. The front has about a dozen buttons going down to the middle of your stomach so you can control how much cleavage you want to show off. Opting for a good amount, enough to capture attention. It seemed like the most logical thing to go with, in this situation, whatever “situation” this was.
You find a brush in one of the drawers, brush out your hair and then make your way out of the bathroom and down the hall to check on Layla, she’s still sleeping soundly, so you walk back to the couch. Trying to drown out whatever noises you hear coming from Eddie’s room, you can’t make out if they’re laughs or moans and you’d rather keep it that way.
Some time goes by, while you’re scrolling on tik tok. Eddie’s door opens, as miss blondie walks out and leaves out the front door. A deep breath you didn’t even realize you were holding is released, after the door shuts. Your eyes are glued to your phone during her walk of shame, not wanting to see any marks or anything that’ll make this any worst for you.
You hear Eddie’s footsteps getting closer, so you decide to take a peek. Eddie’s in nothing but his black jeans, while his checkered boxers peak out the top and a cigarette behind his ear.
Why is he coming over here?
“What are you, doing?” He says as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch
“Just scrolling on my phone.” You say as you look over at him, his face looked flushed and sweaty, it makes your stomach hurt even more. God, you can’t believe you are feeling this way for Eddie, you like him. You wish you could fucking leave, you hate this, you hate these old feelings you’ve stuffed down for so long, popping back up like a fucking Jack in the box.
“You uh, you want me to order a pizza or something? I worked up an appetite.” He smirks
“Yeah, cool.” You say almost low enough to be a whisper
“Okay, um. Do you want to watch a movie or something?” He says as he looks down at your cleavage, nipples hard and on display.
“No, I’m okay.” You say as you get up and make your way to the kitchen to grab a drink.
You didn’t see it, but Eddie’s eyes were roaming your body, as he licked his lips. Yeah, he just had sex with some random girl, but that was only to get his mind off of you, and your annoying, fucking attitude. Eddie would never admit it, but he loved your stupid sassy personality. You didn’t take his shit. Fuck, he wanted you so bad. He starts to wonder if he just blew any chance with you, by having another girl over. Dammit, He definitely did, there’s no way you’d touch him now.
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Part two
Comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist (:
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piratefishmama · 8 months
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Finders Givers | Prompted by @aellafreya
Curiosity.
Some may call it a dangerous thing. Some may argue for its ability to lead you to the truth of things. Some may claim it leads you to temptation, to regret, to suffering.
Steve Harrington, was curious.
He’d found the source of his curiosity while visiting a bar he’d planned on purchasing. It wasn’t a huge establishment. Or a well known one. Not exactly big bucks in the making but it was sat in a prime location atop a cellar that led to miles of underground tunnels which frankly.
He wanted.
He wanted them and not for legal reasons either. The tunnels weren’t on any official city map, predating them, Robin and Nancy, his right hand, and his researcher, found them by pure chance while on a fun little jaunt through the local libraries.
Fun being a stretch for Robin, but she needed to hang out with another woman her own age. And so did Nancy.
But he wanted those tunnels, they stretched all over the damn city, with just a little bit of work they could pop up anywhere, perfect for many a less than legal activity.
So many by-chance happenings had led him to that ratty little bi-fold leather wallet. Wasn’t even quality leather either. It looked old too, black with an embossed devil head pattern that probably came from some truck stop somewhere.
He could have just handed it in to the owner he was trying to buy out, could have even thrown it away, but curiosity was a devil sometimes. So there he was, sat down at one of the many tables in that little bar while one of his people did the majority of his work for him (honestly what’s the point of having people if they cant do your work for you?) perusing the contents and feeling more and more depressed by the second.
First, there was a wad of coupons and a single quarter in there instead of bills, which was never a good sign.
Second, a single, solitary, sad, badly rolled little joint.
Third. A single bank card with Mr E J Munson on it. Not even a credit card, just. A debit. Which statistically didn’t mean great things about this person’s credit score. Could just mean the owner was trying to avoid debt, but… doubtful.
Fourth, a stick of gum.
Fifth, a guitar pick.
Sixth, a library card, oof couldn’t even afford to buy the books.
An expired driver’s license desperately in need of renewal registered to Edward Joseph Munson, the photo made him look like he’d just gotten out of jail or some shit, his hair a terrible buzzcut and eyes too big, too dark, and too haunted to be anything else, but then that was just sometimes how those photos turned out. He could have been a totally innocent man!
It had his address on it, a few descriptors, height half an inch shorter than Steve himself, brown hair, brown eyes, male, 140lbs at point of issue (he’d been seventeen), date of issue, issuing State, along with a date of birth, clocking him at a year older than Steve, twenty nine, and… that he was apparently a donor.
And finally, a month old pay stub from a local fast food joint. So minimum wage worker at best.
It was… kind of sad really. Steve actually looked up the address on his phone, just for curiosities sake, because he was already in deep enough to look through a guy’s wallet, might as well google the poor saps address, just in case he felt charitable enough to drop it off on the way back to the high rise.
Oh there was that deep sadness some people might yell ‘I told you so’ about.
It wasn’t bad. But it sure as shit wasn’t good either. Steve knew of at least six bottom dweller drug dealers that operated out of that block, which explained the joint.
And also made him sadder about the joint, the weed probably wasn’t even all that good.
“Hey Robbie?” His long time friend and platonic soulmate turned her bored gaze over to him, she’d been playing angry birds on her phone, he could hear the war cries of those birds every time she launched one. “We done any charity this quarter?”
“Mmmmmnmnnnnoooooo?” It always looked good to the public for a rich guy like him to do charity work. Wouldn’t look too deeply into him if he was seen publicly doing good. “Unless you count telling Dustin to go wild in that nerd shop last week as ‘charity’, your child nearly emptied the damn shop.”
“Nah that was his birthday present, can’t call that charity.” He wasn’t going to reiterate that Dustin wasn’t his child. He was basically mom at that point.
“Alright, so what’re you thinking?” She sat up, turning to face him properly, putting her phone screen down on the table “Sponsoring something? A drive? There’s this cute little animal shelter in Japan called HEART I read about last month, ran by just a woman and her husband working with volunteers, could be a good thing to donate to? Helping animals is always good for PR.”
“…Those sound way better than what I was thinking, this guy’s wallet is bumming me out.” The expression on her face could have probably put grumpy cat to shame. “Pick one of your choices and do something with it, whichever you want. Imma do something about this wallet.” It didn’t have to be a big PR stunt, the fact that he was doing it on the DL as well? It always came back around all sunshine and roses because people believed it was totally selfless.
Didn’t do it for PR, couldn’t be doing it for PR, he hadn’t announced it.
It was always for PR. Always. The reaction just took a little longer to circulate and people were suckers.
“Just give it back to him? That should be charity enough. It’s like nine bucks to replace a driver’s license, you’re saving him nine bucks. Charity.”
“For someone who started out poor, you’re awful, Robin Buckley. Deal with this bar thing for me would you? I’m going to go on an adventure.” Curiosity was a powerful thing!
“Alright but if you come home with another stray I’m suing!”
“That was—”
“Seven times Steve! Seven!!” It wasn’t his fault that he struggled to see teenagers down on their luck. And four of them were two sets of siblings so it technically counted as one time per set, and one came with Nancy so—!
“Fine!” –So, he wouldn’t argue.
Empires weren’t built with throw away people who held no loyalty to you although he did have many of those on staff. Empires like his were built on the foundation of family, and while the one he’d grown up with was a little bit lacklustre, the one he’d built was perfect.
So he wouldn’t argue, he knew she loved them just as much as he did, in her own way, and that any additions would be welcomed with open arms.
Steve didn’t take the car. Although he probably should have, he knew at least three of his people would be following him, keeping an eye on him for safety reasons. At a distance of course but they’d be tailing him for the sake of safety.
That neighbourhood wasn’t safe. No matter if he had a weapon on him or not, it wasn’t safe for people like him.
People with visible wealth.
The watch on his wrist alone was probably worth more than some of the buildings in that neighbourhood, and it wasn’t exactly early in the day either. The sun setting made for an excellent ‘rich person in the wrong goddamn neighbourhood’ future police report.
But he made it to his destination unscathed.
The fast food joint from that pay stub. He even double checked the address on it. The chances of this Edward Munson being there were low, but that was fine, he just wanted to check it out. The atmosphere in there, the management styles, he’d hang out in the corner, get a cheap coffee and people watch for a while. See how fun Edward's work life was so he could add it to his decision making tree.
Curiosity really was one depressing little bitch baby.
The manager on staff was loud. Rude. Sexist. And he was pretty sure he’d made one of the staff cry because she’d hurried out very quickly rubbing at her face and sniffling. The temptation to put out a hit on him? High. But no, that was a lot for one asshole… maybe he’d just send Jane out, let the kid take his knees out.
She deserved a little bastard ba—
Someone beat him to it. A commotion later started by someone with a lot of hair, hair that’d been put up in a net and half hidden beneath the uniform’s god awful mustard yellow cap. It’d been two hits, the guy hitting him, and the manager hitting the floor, blood pouring from a very broken nose, spectacular.
The rest of the staff looked on in wide eyed horror, one yelping “Eddie, holy shit!” as the man pulled his cap off to reveal all that hair. “You’re so fired!”
“Didn’t need this shit show anyway! Chris an I quit, peace out assholes!!” Eddie. Eddie. Steve rose to his feet. Godawful coffee forgotten in the face of the mystery Edward, who caught his eye once before continuing on his way, all big brown frankly beautiful Bambi eyes, less haunted but still so big, full, kissable lips, and god, so much hair, going in the same direction as the blonde who’d disappeared to probably go and cry.
Eddie did need that job. He really needed that job. Steve had seen the state of his wallet. He needed that job, or at least he needed the paycheque that came from that job. Couldn’t even afford to buy his own books! He rented them, he rented books.
Jesus.
God, Robin was gonna judge him so bad for the person he was about to become.
Part 2
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cloveroctobers · 4 months
Text
OCTOBER PROMPTS 🦇 — 11. Evan “Buck” Buckley
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A/N: my man, my man, my man!! Hopefully we get to see you soon and I can actually get the nerve to finish season six—I only have maybe 4 episodes left? Then I’ll dive into 9-1-1 lone star while we wait. Regardless I thought this would be funny and a little creepy to write so here we are! Enjoy 😉
Synopsis: Buck loves the new house you live in together and although you’re not crazy about it…you decide to pull a prank on your boyfriend to liven up the place that perhaps leads to you opening doors for a uninvited guest?
PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE & HERE & I’m using: A buys a crappy sound machine and plants it in the house. While it plays ghost noises and spooky sounds, A hopes they can convince B that the place is haunted. + “Come on, if there was ever a time for me to be superstitious it’s definitely now.”
*GIF BELONGS TO: @911edit
<- read my previous anthology prompt here.
꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎ ꩜
“BABE!” Buck yelled into your ear after pulling the headphone away.
You flinch as you stand up straight from the kitchen island and away from your overnight oats, “Yes?” You press with raised brows.
Buck waves his hands around, “you don’t hear that?”
“Hear what?” You question, pausing the podcast and resting your headphones to lay around your neck, “I didn’t even know you were home.”
Buck immediately frowns, “don’t tell me that. That means anybody could be hiding in here and you wouldn’t even know because of those stupid things.”
“You bought them for me.”
“Yeah to use at the gym and keep those meathead douchebags away while I’m not around.” Buck explained which made you smirk with a roll of your eyes.
“Listen,” Buck said again as you moved around the modern kitchen (that you hated) to place the now empty bowl and spoon into the sink.
Placing a hand on your hip you glance around the new open floor plan home that you and Buck moved into together. The modern contemporary home was such a contrast from the outside to the inside with its exterior being too boxy for your liking but you enjoyed the black exterior and the courtyard and pool. The inside was much lighter, from white to cream walls, along with the high ceilings which made the home feel bigger and instantly sold Buck who believed this would be your forever home.
You on the other hand were not convinced but nobody could ever say you weren’t open to trying new experiences. It’s only been four months settling in and there were still some things you wanted to change like: mainly the wall colors but Buck was convinced furniture and decor could replace that urge.
Sighing you say, “I don’t hear anything Ev,” you tap the sink on, “maybe you should lay down? Was it a rough day?”
“No, it was a breeze.” Buck fanned his hand along before resting them both flat against the White Island counter, “…maybe it’s a bird or something?”
“Well what exactly did it sound like?”
“Like scratching. Kinda like Pearla when she tries to sneak into our room at night,” Buck answers before glancing around, “matter of fact, where is she?”
“At the groomers. She won’t be ready until after four,” you inform Buck of the whereabouts of your old English sheepdog.
Buck dips his head, looking at his watch, “it’s 3:42.”
“Shoot! time does really get away from me,” you widen your eyes as you quickly finish washing the dishes before spinning around to shove it into the dishwasher.
Buck nods his head, “I’ll drive.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” Buck shrugs his shoulders, “it’s a nice crisp day and…I don’t want you having any accidents considering your hearing isn’t the best right now.” He playfully lifts the headphones from your neck to place down while you roll your eyes again.
You lean towards him smug, “ah, I see what this is…you’re scared to stay here by yourself because of this imaginary noise you’re hearing.”
“I’m not! And i don’t think it’s in my head.” Buck defended while you went over to the couch to shove your hoodie back over your gym attire.
“Uh huh,” you say as Buck scoffs ready to plead his case as you lock up the home behind you.
The next time Buck hears the noise is around 3am when you’re both tucked away at the back of the home in bed. It’s not a pleasant sound as his eyes snap open to the darkness of the room, the moaning and creaking almost sounds like a mixture of a whale and the cracking of a ship that meets the bottom of the ocean. Buck knows he should stop clicking on random things on YouTube before bed that leads him down a deep dive but this isn’t the first time he’s hearing that groaning sound.
It was brief before on his day off while you were at work and he was lounging on the couch watching some twisted documentary about Russ McKamey. Buck tried to brush it off as something that was on screen since it stopped when he paused the television but he couldn’t hear it while watching again. Was this truly in his head? He started to think but here he was— technically—the third time hearing the noise for much longer.
When he peaks over at you with your back to him, he lightly grips your shoulder and leans over to see that you’re still fast asleep and sits up in bed. By the edge of the bed, he spots Pearla on the floor with her fluffy ears perked up and Buck nods his head.
“You hear it too, girl? I know I’m not going crazy!” Buck whisper-yells to the dog who’s definitely more alert than you are.
Buck’s crawling out of bed with Pearla at his ankles, taking a deep inhale he opens the bedroom door to peak down the left of the hallway towards the front of the new home and only sees darkness. Pausing for a moment he listens for the noise again but the home is eerily quiet.
Buck stands there for at least two minutes before he considers closing the door but the creaking starts up again, sending Pearla flying out of the room barking as she tries to locate the noise first.
“Pearla!” Buck yells for the dog who disappears down the hallway and out of sight.
He blows a whistle with his fingers to get her attention, stepping into the hallway now but Pearla is nowhere to be seen. When he glances over his shoulder back in your direction, you’re still in fact sound asleep. Usually you’re the light sleeper out of the pair but somehow in this early morning, you’re having a grand time in dreamland.
Reaching for the doorknob, Buck slowly pulls the door closed with a soft click and begins taking the path to the main areas of the home. Pass the three bedrooms and the half bath on the left, Buck scans the dining room, kitchen, and living room to find it all empty. Confusion is written all over Buck’s face as he stands in the center of the home, hands on his hips as he’s searching but…for what?
The groaning picks up again just as a touch goes to his hips. Buck yelps, whipping around to face you who’s actually holding their composure. Buck holds onto his chest ready to let out a exhale but the look you cast behind your shoulder then back to meet Buck’s island water eyes you say, “the house is haunted.”
“What?” Buck let’s out a full exhale, trying to calm his heart rate.
You swallow, hands still holding onto Buck’s hips, “I hear it too.”
He tightens his jaw, ears picking up on the noise but now it’s the loudest it’s ever been, making you grip your very sensitive ears.
“Wait here,” Buck suggests, hands flexing as he picks up a fire poker that was left leaning against the industrial bookcase from his old apartment, “it sounds like it’s coming from the laundry room.”
You huff, feet slapping against the floor as you latch right onto the back of his shirt, “hell no! You’re not leaving me behind in this sketchy house.”
“Ohhh,” Buck sing songs, “now it’s sketchy but when I said it’s been weird lately you tell me I need a nap.”
You hiss, “be quiet, we’re supposed to be stealthy when sneaking up on a ghost.”
“I wasn’t aware that you had experience with the paranormal.” Buck looks back at you with a frown before slowly leading the way back towards the bedrooms.
“I’ve seen ghost whisperer you know?”
“…am i supposed to know what that is?”
“It’s a show Maddie and I are currently binge watching, now ssh!” Your attempt to silence the man was met but Buck used this silence to steady his heartbeat.
If this house was truly haunted then it was going to be hard to explain this to the insurance company when he’s done tearing up the place.
And we all know Buck’s not afraid of some action. His arm goes out to shield you as you both slide up against the wall opposite of the door that leads into the small laundry room. Buck couldn’t hear Pearla’s barking anymore and she did go in the opposite direction so he hoped whatever this is, didn’t harm your beloved dog.
“On my count,” Buck signals peering at you shortly to make sure you understood where he was going with this, “three…two…”
Of course he didn’t say “one” as he pushed the door back, revealing the very normal looking laundry room. Everything appeared in tack as Buck stepped into the room, hand reaching out to shove some clothes on the rack aside and then checking the cabinets above the washer and dryer.
“Huh,” Buck hummed before pulling the appliances open to find them both empty, “nothing.”
When he turns to face you, you’re hugging yourself but your brows are still furrowed in disbelief. He reaches to flick the light off and steps towards you to exit the room but a screeching noise picks up yet again. Instead of it sounding like it’s in the laundry room, it’s appears as if it’s coming from back towards the front of the home.
“No freaking way!” Buck yells, bringing the fire poker up like a bat as he runs down the hallway.
You scream at his back, “stop running towards danger you idiot!”
Buck ignores you, following the sound right to the pantry door, which is closed shut. He wastes no time, pulling the door back to reveal a gray and white Pearla fleeing from the room with a whine. Buck almost recoils at how loud the sound is coming from the pantry but steps in anyway, looking around the spacious storage room until the door shuts right behind him.
He tries the knob but to no avail, he turns back to the dark room, dropping down into a push up motion to check underneath the shelves. The thirty year old was just waiting to see something further unusual but got back to his feet just to be shoved towards the shelves.
Buck steadies his hands out in front of himself, catching himself against the shelves but not without the goods crashing onto the floor. He spins back around as the cracking noise picks up, almost making his teeth ache at the sound but that doesn’t stop him from swinging the fire poker wildly in the air. He’s not sure when the poker breaks one of the shelves but he spots a flash of red way at the top behind a acrylic container.
Panting Buck begins latching and crawling up on the shelves and swipes a hand across the top shelf, knocking the contents onto the floor to spot some sort of machine that suddenly shoots a weak steam of fog his way, followed by the creaking sound. Buck presses on top of it which sends out that screeching sound that makes Buck slip at the upsetting noise.
He’s shouting your name once he aims his footing right, landing back on it but not without the machine slipping right towards his face and knocking Buck off balance.
“I’m just glad it’s not broken,” you say for what felt like the thirteenth time as you hold the door open; ten am later that morning, leading your boyfriend back into your shared home that Buck secretly didn’t want to come back to.
The bandage on his bruised and cut up nose was prominent but Buck still sported a small smile on his face. “See what happens when you try to prank me. Now you have to tell everyone that I did in fact fight a ghost.”
The pantry door was jammed by the time you got to Buck, hearing him calling your name and Pearla barking for your attention. It wasn’t something it commonly did but you just deemed it as your anxiety getting the best of you, struggling to get it open. You were in on a bet with Chimney and Hen since Eddie (surprisingly) and Bobby didn’t want to participate—that you could convince Buck that your new home was haunted.
However you weren’t expecting for him to go investigating and get smacked in the face with the crap ghost machine you purchased off eBay. You were just happy that you weren’t the cause of Buck almost breaking his nose (you didn’t intend for the machine to slide off the shelf) but everything else you’ll take responsibility for.
“Sit,” you ordered Buck by his arms who laughed at you going into your nurturing role, “you know they’ll never believe that right?”
Buck kicks his feet up along the couch with a sigh, “but it could be a plot twist x2 with there actually being some haunted vibes going on. I mean…you did set me up.”
You pout as stood in the kitchen, “it was supposed to be all in good fun but then you had to go Rambo—being Buck. Did I mention how sorry I am?”
Buck laughs, “it’s just a scratch,” as Pearla jumps up beside him to rest her head in his lap, “it’ll heal and I can take a joke but just know…you did start a prank war for the rest of this fall season. You have no idea what you just unleashed.”
You didn’t like how Buck was rubbing his hands together in wicked joy but you’ll learn to deal with it.
“Yeah that’s what Maddie said,” you mumbled as you pulled open the fridge, “so before you come up with those ideas…I can make you your favorite breakfast.”
Buck grins, “that’ll be nice but I’d prefer a cuddle first.”
“Is your head hurting?”
Buck lolls his head, “I told you babe, I feel fine. Now get over here.”
You make a cross motion as you cautiously step over to Buck who shakes his head at you with a grin. Once you’re close enough, he reaches for your sweatshirt to yank you to his other side since Pearla made her claim on his left.
“Now that I know I’m not going crazy anymore, I can really enjoy this house with my two favorite people.” Buck curls a arm around you and rests the other along the back of the couch after patting Pearla’s head.
Resting your head against Buck’s chest you sink into the comfort each other. However that doesn’t last long with the sound of glass shattering from the mirror that once hung on the wall above the wooden chest that contained the record player on top of it.
The silence is almost deafening now as the both of you watch the pieces of the mirror decorate the floor.
Buck says, “Come on, if there was ever a time to be superstitious it’s definitely now.”
You knew a broken mirror was not a good sign and Buck started to feel like it wasn’t really all in his head as the flashes of what happened earlier this morning played back in his head. It couldn’t just be the trash machine you bought whenever and Buck really wasn’t that clumsy to trip over his feet so what gives?
Spookiness can be fun but Buck could always sense when things didn’t exactly feel right anymore? He believed in the full moon, mercury in retrograde and he strongly believed in when things weren’t just a good scare.
“So you agree, we should go house hunting?”
Again? Buck hated the process when he was on his own but with you it felt nice, like there was a definite future to look forward to.
“Yeah,” Buck states, “I think I’m done ghost hunting for awhile.”
“Hell yeah you are.” You respond, keeping your eyes towards the area just in case you saw something else that didn’t sit right with you; while reaching for your phone.
The both of you didn’t bother to debate over where you would be escaping to for the night as you searched your contacts for your realtor and fast.
꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎꩜⌖ㄨ࿔⚡︎ ꩜
Continue with my fall anthology prompts here.
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peachesofteal · 1 year
Text
Heartbeat / Chapter 2
Chapter 2 of Heartbeat. Same pairing as Picture and I got you.
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Simon Riley/female reader 3.9k words - part of the Sassy series - AO3 Warnings-Tags: 18+ Minors DNI, pregnant reader, pregnancy complications, Simon is soft for you, flashbacks, emotional hurt/comfort, medical inaccuracies, military inaccuracies, violence. You're slipping in and out.
“But not the thick crust kind. The thin kind, well done. Tell them-“ You heard the sound of a door being shut, and the little jingle of his keys.
“I know, Sass. I know.”
“that I want it with black spots top and bottom. And extra cheese! Last time they forgot it and-“
“Sass.”
“Yeah?”
“I got it.”
“Erm, right.” You hang up the phone with a sigh, rubbing a circle on top of your belly. All you can think about is that pizza right now. Gooey, cheesy pizza with a crispy crust. Your mouth practically waters and you cast a glance at the full laundry basket in the living room with a sigh. Tiny baby clothes aren’t going to fold themselves.
You yawn when you finish, little pants and shorts and onesies all categorized and stacked into piles across the coffee table, sorted by color and size so you’d know where to put them in the dresser. You grab two of the piles to bring upstairs, the idea of a nap sounding better and better as the minutes tick on, and you’re already thinking about how you can convince Simon to feed you the pizza while you lay in bed. A twist in your lower abdomen makes you wince mid stairs, and you groan. Being pregnant is for the birds. When you get to your room, you feel a twinge in your belly, this time stronger, and it nearly causes your knees to buckle. Alarm bells ring in the back of your mind. That didn’t feel normal. You try to take a deep breath but white-hot pain blooms across your body, the sharpness making you gasp, and you fumble for your phone, trying to get the screen unlocked while your body trembles.
“F-fuck.” You hiss against another surge of pain, leaning against the side of your bed for support, dropping the phone completely. It clatters to the ground a few feet away and your legs give out, your body falling to the floor with a thud.
The ceiling of your bedroom is the last thing you see before everything goes black.
Soap whistles. 
“Shew, Sass. You’re lookin’ pure dead brilliant.” Your skin goes hot across your nose.
“Shut up, Soap.” 
“You got a date or something?” 
“Or something.” It wasn’t a date, not really. Just a few drinks with another operator from this base. The 141 had been here for a month, between ops, and Price said you didn’t leave for Belize for another three weeks still. You were bored. You were tired of waiting around. 
“Who with?” Gaz pipes up from the corner and you roll your eyes. 
“It’s not a date. I’m just getting off base, having a couple of drinks, no big deal.” A blur of shadow catches your gaze behind Johnny, and you track it with your eyes until it steps into the light. Ghost. 
“You’re goin’ off base?” he asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 
“She’s gotta a date, LT!” Soap practically shouts. Underneath his seemingly innocent smile, there’s a smirk of something hidden. Something he knows that you clearly don’t. You glare at him. 
“It’s not a date, I-“ 
“Did you get going off base cleared with Price?” Ghost tilts his head. Is his stance a little wider? You sigh in exasperation. 
“No. I didn’t think I had to considering we’re ‘consulting’ and this is not a state sanctioned op.” Johnny’s eyes dart between the two of you. Ghost says nothing, just studies you. His eyes travel from your feet to your mouth, and heat blossoms in the pit of your stomach. You turn on your heel and Soap yells to your back. 
“Have fun!” 
You’re sitting at a table, across from your ‘not date’, Johnathan. Very nice guy, communications specialist. He’s spent the last two weeks making small talk with you in an effort to get you here, off base, where he can try to lay it on. Which he is. Trying to lay it on, that is. Succeeding, you weren’t so sure. He was cool, you guessed. Talked a lot. 
“So, I forgot I don’t actually know what you’re doing at Humphrey’s?” You bite your tongue. He didn’t know because you never said. You tried to keep your affiliation with 141 off the radar when the lot of you were on a base. You’re about to launch into some drawn out, confusing explanation, but he makes a weird sound in his throat and looks over your shoulder. 
“Holy shit. Is that Simon Riley?” he practically whispers in awe. This. Cannot. Be. Happening.
You turn nonchalantly to see the giant man in the skull mask standing in the doorway, Soap and Gaz filing in behind him. 
“Yeah. Guess it is.” You’re going to kill all of them. 
“He’s infamous. Like a legend. I heard a rumor the 141 was here but didn’t believe it. Did you know he-“ 
“Aye lass!” You close your eyes. 
“Soap.” You grit out when he gets closer, smug grin plastered on his face. He’s had a few beers, you can tell by how relaxed his posture is. Ghost looms behind him like the god damn grim reaper. 
“Who’s your friend?” Johnathan stands immediately, extending his hand which Gaz takes readily, making introductions like this is some group social outing. Soap asks him what he does, and starts peppering him with questions, effectively stealing the entirety of his attention. Your ‘not date’ devolves into anything but a date in a matter of minutes. 
“Sorry about your date, Sass.” Ghost’s voice rings out as you exit the bar, and you turn with a glare. 
“Are you?” He doesn’t say anything, just watches you from behind the mask until he’s pushing off the side of the building and heading back inside.  
The room is incredibly white. Sanitized. Your eyes flick back and forth, trying to figure out what’s going on. It’s loud, and there are people talking. The ceiling tiles are the ugly kind, small porous patterns bobbing and weaving above your face. More noise. A ripping sound. And then, another. Cool air. You think you hear Simon, above it all. Maybe. He sounds off kilter, unnerved. That’s odd. What’s happening? Somebody shines something bright in your face and you wince. Jesus. Blind a girl, why don’t you? You hear Simon, again. He’s saying your name, first and last. Not your call sign. You want to protest. Then he says your birthday. Your blood type. You try to turn your head, but you can’t. It’s stuck in something. You feel a pinch. Simon. You try to say his name, but another pinch in your arm steals your breath. You fade away.
Your lungs are screaming, tac vest compressing your chest as you sprint across the building before diving forward behind a half wall. 
“This was not the plan.” Gaz says from behind you, and you nod. You knew that. This was definitely not the plan. You were operating so far outside of the plan right now, and you still had not set your charges. 
“Look, take-“ shots pop and whiz by your head, forcing you lower. Your low position is a disadvantage against where these guys are sitting a floor above you, and you’ll both need to move in a matter of seconds. “Take this.” You shove the drive into his hand. “And meet Ghost and Soap at rendezvous.” He stares at you like you’ve lost it. You feel a little bit like that too, but it doesn’t matter. 
“I can’t leave you here!” more bullets fly between the two of you, and you lean forward to peek, firing off a few shots before turning back to him. 
“I am telling you to. I will be right behind you.” before he can argue, you press the button for your comm. “Gaz is enroute to rendezvous location, over.” 
“Roger. What’s your location?” Soap’s voice crackles across the radio but you ignore it, giving Gaz one more beseeching look before you start to crawl towards the other side of the room. “Sassy, location. Over.” Soap radios again. You duck around a corner, walking low in a crouch to make your way down the stairs and into the dimly lit hallway. When you don’t answer, you hear the radio click again, but nobody calls through. A few seconds pass, and then- 
“Sass report your location.” It’s Simon now, and you can practically hear the sound of his teeth grinding. You were breaking protocol. Smashing the plan to hell. Ignoring your superior. 
You were operating blind. 
When you come to the first set of joists, you set a charge, fingers flying over the wires until you were satisfied. Fifteen seconds, not too shabby. 
“Come in Sass.” He calls again, something different in his voice this time. A low vibrato, the echo of mounting desperation every time you don’t answer a call. Your eyes catch your next chokepoint, the long beam running along the first floor. You’re underneath it in a beat, but the charge is giving you an issue, forcing you to close your eyes and take long, slow breaths to steady your hands. Too long, it’s too long, those guys could be on top of you any second, this is taking too long, it’s- “Sass. Report your location. Now.” You take another deep breath, counting in and out until your hands still and the wires cooperate. “Report your location Sergeant, that is an order.” You rip the comm from your ear and toss your radio to the ground. The pit in your stomach widens, threatening to suck you in whole. Simon never calls you by rank. 
You’re blinking and staring at different ceiling tiles now. These are a softer color, like a beige. You think. Everything is fuzzy. You blink again, but this time your eyes stay shut. You try to force them open but it’s too hard, and you huff in frustration. Wherever you are, it smells like disinfectant and bad mess hall food. You wrinkle your nose. Simon laughs quietly in that gentle, throaty way that you only get hear every now and then. Simon?! You really want to open your eyes. Really, really bad. You try, and then try again but can’t, so you try to speak instead. A hand smooths over the crown of your head, and you swear you feel the press of a mouth against your cheek. None of it matters though because you slip back under in a heartbeat.
“Don’t use my name right now.” Simon is yelling at you. He steps closer, close enough that you can see the cracks in the paint around his eyes. “You had no idea what you were doing out there!” He roars, thrusting a finger in your face. “You were operating blind, like a fucking idiot.” Your mouth falls open in shock. “Are you a bloody idiot, Sass?” His raised voice has captured Soaps attention, who drifts closer to where the two of you stand. You glance at him. “I asked you a question.” Ghost snaps, and you feel like melting in the ground. Soap steps between you both, hand out towards Ghost like he’s trying to catch a wild animal. 
“Take it easy, LT.” 
“-from her too, because I don’t want ya to end up with my ugly mug.” It’s Simon, and you can feel the vibrations of his words through your skin, but you can’t see. Everything is dark. “Hopefully, you’ll get her smarts. She’s really smart. Smarter than me. Good with words, and puzzles. Everything.” You want to protest, but your mouth feels like cement, and you can’t even get your eyes open. “You got real lucky, havin’ her as your mom. I’m not gonna be… as good as she is. At this.” The sound of his voice fades and you frantically try to hold onto it before you fall into the inky black of sleep.
He’s watching you pace back and forth, your fingers tapping a staccato rhythm across your belly. You don’t need to look at his face to know he’s clocking your every step. You can feel weight of his eyes, the searing heat of his gaze working its way under the collar of your shirt. 
“I don’t want you here. You can’t just… keep showing up and sitting in my driveway. That’s called stalking.” 
“The other night-“ 
“Was a fluke. I’m fine. I had a moment of weakness but I’m fine.” He doesn’t say anything, just tracks you from where he sits on a tiny kitchen chair. They’re really normal sized, but he dwarfs the one he’s in, jean clad thighs spread wide, arms crossed in front of his chest. 
“Sass-“
“Don’t ‘Sass’ me. Just-“ He stands and your words die in your throat. You turn on your heel mid pace, eager to escape whatever it is he’s about to lob at your armor, whatever weapon he’s wielding that will undoubtedly breakdown your defenses. 
“Sass.” He cuts you off, hands folding over your arms, holding you still. You immediately look at your feet. You’ll break if you look up at his face, and he knows it. “Look at me.” Rage flickers in your blood. 
“No.” You step away, slipping out of his grip. “Fuck. You. You don’t get to just waltz in here, after everything, and pretend it’s all okay because you said you’re sorry. Because you have some self-awareness all of the sudden.” 
“I don’t think everything’s okay, and I regret what happened. I-“ 
“You… You’re such a dick. You pushed me away!” Your voice warbles a little and you swallow it down. “And then you did worse, and I’m so… I’m so fucking angry with you. You were supposed to have my back.” 
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. Your job didn’t get messed with. Your boss and… your… me, didn’t make a backhanded deal to get rid of you! I trusted you. I-“ 
“I know.” 
“STOP saying that.” You’re really yelling now, words flying out of you with no filter, anger taking control of your mouth. “You don’t know shit, Simon Riley. You only know about yourself, you don’t care about me, or this baby, you’re just here to alleviate some weird guilt.” A shadow flickers across his face, and the baby jams his foot into your left ribs, making you wince. Simon takes a half step forward and reaches out towards you, muscles tense. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing.” You grit your teeth and shake your head. “Your son likes to play soccer with my organs.” You tap your foot impatiently, rubbing your hand in a circle. You usually hum, but you won’t in front of him. Something about it feels too intimate.
This time, when you blink, everything feels a lot clearer. You can tell there’s a tube in your nose, and something, a few things probably, are taped to both of your arms. The lights are bright, and they feel like they’re shining up under your eyelids into your skull. Someone makes a pitiful noise, a half whimper, half groan. No, not someone. You. You blink more rapidly, trying to clear your vision, and turn your head from side to side. Where… where are you? What’s happening? 
“Sass.” It is Simon. Simon’s here. You try to speak but the only thing that comes out of your mouth sounds like garbled nonsense. “Shhh, sweet girl. It’s alright. You’re okay.” Thick fingers stroke across your cheek. Where are you? What’s happening? What’s- 
The pain. The baby. 
Your hands press across your body, eyes wide with panic. The baby, the baby, what happened? Simon’s big hand envelopes yours. You wet your lips with your tongue.
“Baby.” You croak, but it doesn’t really sound like baby, it sounds more like abby, or bubby, or something. Why is your tongue so heavy? Why is your throat so dry? You focus on your bump, trying to feel for your son’s movement or kicking. Your chest suddenly feels tight, and the beeping sound in the background gets steadily faster.
“Hey, hey. Everything’s okay. You’re okay.” You watch him look up over your bed, eyes fixing on something you can’t see before coming back to you. “I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath. Just try.” You do, feeling your chest expand a little further and he rubs his palm in a soothing circle against your belly. “Good girl. Another one.” You get a deeper breath in this time, and his eyes crinkle, just a little, so that you can tell he’s smiling behind the mask. “That’s it. Just relax for me, alright?” You hear the click of a door, and a woman’s voice. She approaches you from the other side of the bed, speaking in low tones to Simon, who doesn’t take his eyes off you. When you glance over at her, she gives you a warm smile.
“There she is!” She says as she presses some buttons on the machines next to your bed. You hear the scrape of a chair and feel the sudden lack of Simon’s presence. You try to call his name, but it doesn’t come out right. A big hand bleeds warmth onto yours.
“I’m right here.” He’s sitting now, head just about eye level with you. Oh. You want to ask him what’s going on, what happened, but your eye lids tug low, and you yawn. “Go back to sleep, Sass. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“Where did you learn to cook like this?” You raise an eyebrow. 
“It’s just shepherd’s pie.” 
“Better than a ration pack.” You snort, stabbing the last piece on your plate with your fork. 
“It’s not that hard.” You sigh, leaning backwards. Simon finishes too, and then reaches across the table for your dishes. “I got it.” You say, hand flying forward to stop him. Your fingers brush across the skin of his wrist and you shiver involuntarily. 
“You cooked. Let me.” He rolls up his sleeves, bending forward so he can reach into the sink. He’s washing dishes in your kitchen, the realization settling into your brain as his arms dip below soapy water with a sponge. It’s so… domestic. You feel like you’re in a daydream. You pull yourself onto your feet and say his name over clink and clatter of Ikea plates and the running water, his broad back flexing when he turns to look at you. He wipes his hands on the dish towel. 
“Sass? What is it?” He leans down to catch your eye, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing.” You whisper, and watch his face, every quiver, every twitch of every muscle, everything you’ve never seen before. You wonder if the baby will have his nose. Maybe they’ll have the sandy blonde hair too, or the deep brown eyes. “Simon.” You say his name, and he frowns, probably thinking you’re about to try to throw him out, again. “I want… I want to trust you. I want to believe you, but this-”
“Give me a chance.” 
“How? You… you wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t pregnant.” His mouth abruptly closes, and he stares at you for a few long seconds before speaking. 
“I think… I would be. That somehow, I would’ve found you again, pregnant, or not.” You take a deep breath. 
“Why did you do it? Why did you shut me out? Why did you have Price get rid of me?” He’s silent for a long time, eyes trained on the ground before he reaches out to take your hand. When he looks at you again, you see it. The fear. The pain. The trauma, rippling across his face clear as day. When he speaks, his voice breaks.
“I was scared.” 
The next time you wake up, Simon’s face is squished next to your ribs. He’s wearing the black hoodie, with the hood up over his head, and the civilian face mask. You clear your throat, grasping for the cup of water sitting just out of your reach, and he’s awake and lifting the straw to your lips before you can even blink.
“Hey.” Your voice sounds a little better. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at you for a while. It feels like forever until-
“Bloody hell, Sass.” He slumps forward in the chair, sliding the mask down his face and pressing your palm to his lips. You smile at him, but the stupid tube across your nose tickles, and you reach to yank it free. “No.” He grabs your hand and brings it down by your side. “Leave it be.”
“Simon, what-“ You’re cut off when there’s a knock at the door. Your OB stands on the other side when it opens, her face carefully blank.
You’re sitting across from Ghost, listening to Gaz and Johnny ramble on and on about an op that went south last year, too many things going wrong in one day. 
“It wasn’t the worse we’d been through though, huh LT?” Johnny laughed, ribbing the larger man with his elbow before catching a death glare. You smirked. 
“What about you?” Gaz piped up, raising an eyebrow in your direction. You took a sip of your beer, slowly. These guys didn’t know too much about you, and you didn’t like to divulge too much. Getting too personal with them would be a mistake, you know it. 
“I made a mistake with an IED once. It was on a teenager, thought I had it. Two power sources.” You didn’t say anything else. You didn’t have to. The look Soap gave Gaz was enough.  
“You lose ‘em?” Ghost breaks the silence. 
“And a few others.” Nobody says anything. Ghost nods, eyes never leaving yours. He knows. Better than anyone. 
It’s placental abruption. Minor, or as close to minor as you can come without having to deliver, spurred on by your high blood pressure and previous abdominal trauma, risk factors both you and her have discussed at length. A pang of guilt stabs into your heart. You’ve been shot. Stabbed. Blown up. Worked a burn pit. Inhaled a million different chemicals. You knew this, and still decided to keep the baby. It was hard not to feel the weight of your decision. What if it had been worse? 
She gives you a sympathetic look as she explains, and Simon traces his thumb across your knuckles in the same pattern, repeatedly. You nod robotically as you listen, fingers curled in his.
“So, I want to send you home, but you’ll need to be on bedrest. Ideally, we would like to get you to thirty-four weeks.” Six weeks of bedrest. You stifled a groan. Simon is going to be insufferable. You sneak a look at him. He’s watching and listening like a hawk while she talks about activities you can and cannot do, things you should watch out for, the importance of keeping your stress level non-existent. Once she’s done, she promises she’s going to get you out of here as soon as she can and leaves the two of you alone again.
“I wanna go home.” You whine, scratching at your arm where the IV port is while beating back a yawn that’s creeping up your throat. He looks down at you and your heart breaks. He’s afraid. You squeeze his hand and try to comfort him, even though there's not much you can give. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“I know. And I’m gonna take you home as soon as they let me.” He combs some hair away from your face with his fingers, careful not to get them caught in the tangles. “Just rest for now, okay?”
“Okay.” You mumble, already feeling the pull of exhaustion again. An errant thought enters your mind before you fade away. “Hey. Did you get extra cheese?” He laughs, and you slip peacefully into the warm embrace of sleep. 
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thecuriousquest · 10 months
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Breakfast is Ready!
@msfantasy
Yandere Hawks x Yandere Dabi x Reader
Warnings: Yandere themes, control issues, forced feeding, implied kidnapping, bondage
Checkout my Master List here.
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You wake up to the chipper call of Hawks telling you that breakfast is on the table. Dabi groans next to you, throwing an arm over your torso, trying to fall back into a peaceful sleep.
Dissatisfied by your current circumstances, you let out a rather long groan. There’s a chain to the end of the lavish bed, Keigo’s bed. Well, is it Keigo and Dabi’s bed? The situation is still rather confusing to you. They share you, but that’s all you know.
You don’t hear footsteps until the hero is standing right above you with an apron on. His smile is so cheerful, beaming with the light of the sun. You wonder how someone so bat shit crazy could actually be this happy. Is it all a pretense? Always asking questions to keep yourself preoccupied rather than dwelling on how fucked up your life is now, you snap back to reality when you feel the cuff around your ankle open.
Massaging your sore ankle has become a habit at this point after being kidnapped living with them for a month. Keigo rubs your bed head of hair before helping you up. He shakes the villain awake, and you could laugh at how comically those cerulean eyes open up with the shock of being jolted awake.
“Come on, sleepy heads. Breakfast will get cold soon. Besides, you can’t just sleep the day away.”
“Shut up, bird brain,” Dabi yawns as he scratches his mass of black hair.
All three of you sit down at the table to enjoy a delightful breakfast. That’s what Hawks wanted anyway. You, however, are a defiant little brat according to the duo. You refuse to eat, again. Sometimes, you give in because you just simply can’t handle another punishment. Sometimes, you give in because your stomach feels like it’s beginning to eat itself. However, this time, you just want to knock the plate off the table like a cat and yell at them to go fuck themselves.
You settle for just pushing the plate away. “I’m not hungry.”
Dabi rolls his eyes. “Another fit? Really? Didn’t you just have one of these last week? Don’t you remember what happened?”
Vividly. How could you forget being tied down to the chair and poked with a flaming blue finger? “You gonna eat now?” He’d say before prodding your soft flesh. “How about now?” “This can all stop if you just eat.” “Oh, you’re crying? Does it hurt? It doesn’t seem like it hurts because you won’t eat the fucking food! What? Do you like it or something? You enjoying this? Don’t want me to stop?”
You could only take about fifteen of those before breaking down in tears and eating. The thought causes you to tense up, jaw going rigid with anger.
How could I have been so weak? Don’t think of it that way! The human body has pain limitations. You could only take so much before giving in.
“Chicken wings went through all that trouble to make breakfast for you, and you’re just gonna waste it?” Blue flames coat his hand.
“Wait a minute, Dabi,” Keigo intervenes.
Dabi’s flames suddenly go out as he looks at the pro hero.
“I think we should take a different approach this time. If she’s not going to eat willingly, then we’ll just have to show her that there are other ways of getting her to eat. Maybe, that will help her understand the picture better in the future. What do you say?”
Patchwork lips curl up in a devious smile. “I think Doll Face deserves it.”
You try to shoot out of your chair and bolt for the bedroom, but Keigo’s hand pushes you back down. You find yourself being pinned on the villain’s lap. He grabs your wrists in one large paw before throwing a leg over both of your shins. His free hand snakes around the back of your neck. You try to thrash away from his grip, to squirm with every feisty cell in your body, but he has you effectively restrained.
Keigo’s task is getting your mouth open. You have it clenched shut, thinking he won’t get past it. It comes at a surprise when he pinches your nose.
Now, you have a choice here: open your mouth or pass out. You try to hold out for the last option as hard as you can, but your lungs yearn for air. Aching terribly with each passing second, your lungs feel fit to burst.
Opening your mouth to suck in a fresh breath, Keigo sticks a fork full of eggs in your mouth. He forces your mouth shut and pinches your nose again.
“Swallow and I’ll let go,” is all he says.
Your eyes begin to water, and not just from the lack of oxygen. It’s from suddenly realizing the hold your captors have over you. Their strength is far superior to yours. They can do anything they want with you. ANYTHING. That thought scares you deeply, burning your core.
They continue to feed you until your plate is empty, until every last bite churns in your stomach uncomfortably. You’re completely exhausted from the ordeal.
“Have you learned your lesson, Little Dove?”
You nod your head. “Y-yes, M-m-masters.”
“And, what lesson is that, Doll Face?” Dabi asks.
Remembering the words from last time, you gulp with shame as you say, “No more tantrums at the table, Masters.”
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aphroditesmoon · 7 months
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♡-;meadowlarks (I)
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gwen stacy x fem!spidergirl!queen!reader (medievel au)
summary: when miguel accidentally sends gwen into a medievel timeline instead of her own after revoking her watch privileges, she sees it as a curse, but you, currently facing multiple challenges after the death of your father, the king, and the escape of a wild beast, finds that you'd appreciate the help.
warnings: hurt/comtort ,fluff, typical medieval sexism, trauma, kissing/makeout(INCOMING CHAPTERS), gore, grief, hesitant partners to friends to lovers, reader has fire powers, tiny bit internal homophobia, reader needs a nap, reader is touch starved, death, mutilation, witchcraft.
taglist; @kamaluhkhan @rissslays-parttwo @marytargaryen @darkstreaks @gwenisasilly @asher-kaden @macncheesemonster @miikshook @marianeski @reeags @goosetheluce @4cepink @yuennie
@primaviva
wordcount; 6.5k
a/n: testing out the waters w this one! 100 notes and I'll do a part 2 <33
▪︎ “AS THE WINTER TURNS THE MEADOW BROWN, YOU GO WHEREVER YOU GO TODAY” ▪︎
°°°°°
THERE ARE THREE thing anyone who’s lived in Old York Meadowlarks for at least a year would notice. The first, is that there had not been any Meadowlarks for nearly two centuries. The specific bird had been declared extinct. The second thing is that it never snows here. There are colder seasons sure, seasons where the winds could freeze you. But no one existing in the realm knew what snow even was. And finally, the third one is, there are no beasts in Meadowlarks.
The people survived through their fair share of thieves and criminals, and wild animals too. But monstrous beasts had remained a folklore. Bedtime stories to scare the children into doing their chores and stay off the woods past 8 O’clock.
And yet, here you are. Not a week after your father’s death, his only heir, now queen, and of course, the secret but very much known Lady Spider, standing inside a layered forest, currently covered in thick white flakes and ice-cold snow , meeting your fate against a minotaur.
Unlike the folktales, this minotaur doesn’t speak. He only growls and chases you to your death with incredible speed. “What the fuck?” was the only thing you’ve been asking yourself for the past 8 hours. You’ve caught mutants before, deformed humans, a consequence of their own black magic curse, but nothing completely inhuman as such.
What’s next? A unicorn?
The beast claws at the tree you’re currently hanging on, climbing up quickly despite his heavy weight, forcing you to latch on other trees faster. It wasn’t that you were incompetent, but merely confused. You wonder if you’ll just swing yourself at him if you tried to fight one on one. You weren’t taking the risk. Making sure he stayed chasing you, the path you were leading him on was into a bear trap. Something to keep him still for a while. Your fingers ache as they clench and unclench with your jumping from tree to tree.
Bold and dim as you expected the beast followed and fell into the hole with a roar, the net set immediately tying themselves around him. “Silly bull, should’ve stayed on all fours.” You muttered to yourself. It grumbles incoherently. Not a second of peace after, peasants from the further parts of the wood scrambles to view the dangerous state you were in. The bear trap being set off, including the terrible sounds the minotaur made, had called for attention. “Armageddon is coming!” An older woman shouted, shielding her son. The crowd makes a circle around you and the monster. Clutching their crosses in fear yet remaining like they're enjoying a circus show.
“Please, everyone. Unless you’d like it eat you first once it breaks free, run.” You yelled out, only gathering more people in. “Gods above, help me.” The minotaur growls again, tearing itself through the net. The people flinched and took steps backwards as the beast tosses and turned. “Move away or get burned.” You shouted, warning them for no less than a minute before blasting fire towards it. Smoke flew all around you as the children and their parents screamed while running off. That’ll do it, you thought as the air began to clear.
But gods no, the unconscious beast jolted, and your heart dropped. It’s fur and skin were already burnt off, but it’s still moving. You swung yourself on a tree above it, sword sliding off your hips into your hands. You hesitated at first, but once the creature’s eyes snapped open, You jumped. Your sword pushed through its right eyeball, earning a screech from it as blood flowed out from the now empty socket.
You pull your sword back out and flung your webs around him, tightening the trap.
The monster clawed at you then, from his restraints. The aggressiveness making you flinch and drop your sword to the ground. “Fuck.”  Its arm stretches out against your web, and shoved you hardly off the net. Your balance fails and you a screamed a rare scream as gravity wins. Flinging your arms around, you panic when you found no stable source to swing yourself on. As quick as a flash, your heart lept when instead of banging your head on hard and now apparently cold snow, You’re swung hard to your left, making you scream louder before your hands make quick to wrap themselves around the body that just saved you.
“I’d love to just be fighting minotaurs all day, we don’t have that much in New york.” It was a girl.
And that wasn’t the most bizarre fact. She was wearing an apparel like no other, and she was swinging with you attached to her like a monkey, the same way you could. “Oh my god this is a dream.” It had to be. You must be hallucinating. The priests had told you it could happen. Grieve often leads to hysterics, especially for women.
But what the church and council didn’t know, is that you do not grieve your father or the man that he was. The man he could’ve been, maybe. But that was a different story.
You feel the wind howl harsher, the cold feels like a bitter sting at your skin. "This is not a dream, unfortunately for us both.” The girl spoke before she loosen her grip for you to swing yourself again. “This doesn’t make sense. Who are you?” You countered. Too many questions to ask. “I’m spider-girl, like you.” She answers simply, retangling the creature. “You’ve got any idea how to fix this?" Rationalizing enough remaining stabilty, you nodded. “Yeah.” You let her try to maintain the grip while you snatch your sword back up and move towards it, aim sharp.
 “Back down.” You warned before slicing it through it’s neck, cutting off the minotaur’s head.
You land on your feet the same time the head falls. Your toes are freezing as it steps on the ground. The blood from the bull's decapitated head spreads all over the snow. It's body still inside the worn out net. That is a problem for the townsfolk to handle today.
The girl lands behind you, footsteps gentle when she moves. “A sword, pretty cool. Pretty heavy too huh?” You turn around to meet her. She wears a skin fitting white suit with a hood over her head, the type of clothing that would’ve had her burned as a witch a few hundred years ago. “If you’re not careful with your next words, you’ll feel just how heavy.”
She backtracks immediately, putting her hands up in defense. “Woah-hey, I just helped you kill that thing.” She reasons with you, hesitating to come closer. “That thing, came out of nowhere, and so do you. For the past 5 years, I’ve been the only Lady-spider here, how do I know that everything going on has nothing to do with you?”
 You were fiercer than usual, maybe. But you would take no chances with the amounts of passings and tragedies your kingdom has gone through this past week. “Lady-Spider? That sounds old, no offense.” You frowned. “Look around, you’re in Old York!” Her shoulder drops. “Oh, yeah. That makes sense.” You realized then that she’s probably not a threat to you. But it does not mean she’s not the cause of all this.
Sighing tiredly, you cracked your knuckles and rubbed them together to ease the sharp winter it’s feeling. “Why are you here?” You demanded again as you begin to walk back out the forests, eyes tracking the dead beast's footprints againts the snow, now beginning to fade. Following from behind, You hear her talk distantly. “I’m…from a different universe. I wish I could give a better explanation, but that’s it. There’s a whole spider society of other spidermen like us in other universes, and I kind of accidentally got thrown here.” You stop in your tracks, turning to her again.
“Other Spidermen?” She nods. “So, you’re me?’ Her eyes widen through her mask as she shakes her head. “Oh no, not at all. I mean sometimes there’s a version of you somewhere else that is also Spiderman, but I’m pretty sure you’re not me.” You take a moment staring at her, trying to process the most insane thing to happen today.
“Take off your mask?” She cocks her head. “Take off your mask, and tell me your name. Only then I’ll believe you.” She scoffs at your words. “I don’t owe you anything, and what would I need you trust for anyways?” It was your turn to be amused now, smiling under your mask. “There is nowhere in this place you could roam freely, without my permission. And no, I’m not exaggerating.” You notice her hesitancy and waited for an answer. “My name is Gwen. Gwen Stacy.”
She would not take her mask off yet, but so far, her name would do. Giving the sky a quick glance, the sun burns a bright reminder for lunch. You wondered how much chastise you’d get from Alistair. “You’re coming with me, Gwen.”
^^^
You had made sure you’d be left alone after your coronation for grieving’s cause. The ceremony was a gloomy one for both you and the council. Dislike was etched all over their faces as the crown was fitted on your head. A 17 year old girl was not their idea of a good ruler. But everyone who knew the game of politics would also know well that the worst kind of law breakers are the ones who made the laws in the first place. They'd rather a corrupt man for their own advantages than a queen of peace.
Slinging back into your room with Gwen, you decided that grieve had to wait, for the worst part of all this was yet to come. She takes a seat on the edge of your purple sheeted king bed, eyes roaming around the rest of the large bedroom. Soon, you noticed how she focuses on the large painting of your late mother. Your hand instinctively went the long necklace with a single pearl on your neck that she had worn for the painting. “Maybe, this is your canon event.” You hear Gwen suggest as you change into a black dress with silver lines drawn by the waist. Your hood and leather jacket is tossed into your closet after you stuck your mask under a drawer.
Giving yourself a glance at the mirror, running your fingers through your dishevelled hair and hoping everyone else would excuse the red rims under your eyes for a state of mourning.
“Your father died, and not a week after, things you claimed to be impossible here, happened.” You trusted her words easily, though the terrible anxiety you’re feeling in the pit of your stomach worsens with the thought of something even worse was to come.
“Maybe you’re right. But that would still mean that there’s a cause for all of this, a starting point.” You could feel her stare as you fix your hair. Her existence was both nerve-wrecking and comforting. To play two roles in one life, is the kind of tiring not every person could understand. “So, are you like, a princess?” She asks finally. “Was” You clarified. “Oh…wait-“
You cut her off impatiently. “I’ve been queen for less than a week, and the worst weather phenomenon just happened, a non-existent mythical appeared, and there’s two spider women. Do you realize just how bad that looks for me, in the eyes of the people, the council?” You challenged brazenly, hands holding your waist as you stared at her. Gwen turns silent again, though her eyes held the same old sympathy that you hated.
“If…” You began, eyes moving from her back to the floor again. She raises a brow. “If I dared to ask for your help..” Her gaze brightens in understanding as she fiddles her fingers. “I would help you. At least until I figure out how to leave here.” Your body relaxes at that, finally seeing the shape of your plan. “I need you to pretend to be me.”
“What?” her voice was incredulous. “If I am to fix this situation, then I’ll need to be both the queen, and Lady-spider, which is impossible. So, I’ll need you to be me.” Gwen stared at you in confusion, “And what exactly will you and Lady-spider be up to?”
“That, will be explained in the meeting.”
The meeting was set that afternoon. The letter was sent the morning you woke up. An emergency meeting with the councils of the state from all over Old York. The men were easy to read. They had attended the meeting with the expectation of the queen’s begging for help and guidance. But you’ve already seen more than you should at a young age to consider yourself a lamb given to the slaughter. You could hear them from behind the doors before you entered.
She’s 17, and unmarried. What will the kingdom be with a child as a queen?
Her ruling is already cursed, It’s a fucking blizzard out there. Have you seen anything so white and cold?
 A minotaur was killed by Lady-spider this morning. I would’ve thought it a lie if Jim himself didn’t see it with his own two eyes. A minotaur! What insanity-
The door pushes open with a loud creak as your guard, Alistair, announces your present loudly, stealing away the mayor and minister's attention from their gossiping. The room is silenced as they move to stand in honor of your entrance. Taking your seat at the end of the table, you meet their false smiles with your own. "Please, sit." 7 men are sat around the long table while a thick white candle is lits in the middle of it with the carvings of ’WITH GREAT POWER, COMES GREAT RESPONSIBILITY.’ written.
Till this day, you refuse to read upon the lines with any devotion or loyalty. You had carried the responsibility since you were born. What has it done for you in return?
Ignoring the changing glances shared right in front of you, you intertwine your fingers together, placing your fists on the table.
“I apologize for the late notice, and I thank you for being able to attend.” You said, with a pretense of gratefulness. They nod their heads in a respectful manner. “As you all can see, dark days are upon us.” Murmurs of agreements spread around the dark room. “If I was superstitious, I’d call it god’s wrath. But the falling out of this kingdom is happening too strategically, too clean. I’m aware I might not have seen this kingdom in it’s worst a thousand years ago, but I’ve been quite lucky to live long enough to know that only black magic could be the answer to this.” The table becomes a dash of confused expressions along with agreeable ones. You notice how some of them have taken to leaning on their wooden chairs with irritable expressions.
There's one thing men do not like than being told what to do by a woman, is being told what to do by a little girl.
“Magic is powerful, but it would take a terrifying level of sorcery for one to be able to summon impossible weather, and, mythical creatures.” Lord Jameson interjects with a raised brow. You could hear the tapping of the heel of his shoes on the stone hard floor amidst the eerily quiet room. It was like a small sign of defiance. "How are you so sure in something that's not even fully investigated yet?" You slowly spin your head at him, a glare embedded in your expression. “-Your majesty,” He adds too slowly.
 ”Yes, well, a powerful witch, given our kingdom’s track record, is much more believable than one of the gods purposely turning your bulls into beasts. And i'm sure if the gods were to punish us for our sins, they would have done it ages ago, it's not like we've been angels these past few years." You responded, reminding him of his slave trading scandal that happened two years ago. Snickers were heard from the other seats.
Glances were exchanged at your words and his, a gist of hesitance and cowardice amongst other things. “Word from my men is that this drastic weather change first started in the east, where most of our plantations are done in. Half of this year’s profit from it is gone, ruined. The people there will eat nothing but last month’s stock, and hunt their own animals, if they’re even lucky to find any in this weather. But afterwards it all went down like dominoes, snow, everywhere. And yet, the minotaur was found here, in town, 2 casualties, only because Lady-spider was quick enough.”
Lord Haycinter acts as the first to actually ask the question you yourself have been. “And what’s the correlation of those two?” The secret glances and talking stops, and all eyes are on you.
“Significantly? Nothing. But if you pay attention, both the town here and in the city have one similarity, their massive population.”You give the old men a few seconds to understand what you mean, the light switch in their brains finally clicking.
“Whoever is causing this, is trying to cause a purge.”
••••
Hours passed after the meeting, you’ve found yourself soaking in the tub for at least an hour now. Your fingers were wrinkly and the water had turned lukewarm. The rose colored walls of the bathing room were bringing back old memories, memories you can’t afford to remember.
So, you closed your eyes and think of the white snow again, and the blood the minotaur had splattered when his head fell off.
Tomorrow a scout of your men, alongside you and Lady-spider will be heading east. Food stock would be divided before an investigation started running. Lord Haycinter and a few others had triedbto persuade you to stay in the castle, let them and the given guard handle the investigation. But you needed the people to see their queen strong and contributing. You needed them to know thate whether they liked you as their ruler or not, you would not abandon them. The good and the bad, they are all under your responsibility.
The last time a deformed beast was made, it was by a witch who managed to create an group of brain eaters, solely to end her rival family’s bloodline. Aethella, old, wicked and spiteful. A long time witch of Meadowlark. Those were the stories spread of her. But you had met her, right before she was executed in your father’s order. She looked 60 in age, white hair clashing with faded black, a single gold tooth that made her look demonic when you see the whole mix of the look.
What would you do if all 8 daughters of yours were murdered with their hearts ripped out and hair shaved off for another man’s magic spells and joke. For another man’s ego and amusement, she has asked you at the ripe age of 15. So she killed his sons back in return. A punishment he deserved, but your father never gave. And she brought them back as the living dead and made them feast off of their father’s living body until he too, ceased to exist.
“But she’s dead now.”
How many witches are there in this town anyways? None as powerful to turn animals into mythical beings.
 Your eyes are closed. The tiredness forcing it shut. What you would you would give to not have to carry the realm’s fate on your shoulders for a week. You flinch at a touch against your shoulder, slipping from unconsciousness to consciousness again. “Gwen.” You could tell. “You’ve been in here for 2 hours, I got worried.” Has it been 2 hours? It only felt like 1. Gwen kneels by the tub, palms remaining on your shoulder. You say nothing in response, too tired to speak. She wears one of your long dresses that you had given earlier. It was becoming of her, despite the clashing of the style with her odd hair.
Seeing how your knees buckle as you try to stand she slips an arm under yours and helped pull you out. Her eyes are trained on your neck until she could grab a hold of your robe and passed it to you. Tying it up in a ribbon, you give her a light push when she tries to help you into your bedroom, refusing it.  You revel in the comfort of your dimly lighted room and it’s warmth, the candle by your bedside as the only source of light for you to get dressed. Feeling Gwen near, you say nothing until she’s walked over to your side.
“We need to go over the plan.” You stated in a matter of factly tone. “Alright.” She agrees. “Tomorrow, before 9 possibly, we’ll ride to the east side of Old York, Fullmar. My people there are made of farmers, hunters, you get the gist."
"They’re the most independent of us. They live near the crops and mountains, so every year, their supply of food are always checked off first. But with the unexpected snow, a lot of the folks are not sure how to maintain healthy crops and plants, they’ve never gone through the extremes like this. So first things first, we’ll divide 10% of Meadowlark’s fruits and vegetables spring stock for them, and then afterwards, I’ll have half of my unit guards search the seaforest for any signs of wild animals or witchcraft.” Gwen listens carefully, her gaze never leaving yours as you continue to explain.
“I thought you said the beast thing only happened once this morning?” She asks in confusion. You shook yourself and gave her a sarcastic smile. “I thought so too."
Rubbing your hands on the back of your neck, you fought the urge to pass out. “An official letter was sent to me from the minister of Fullmar from three hours ago, who unfortunately could not attend today’s meeting, that apparently two girls who had gone missing 3 days ago have been found dead in the woods, their flesh chewed and bitten off.” Gwen grimaced, “fucking hell.” You pursed your lips tiredly. “You’ve got that right.”
You muster up the courage to sit on your own bed next to her, the soft cotton sheets calling you to sleep. Eyeing up Gwen as subtly as possible, you feel guilt crawling it’s way into your moral consciousness when you realized how tired she looked too. Her eyes were slightly red, as if she had been crying. You wondered if she noticed that you have too. “I’m going to figure out how to send you home.” You said aloud, making her laugh slightly. “That’ll be great,”
There was an unspoken bond made when the two of you met eachother. Something along the lines of, 'never actually mention your fathers, even though his name lies on the tip of your tongues.' She missed him, you could tell, despite her only mentioning him once that day.
You have not missed yours. In fact, you suffer in every second that you can't forget him.
“You mentioned something about a watch this morning, my Queensguard, Alistair is quite the technician. Perhaps he could help?” The blonde smiled sadly. And at that moment, all you wanted to do was wipe it off in any way you could.
“Thank you, but I don’t think your timeline’s technology are the same as Miguel’s or mine.” You hummed in understanding, deciding that you’d ask Alistair of it anyways. A sudden realization makes you jump as you quickly move to grab a pillow from your bed. “We should sleep. I forgot to tell you, you’ll be sleeping here for a while. I can’t risk the servant’s gossip of Spider-girl sleeping here, you can have the bed.”
Gwen makes a noise of disagreement, making you halt. “You do realize your bed is a bigger than an elephant, right? We could share, princess.” You feel your face physically heats up and frowned at her. “That is indecent, if we were to be seen even sitting on the same bed, the punishment is worse than tangling with a man.” Gwen’s eyes widen and her mouth hug open. “But that’s bullshit! What kind of man feeding patriarchy system is this?”
You shrug at the obviousness. “The kind that is a man feeding patrhiarchy.”  She tilts her head and accepts the answer after considering it for a few seconds. 
“Yes well, either way I’m not letting you sleep on the carpet. So we share, or I’ll sleep on the ground.” Her persistence was annoying. You can’t understand how she fails to see the problem in this. Women have been killed for far lesser sins. This was as if you’re asking to get tied to a stake. But her eyebags are deep and her back is hunched. So you put your pillows back down, and slipped under the covers next to her before turning the opposite side.
”You love your people.” She whispers out in the dark once you’ve blown off the candle. You could feel the slow rhythm of her breathing next to you.
“Someone has to. God knows my father and his father didn’t.” The both of you let the silence lingers between the space you make, concluding the conversations. “Goodnight.” She wishes, her voice caressed you like the soft winds that pushed through your lilac collored window curtains. “Goodnight."
You could feel sweat rolling down your forehead in an excruciatingly slow motion. The ice was beginning to melt as you ride to the east side with Gwen. The sun now had taken over in the case of extreme weathers. You fixed the shawl covering your head and face and presses your horse to move faster. It’s been at least an hour and a half since you started your journey. You made sure all royal sigils were hidden for now, not wanting to catch any unwanted attentions until the stock arrives.
Despite Alistair’s insistence on you riding in the royal carriage, you stuck through your horse, Merry anyways.
You decided to ride for an hour earlier than the food stock carriages to get some privacy with the investigation. And although you do not regret your choice, a 5 minute break in a carriage doesn’t sound that horrible now. The road was wet with melting ice and it stank of cow shit, but the fogginess from the cold had disappeared and the road seemed clearer. Gwen, who apparently has not rode on a horse for years, ended up behind you on Merry so you could save more time.
You could hear the amusing jokes the rest of the guards made about Lady Spider not knowing how to ride a horse and internally curses her for embarrassing your name.
Your loyal guard rides closer to you until he is side by side, and you could see him giving sideway glances to the girl behind you, judging her. He eyes her up and down. You raise a brow when he turns to you instead. “You know, I’ve been wondering since this morning when you announced that the infamous lone ranger Lady spider would join us, how did you two meet?” He asks, cocking his head at Gwen who’s currently holding onto your waist like her life depends on it as the horse gallops harder. “That’s none of your business, is it Ali?” He hums quietly, looking back on the path in front of me. “Forgive me for questioning you, your majesty. I just worry you trust easily.” You hear Gwen scoff as she sits up straighter. You would punch him in the face for saying those words, if you could. Being treated as a child by someone you trust was worse than being treated that way by a council of slagging, sexist old men.
“I know what I’m doing.” You silence him before giving your horse a light kick to move faster before it’s lunch time. 
Alistair was 5 years older than you. He was assigned to you as a personal guard since you were 12. He was more like a brother than a bodyguard. And seeing how most days, he would be the only one willing to risk the king’s rage to save your arse whenever you’d sneak out or disappear entirely to do your job as Lady spider, his worry and protectiveness was warranted. And yet, as much as cared for you, he was still older, stronger, and still a man. He could not understand you if he wanted to. He was not made as you were.  
Gwen eyes Alistair until he’s out of sight again, behind you. A glare embedded on her face. “Is he always like that?” You hummed positively. “He could use a smile and a less condescending tone.” She says sarcastically, making you smile.
“Don’t be offended, He’s like that with everyone I’m around. He’s just protective.” Gwen makes an ‘ooo’ sound and pushes you with more questions. “What, are you guys like, what’s the word?- Courting! Yes, see I know some slangs too. So are you guys courting?’ You were grateful that she’s behind you so she can’t see how wide your eyes are, hearing her question. “Heavens no.” You breathed out. “He’s like a brother to me, hell, I’ve once made him play tea party with me when I was 12.” Gwen laughs in surprise, eyes brightening. “Him? A tea party? What I would give to see that.” You hummed as an answer, trying to forget the insinuation she just made.
You were never comfortable with questions of courting or marriages. And it’s already terrible enough how much proposal letters you receive from many of the ministers and their sons, even the north King with already two wives had sent you a proposal. When it comes to marriage for politics, there was simply no one good enough or beneficial to help your kingdom so far. And in case of marriage for love, you just haven’t met any man you’re genuinely interested in.
The flat surface of the road was beginning to get bumpy, as are the short cut grass that’s mixing with overgrown weeds. If that wasn’t a sign that you have entered the borders of Fullmar, the broken and faded signboard that lays on the ground with the words ‘FUL M R’ is.
Your bend your neck and letting it stretch while you continue to ride on poor tired merry. “We’re here.” You tell Gwen who’s trying very hard not to fall asleep or fall of the horse. “Finally.” She mumbled back with a yawn. “Now, remember what I told you, no talking unless it’s completely necessary, no showing off your spider tricks, and no w-“ “No wandering off, yeah I got that.” She cuts you off in annoyance. “So do you guys talk like that all the time?” You frowned slowed down your horse. “Like what?”
“Like you’re in a Pride and Prejudice book?” You tilt your head up and try to remember a book with that title. “I don’t think I know what you’re talking about.” Gwen lets out a short laugh. “ Of course you son't."
You waited until the rest of the guards that came with you caught up. “what’s your call?” Alistair asked. “We’ll ride further east until we reach the seaforest, I’ll need at least two guard checking the waterfall area and the caves. Any prints of blood, any signs of hair or human body parts, you take it with you or you call me. Alistair, you search up the old church and the houses near there. Ask questions if necessary. Lady Spider, and the rest of you will be searching the rest of the forest with me.” A murmur of agreement and ‘yes, your majesties’ were said quickly before all 8 of you part ways as you’re told. You pull your horse into a left as you ride into the seaforest’s direction with 3 men behind you.
5 minutes more into riding, you finally reach the said forest. The seaforest was the most known forest of Old York, The trees there are a mix of greens and blue tints. It is known for growing rare fruits and plants mysteriously. Back during the age of witch burnings, is was rumoured that if you were to take anything without the forest’s permission, they would die before they could set foot outside the woods.
But you were sure that it was just an excuse to burn women who used the herbs they got for healing purposes from there without actual valid reasons. Still, you notice how your men quiver and flinch at any small noises of the birds and tree branches.
“Do not get cold feet now.” You attempt to motivate them weakly. “Oh wow, that’ll help them.” Gwen whispers as you help her off Merry after you. “Shut up.” The 5 of you spread ways, two of the guards headed to your right while the other one goes forward.
 You were quick to your left, checking the condition of the bushes and trees to see if the extreme weather had affected them. They hadn’t. “Well this is odd.” You said to yourself.
“What? What did you find?” Gwen asks, basically sprinting from your right. “Nothing. Everything is fine.” She makes a face of confusion. “Okay…?” You ignore her and move to call your men. The three guards came quick to the center. “So far, everything looks fine where you were, yeah?” you questioned them, receiving fast nods.
“And what about snow? Has any of you seen even a bit of melted snow or ice, even a hint of it? Water?” You can feel the tension filling the space between all five of you when you said that. “None…” One of them spoke, the others not disagreeing. “Alright then.” You sighed in frustration. “If all of you are sure there’s nothing, we head over to the waterfall. It's all too good to be true.” The dark skinned guard who spoke up earlier raises his hand to speak. “You don’t have to- just, you know what, just speak.”
“Oh, right, um. Well, we can’t really call it a clue that, everything, is normal, right?” He asks. You shrugged at that and pursed your lips. “Perhaps not, but the fact that the forest is too normal, while the whole realm was in a shitshow of a snowstorm yesterday, is in itself very odd, yes?” The men make a face, considering what you just said. “Uh, I guess?”
“Good. Now let’s see if the others are going through something just as weird.” You spare them no more explanation, walking off to Merry with Gwen to help her on the horse.
The ride was short as the waterfall area wasn’t that far and is still inside the seaforest. You keep a straight face despite your awe in the colorful grown trees. The leaves are almost turquoise and from a far, the whole forest, illuminated by the brightly shining sun, looked almost as blue as the waterfall.
The heat was starting to get to you, you wiped you’re your shawl across the beads of sweat on your hairline, feeling how warm your face is. “I don’t see any of them.” You stated out loud. “Wait let me-“ One of the guards gets off his horse and sprints closer to the caves near the waterfalls. “Tristen?” You heard him call out. But Tristen, hadn’t went alone, he had another one with him too.
“Who was the other one with Tristen?” You ask one of your own. “Fred.” You frowned and looked back. Fred was a shitty name, did not fit him at all.
You watch the guard, Emery, disappear into the cave in search of his friend. A few second later, he exits it alone. “I can’t find him, your honor!” He shouted. “It’s your majesty, dingus.” The guard next to you yell. “Oh.” You ignore their banter, heart sinking at Emery’s earlier words.
“What about Frank?” “Fred.” The guard corrects you in a whisper, “Fred! Yes, not even a sign of Fred?” You can see Emery tilting his head with his mouth hung open in confusion. “Who’s Fred?” Gwen chokes out a laugh, quickly hiding it with a loud cough. You groaned loudly, rubbing your face with your palms. Sweaty and annoyed, you called for Emery to come back before he too, disappears.
Gwen squeezes your shoulder once she realizes how worried you actually were. "Hey, I'm sure they're just with Alistair." You huffed. "I told them to be here, not with Alistair." She says nothing, eyeing you worriedly. "I hope for their sake, they are with him." You sighed out before you rode to the church.
•••••
They were not with Alistair. The concern he looked at you with when you yold him that you couldn't find them, haunts you still.
You made sure the stocks were divided quickly, asking your guard of the news spread around here of the forsests and homicide tragedy that recently occured.
"The twins, Alia and Ana, both had their organs taken off, and their hair shaved. It's textbook dark magic." He exclaimed. And you agreed with his words. Witchcraft wasn't hard to spot. it's the witch, that is. "Their skin looked like it was bitten and chewed off by dogs, beasts. And that's not the worst part." He speaks in a grave tone.
"Their corpes was hung for all to see." You felt a closh shiver running down your spine. Their blood is in your hand. As a rulerr, you've failed. And now your own guards goes missing. "The air here is haunted, Alistair." You had told him after the stock dividing was done.
"There is a stench so foul, only some could smell. And an ugliness only some can see behind the faux magical looks of the forest." And yet, many times have you been in Fullmar with your father, but this time, something sinizter hasve found it's home in the city. He knew what you meant, he felt it too. "We'll camp by the church tonight, alright? We'll wait for Tristen and Fred." He pulls you into an embrace, and you ket yourself relax slightly. Whatever was to happened, you're not leaving anyone behind.
The 6 of you make camp a bit further from the church in the woods, but not in the seaforest. You made sure the spot you chose was still near to the church and streets, in case of medical emergencies.
The moon was currently making it's appearance, in replacement to the sun. The men are talking amongst eachother as they finish their portion of porridge, a fire made in the middle of your circle.
Gwen watches as you stand still by a tree, gazing out at the empty darkness, searching. She places her finished bowl by her pack before slowly pushing herself up from her crossed legged position to walk towards you. She was worried for you. The way you held yourself and your position was respectable, but how yoy deny yourself personal satisfaction and joy is harmful.
You could drive yourself to madness. You cared for your people, too much, to the point where you thought that you'd do a much better job as a queen if you cared for yourself less.
You flinched when you feel her arm on your shoulder. Somehow missing the sound of her loud footsteps meeting the noisy sound of leaves crunching together. "Princess." Your cheeks warmed at the title despite the situation. "Are you trying to cause a scene, starving yourself like this?" She scolds softly, pulling you by your arm to turn around and face her. "I can't eat when I'm too worried." You defend yourself. She raises a brow before dragging you to the circle again.
You don't fight against her, knowing that she's right. You were punishing your body for the mistakes you didn't mean to make.
But it had been 9 hours since your two guards vanished. You wonder if you had sent them to their deaths.
Emery and Yusof is singing together, a soft melody on their tongue to fill the uncomfortable silence and elephant in the room. "I thought I was going to die." Emery serenades slowly, dragging the last word. "But you taught me how to fall, before you taught me anything at all." Both he and Yusof sang.
Gwen is nodding her head to their singinv as she scoops a spoon of your porridge. "Open up." She wiggles her brows as the soon moves in a wavy motion to your mouth. "No! You're not spoonfe-" The words die at the tip of your tongue when she shoves the spoon in your talking mouth, making you swallow it by force. She grins proudly at her victory, making it hard for you to be angry at her.
You glare at her as she continues to feed you a few more times, enjoying the act of embarassing you. The group of 4 men are gently clapping their hands now, making a beat of their song. "I'll take first watch." Alistair announced. "Emery can take after me." The younger whined at that, earning a slap on his shaved head.
He meets your eyes momentarily before looking away at the same emptiness you had just gazed upon before. They're not coming.
Your eyes shut closebin frustration and painful acceptance. Gwens fingers finds yours, intertwining your cold hands and her warm ones together as she leans closer to you. "It's not your fault." She whispers in your ear. You open your eyes to stare back at her, your back against a tree. "They went there on my order." You replied, evidently.
"You didn't know what would happened, no one did." Her gand tightens on yours. "Gwen." You called out tiredly, fighting the urge to cry. "Yes?" She leans her head on your shoulder, her breathing hot in the crook of your neck. "Don't let go, please." She squeezes your fingers. "I won't."
You notice just how blue her eyes are when she's sitting this close to you. And so you fell asleep with her eye color as the last thing you thought off.
You weren't sure how long you had slept for. But when you awoke, it was still dark. You were shaken by the cold wind, jolting you up. Gwen was stuck to your arm, your fingers still intertwined.
She snores slightly, mouth slightly open whem she's dozing off into a dream. You let yourself smile at the girl clinging onto you. Out of all the things you've done wrong, trusting her hasn't been one yet, so far.
Your daydream was shooked away when a sudden sound or rusting leaves makes you flinch. You turn to your front, seeing none other than Alistair. He has his back towarfdyou as he's staring far up front. "Ali?" You called.
He stands still, voice low when he finally speaks. "Do you hear that?" You frowned. "Hear what? And how long have you been up?" He turns his face to look at you. His expression was full of the deepest fears. His hands were trembling. "I've been hearing that for an hour now, but I can't find the source." You say nothing, trying to listen to what he mentioned of.
"Come here." He beckons you in a whisper. You shook your head. "You're scaring me Alistair." He sighs. "I'm sorry, I- look, I'm serious, I heard something, but you can only hear better here." Your fingers squeezes Gwen's arm, making her mumble in her sleep. "Come on." He repeats, stretching out a hand to you. You move from your position to slowly crouch betore standing up, taking his hand.
He walks slowly to where he stood, shielding you as he walks front first, a protective hand still holding yours. "Now, listen." He whispers. And so you follow.
You try to clear your mind as best as possible, searching for the sound he told you off. And right when you were about to tell him off, you heard it. A howl. You gasped and meets his eyes. "Wolves?" You asked. He shook his head. "That's not an animalz that's human. And it's too visible to be far in the seaforest."
You understood then what he meant. "We need to see." He takes a deep breath. "I know but-" you huffed aloud. "No but, I'm going." You push off his grip on you as you stride towards the deeper parts of the woods, with only your missing guards' condition in my mind.
"Damnit, wait!" You hear Alistair curses before foorsteps were hearf getting more far from you, he was waking the others.
"Tristen? Fred?" You whisper yelled. A howl of pain, alike to a scream was heard, louder. Oh my god. You called for them again. Your hands hold onto the tree barks like walls in the dark, the trees being too tall, limiting the moon's light. You curse yourself when you accidentally tripped on a stick, hands finding a tree bark immediately. "Gods sake- Tristen!" You yelled out once more.
"Princess." You jumped at Gwen's voice. Her eyes were droopy and hair messed up, and yet as she watches you longer, her eyes beginnto widen. "Princess. " she repeats, slower. "Gwen." You breathed out in relief. "You scared me." She says nothing, eyes moving up before it remains staring above your head. Her lips quiver as she stutters out incomprehensible strings of words. "I-I heard them." You explained plainly before following the arrow her eyes pointed at.
Your body detaches itself from the tree, and a hysterical scream escapes the deepest parts of your chest and throat.
On the stealthy branches of the tree you held onto just now, were two naked men, with the middle parts of tbeir body torn open, and hung on it. Their blood smears the leafs and bark, and it drips still, falling down onto the grass. Their faces stayed intact, and you recognizes the looks of Tristen and Fred easily.
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superhaught · 8 days
Text
You Hang the Stars in the Sky
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Pairing: Reneé Rapp x Reader
Warnings: none, just fluff
Word Count: 1400
Reader replaces Towa Bird at the Oscars after party as Reneé's guest. Established relationship.
Just a short little thing I wrote while depressed post-Oscars because I like hurting my own feelings.
The only thing that was keeping you grounded in this moment was her pinkie finger twined tightly with yours. You stood side by side with your girlfriend as you waited in line to have your photos taken at the Vanity Fair red carpet for the Oscars after party. 
Reneé, of course, looked stunning as always. She was in a gorgeous white dress with an intoxicating plunging neckline, black heels and her trademark simple, yet elegant, smokey makeup. She had hair extensions that went down to her mid-back and you had been absentmindedly playing with her hair all night, whenever you could.
You felt fine with how you were styled. You were in a flattering suit that complimented Reneé’s fit well, your hair done just so, light makeup to just conceal and brighten… but this whole experience was so far beyond anything that Nae and her team could have prepared you for. 
All around you were blinding lights and flashing cameras, people yelling, celebs everywhere you looked. Even Reneé was feeling the anxiety and she was much more familiar with how to navigate these events than you were. 
You knew that your life was going to flip upside down when you started dating, you weren’t foolish in that regard. Being with Reneé for the duration of her Europe tour the past month meant that people had been looking your way and starting to talk, but you felt assured by the fact that Reneé wasn’t pressed about making a big deal out of going public. She just wanted you two to live your lives together and she didn’t want you to worry about things that were outside of your control. 
Europe was a whirlwind. What was once just a lifelong friendship between you and Reneé suddenly exploded into more shortly before she was getting ready to leave for tour. Her asking you to travel with her was a spur of the moment decision, but one that neither of you regretted in the slightest. 
She had said that you were her saving grace during it. You took care of her when she was sick, made sure she was resting enough, encouraged her to say something about the less than ideal signs that had started showing up at the shows, and just generally loved her and looked out for her. You had said, “I’m just doing what anyone would do for you.” But she insisted that, “no, they wouldn’t.” There were depths to that statement that hit hard for you both, and you realized that she was just as deeply into this relationship as you were.
Now that you were back in the states and things between you had only gotten more serious, your famous girlfriend had warned you that the attention on you might get crazy really fast, and she was right.
You weren’t famous. You weren’t even famous-adjacent. You were just Reneé’s person. And now, you were standing on a red carpet with her and doing everything in your power to not completely dissociate. 
You stood at her side and warped your arm around the small of her back as she gently settled her fingertips into the hair at the back of your neck, moving them in soothing circles, letting your hair twirl around her fingers to calm and ground you. You echoed the motion with your hand on her back, falling into old habits of wordlessly comforting each other through moments of anxiety. 
You tried not to look dead in your face. You tried to look light and joyful and grateful. But every camera flash stung your eyes and every single photographer was screaming at your girlfriend in a way that made your blood boil. 
You could hardly tolerate the way that these people speak to Reneé. And frankly, Reneé was much more prone to flying off the handle than you were so you couldn’t really fathom how she could get through things like this. 
You glanced over at the blonde and quickly got an inkling for how she managed. She was dissociating, as best as she could anyway. She had learned to master the facial expression that wasn’t really a smile but still looked pretty. She kept her eyes loosely focused and her mouth relaxed. She ignored the shouting photographers and just took things at her own pace, posing the way that she wanted to, not really giving thought to whether the photographers got the shots that they wanted. 
In that moment, you made the conscious decision to switch tactics. You gave up looking out at the cameras and just started to look at her. Everything got easier, then. Everything was easy when your focus was Reneé. You just looked at her gorgeous blue eyes and the highlight on her cheekbones and the softness of her lips and the slope of her shoulders and everything was all right. Your genuine smile formed on your face and when Reneé caught your gaze on her, she couldn’t help but smile genuinely, too, laughing sweetly at your expression and taking a second to nuzzle her face against yours as if no one else was there.
She guided you through the rest of the whole ordeal which you desperately needed. When you finally exited the red carpet area, you both took deep breaths and squeezed each others’ hands. You kept a hold of her hand and guided her down some steps, being careful to watch her footing so that the combination of her heels and floor-length dress wouldn’t trip her. 
She sighed at the bottom of the staircase and finally spoke to you, now that it was just the two of you and her agent, “well, that will be a hard-launch if I’ve ever seen one.”
You raise an eyebrow, “what do you mean?”
She giggled, “at the end there, you were looking at me like I hang the stars in the sky. I don’t think anyone will be doubting our relationship anymore.”
You smile and nod your head, “ah…” suddenly, you felt panicked, “wait, is that okay? I didn’t-”
Reneé cut you off, “baby, of course it’s okay. Don’t worry,” she squeezed your hand, “I want everyone to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours…”
You nod again, feeling the anxiety ease a little, “okay… are you sure?”
Reneé stopped walking and turned her body to face you directly, pulling you forward by your hands so that you were close to one another, “I’m sure, c’mere.”
She reached out and placed a hand on the side of your neck. Shivers raced down your spine from the touch of her fingers and the cool metal of her rings. She pulled you in and kissed your lips gently, lovingly. You melted into her like always, your hands instinctively finding their home at her hips and lightly tugging her even closer to you. She smiled in the midst of the kiss and caressed her thumb over your skin, and rubbed her other hand along your upper arm. 
She was everything. At the end of the day, she was all that mattered. You would brave any storm for her, and you’d never want anything about her career to change for your sake, but you were very lucky that Reneé valued your personal lives and your security as a couple a lot. You knew that she wouldn’t jeopardize what you had together, and you promised her that she would never have to choose between you and her work. 
When the kiss you shared came to an end, you met each other's eyes and smiled adoringly at one another. 
“I love you, Nae,” you state, “thank you.”
“I love you too. Thank you for being here with me.”
You nod and lift her hand to your lips, placing gentle kisses on the back of her hand and her knuckles. She smiled and fixed some of your hair, inducing a flood of butterflies in your stomach. She could always do that to you, without even trying. And when she was trying, forget it. 
You met her eyes and said, “for the record, you do hang the stars in the sky.” 
The blonde rolled her eyes at your cheesy line and then pecked a kiss onto your cheek, “you sap,” she joked, “now come on, let’s go party and enjoy ourselves, yeah? You up for it, baby?” 
You crack a smile and nod, “of course, angel.”
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smaptain-smerica · 8 months
Text
Sparrow
Part I - Little Bird
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Pairing: Female!reader x Ghost x König
Summary: Sparrow partners up with soldiers Ghost and Soap on an intel gathering mission when the scars of her past get her into a dangerous situation. After being rescued by KorTac forces, she finds herself working along side them to ensure her freedom.
Maturity: depictions of violence and torture as well as harsh profanity will be written into this story. 16+ recommended
Masterlist
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Chapter 1
"Fucking run!"
Ghost hurdled over a large piece of rubble on the ground with ease.
"This is what happens when they let you make the plan! Fucking bastard!" Ghost growled angrily as him and his friend ran frantically through a ruined town, a rain of gunfire and shouts in a different language trailing them. Soap looked over at Ghost, a wicked smile on his mischievous mug.
Ghost and Soap had been sent on a mission together to gather intel on a suspected threat, and for some reason, Soap was chosen to run point on. That was Price's first mistake.
As the two males thudded across the sands, dodging fire left and right, Ghost thought about their escape plan. Their vehicle had been commandeered so they would just have to keep running until they lost them. In full tactical gear in the afternoon sun on the hot sands of Saudi Arabia, that would be difficult.
Movement caught Ghost's attention as a large Jeep was ripping across the sands and suddenly coming to a stop directly in their path. Ghost was about to make an abrupt turn and run the other way from the mysterious vehicle when he saw a masked woman reach over and opened the passenger-side door.
"Get in! Hurry!" She yelled. He wouldn't have trusted it had she not adorned the SAS symbol beneath the flag of her country of origin on her chest.
Soap reached the passenger side door and jumped in, closing the door behind him. Ghost grabbed onto the hood of the car and lifted himself up and through the open backseat window. Before his feet had even left the ground the woman had already started driving.
Ghost widened his eyes as he beheld the woman behind the wheel. Her hair was tied back in a braid and a thick buckled strap wrapped around her hair was attached to the mask covering the lower part of her face. It looked like a surgical mask except it was black and made of a reinforced material that seemed to be form-fitted to her face. Surrounding her e/c eyes was old black face paint mixed with some patches of dirt. Finally, a small scar ran from the middle of her right eyebrow, over her eye, then disappeared behind the mask.
With expert execution, she ripped the sunroof open and turned her body around to address Soap. "Grab that gun and start shooting."
Without wasting a second, soap heaved the gun that was at Ghost's feet on the floorboards and brought it up to his lap. He stood out the sunroof, the gun hitting the roof of the car before Soap rained hellfire upon them.
Ghost turned around and looked out the back window, seeing rows of men falling victim to Soap's deadly accuracy. The only thing standing between them and freedom now was a rocky maze. The Jeep didn't even slow as they came barreling toward the start of the rocky pathway. The only warning they got from the mystery woman was; "Hang on!"
This must have been a path she had navigated before because she was taking the sharp turns and curves like she had done them one hundred times. Mountains of fallen and weathered rocks were piled around the car as they snaked their way through.
A curse fell from the woman's mouth as she saw what we were quickly approaching. A very narrow passageway adorned with freshly fallen boulders. She hesitated only for a moment before grabbing Soap by his tactical belt and yanking him back into the car. "Get ready to flee the car if this doesn't work." She warned us.
"If what doesn't work?" Ghost demanded, tightening his grip on the 'oh-shit-handle' in the back seat.
Reaching down towards the gear handle she quickly flipped the Jeep from 4-wheel drive to 2-wheel drive without slowing down for a second. That definitely was not good for the vehicle.
Enemies in vehicles of their own were quickly approaching us. A few stray gunshots littered the nearly impenetrable barrier of the vehicle. The woman was not slowing down, not even a little.
Not even when she whipped the car hard to the left, then equally as hard back to the right causing the car to go up on the two passenger side wheels. Just in time for the narrow entrance.
Ghost was glad he had been hanging on, otherwise, he would have been thrown out of the window. The sound of the metal scraping on the roof of the car made his teeth hurt but he soon heard the revving of the engine and the car started to move. They were driving nearly sideways on the wall. Thank god for the Jeep's suspension on the tires. After a few more feet of driving they broke through the other side of the narrow rocky passage, the Jeep falling onto its four tires with a painful bounce.
The Jeep was off again, ripping across the sandy dunes and leaving the shouting men behind them. The woman looked over her shoulder out the back window at the slowly shrinking scene they left behind. Ghost could see it in her eyes as she smiled wildly. Astonished was an understatement for how he was feeling.
"You're fucking insane!" Soap exclaimed, sounding more like a compliment than a complaint.
"It's nice to meet you too, Sergeant MacTavish." The woman hummed with a chuckle laced in her vocal cords.
"You can call me Soap, lass."
The woman nodded her head gently. "I'm First Lieutenant L/n, you can call me Sparrow."
"Ah, my pal Ghost here is a Lieutenant too." Sparrow's attention shifted to where Ghost sat in the back seat. Her eyes met his and he couldn't quite tell what emotions were hiding behind them. She watched him, expectant of an answer. He had none to give her, soap said it all already.
"The fuck is his problem?" Sparrow asked Soap, pointing a thumb back at Ghost as if he weren't even there. Soap laughed and waved a dismissive hand at her.
"He's just shy, he'll come around. Probably."
Ghost rolled his eyes at his partner and then directed his attention outside at the sand dunes. He hadn't even realized that they had made it to a packed dirt road and were now headed west.
"When Price sent me to come get you two, I didn't realize that I would be the getaway car." Sparrow hummed in amusement, meeting Ghost's gaze briefly in the rearview mirror before he looked away.
"Am I sure glad you did?" Soap chuckled, shuffling around in his seat to get comfortable. "Where'd you learn to drive like that?"
Sparrow looked over at Soap as she talked. "My dad was a Formula 1 driver. I was driving a car way before it was legal."
"Really?" Soap asked.
"Oh yeah. He loved it. It gave him and his family a chance to travel the world. I went to every single race." Sparrow explained. A hint of longing was hidden in her tone of voice that Ghost picked up on. He had noticed her use of past tense, it was only safe to assume.
"How'd he die?" Ghost asked.
Soap whipped his head around and gave Ghost a look that said 'Why the fuck would you say that?' Sparrow looked back at him through the rearview mirror.
"Doing what he loved. 3 car crash and only one survived. The doctor said he went quickly and painlessly."
"I'm sorry, Lass."
"We've all got shit that happened to us." She responded.
"Where are you taking us?" Ghost asked.
"Rendezvous point. It's my safe house where I'm currently stationed. Turns out our missions have more in common than we thought. You two better get comfortable, we will be driving into the night."
Ghost eyed the woman suspiciously. He didn't know whether he fully trusted her or not. After everything that had happened with Graves, he wasn't entirely fond of new people. Why had he never seen her before? Was she just a newer addition? What was she doing before this? Those questions would remain unanswered as he sat silently in the back seat, observing the woman carefully as she and Soap made light conversation for the duration of the drive.
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Night had fallen by the time the three soldiers had arrived in a small, quiet town. Sparrow pulled the jeep into a makeshift, tarp-covered overhang next to a small house. Ghost looked down at his watch, it was just past 11:30 pm. The three of them walked in through the backdoor that Sparrow locked behind them.
A three-person couch was in the middle of the room with one armchair to the right. The coffee table was hardly standing on three of its legs. For how dusty and sandy the outside of the house and surrounding areas were, the sitting area was surprisingly clean.
Sparrow threw her backpack on the armchair and strolled through a doorway that looked like a kitchen. She came back through the door shortly with three beers in her hand. "They're not very cold. The fridge doesn't work very well."
Soap eagerly grabbed the bottle and popped the cap off. Ghost took the bottle more tenderly. "If you're hungry there's some canned soups in the cabinet. You can heat it up if you start a fire under the stove." Sparrow explained as she took a swig of the beer herself.
"You can take a shower if you want but there's no hot water. Don't drink the tap water, it's disgusting. I have some boiled water in water bottles in the fridge." Sparrow walked towards a hallway with two doors on the right and one door on the left.
"Over here is where you'll sleep. If you two are going to have sex keep it down, we share a wall." Soap nearly spit out his drink at the comment. Ghost chuckled, starting to like the woman a little more now.
"Bathroom is over here. If you need me, knock first. Other than that we will go over the folder in the morning." Sparrow saluted to them before slipping into her bedroom door.
Ghost looked over at Soap whose eyes were trailing where Sparrow had disappeared into her door. Soap's attention turned back towards Ghost with a wicked smirk on his face. "I like her."
Soap opened the door to their bedroom. There were two neatly made beds on either side of the wall. Soap was already taking off his shoes and undressing on the bed on the left. Ghost wasn't sleeping. He wouldn't fall asleep for a few hours at least.
Without another word, he walked out of the door and took a few steps toward the entrance to Sparrow's room. The door was open a crack and she didn't have her shirt on, her back to the door. Ghost knew he shouldn't have looked, it was disrespectful. He should have turned away immediately but the large, nasty scars across her back captured his attention. He stared through the door, wondering, how something like that could have happened. Did it also have something to do with the scar on her eyebrow?
Ghost quickly stepped away from the crack in the doorway and knocked twice on her door. "Hold on."
Sparrow returned to the door a few seconds later wearing a loose, long sleeve shirt and the black mask adorning the bottom of her face. She looked up at Ghost and cocked an eyebrow. "Everything okay? I promise the sheets are clean."
"No, it's not that." Ghost reassured her.
"Can I see the mission brief for tomorrow?"
Sparrow nodded. "Not ready to sleep?" She asked, leading them to the living room where she shuffled through her backpack.
"No."
Sparrow hummed in response as she pulled out a Manila folder, blowing some of the dust off it before handing it to him. "I get that."
Ghost grabbed the folder, looking into her eyes. He wore a mask. Always. At all times. He had just never been on the receiving end of the effect it had on some people. Ghost wanted to take her face in his hands and see what she was hiding. He wondered if the scars on her back were connected to why she hid her face. How similar were they in that sense?
"Lieutenant!" Ghost finally snapped out of his trance and looked around at what would be the woman's features.
"I don't have time to stand here all night and let you admire me." Ghost felt his face heat up, thankful that the mask was covering it.
Sparrow smiled with her eyes as Ghost took the papers from her. "Try to get some sleep tonight, yeah?" Sparrow patted his shoulder causing him to tense and go rigid underneath the touch. He simply nodded his head and watched her walk around the corner of the hallway.
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You had been stationed here for a few months now on stealth missions to gather intel on a suspected terrorist threat. The town where you were stationed was in ruin. The water lines and plumbing were shit, most of the food was stale and full of preservatives. The buildings had zero AC and hardly enough electricity to power the street lights. Most of the time, the town felt very glum.
But every Sunday, the town sprung to life. All the citizens got together all their hard-earned money and created. Jewelry, candles, soaps, spices, baked goods and fresh fruits. All the children played kickball in the fields. Then when the adults had drunk their supply of beer, the adults joined in on the fun. By the end of the day everyone is singing under the setting sun.
Today was Sunday. You were talking around the market in a jilbab, a head scarf wrapped around your head to cover your hair and the lower part of your face. You were self conscious about the large, ugly scar on the lower half of your face. You didn't want to scare any of the locals with the ugliness of your troubled past.
Being around for so long you had picked up on some Arabic. Enough to communicate with the vendors anyway. They knew more English than you did Arabic so you felt it was only fair that you tried to learn.
You had managed to score a few goodies for yourself and the boys for breakfast. Cost you extra to buy extra food but you didn't mind doing it.
You entered the house through the front door and saw both the large men sitting on the couch, the papers from the mission reports spread out on the table. "You two are lucky! I scored some good stuff for breakfast."
You dug around in your basket and threw an orange to each one of them. They both caught them and looked at them questioningly. "And!" You added, setting the basket down on the arm of the chair.
"Amira owed me a favor, so I got these." You set down two muffins on the table and looked at the two men with an eager smile under the scarf.
Soap met your gaze and smiled widely. "Thanks, lass."
"How long have you been here?" Ghost asked, his raspy and deep voice racking chills up your spine just like it had the first time you heard it. You looked into his eyes, the dark and mysterious eyes that the black paint surrounding them only added to it.
"A few months." You responded while taking a muffin for yourself from your basket. You brought it up to your mouth under your scarf to still conceal most of your identity.
Soap had already finished off the muffin and began to move on to the orange. Ghost looked down at his muffin and then over at Soap's orange. Ghost grabbed the citrus out of Soap's hands and replaced it with his muffin he didn't eat. You chuckled a little at the behavior.
"So, tell us what the game plan is." Ghost leaned back in the chair, shifting his hips upward to get into a more comfortable position. He removed a glove from his hands and began peeling one of the oranges.
You noticed the scars on his hand as you watched him peel back the layers of the fruit. The way his large hips moved as he readjusted. You had to push down the inappropriate thoughts before they bubbled to your brain.
"Basically, what I've been doing is gathering intel on a possible terrorist threat to the nations. That town you two were in that you so graciously sent into a guns-of-glory spiral was my main operating place. Lucky for you two, the man I've been tracking, Saad Faizan, is meeting with some of his business partners. You'll assist me with gathering the intel that I've been working on getting for months. Then, when Saad's business partner leaves you'll track their location and get in contact with Price from there."
Both of the men looked at you with their heads tilted as you half-assed the explanation of the mission. "So that's it?"
You shrugged your shoulders. "That's it. There's no guarantee how long the men will be here for. It could be today, it could be weeks. Your only job is to make sure I don't die, and follow them when they leave."
"Copy." Was all Ghost said with a nod.
You stood up and made your way over to a trunk by a small window, popping it open. The inside was covered in all kinds of weapons and ammunition. You began to grab your preferred weapons from the crate.
"Take whatever you want, I'm going to go get ready then we will roll out." You walked to your room, making sure to shut the door and lock it before taking off your headscarf.
Looking in the mirror was a difficult task, one you forced yourself to do every day to come to terms with the marring that you now adorned. Two years of forcing yourself to look at it and you still hadn't gotten used to it. Your fingers gently touched the white, rugged skin across your right cheek. A weight pressed down on your chest as you reached for the mask you adorned every day. You put the mask on and buckled the strap in the back firmly. The headscarf returned to your face to maintain a casual appearance for gathering information. The scars made your face too recognizable without it. You weren't sure why they kept you on intel missions. After the accident you pushed for moving to being a Sniper. It would be easier than having to conceal the ugly every day. But they said they couldn't lose you, you were a valuable asset.
When you returned to the living room you saw both the men had finished gathering their desired weapons from the trunk and they both looked at you expectantly.
"Let's roll!"
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Ghost and Soap stayed in the truck on the outskirts of the city while you made your way through the town to the restaurant that they were supposed to be meeting at. Your eyes scanned the area for any suspicious threats as you continued walking. Not that anybody could tell you were military, just a cautious habit of being a woman.
"Little bird, how copy?" Ghost's voice rang in your ear.
"Two shakes of a tail feather from location." Your quick wits responded before you could even think about it. You couldn't decide if the silly little nickname pissed you off or gave you butterflies. You heard a hum of a chuckle at the other end of the comms after your response.
You opened the door to the restaurant, immediately spotting the man you had been tracking for months. Dark colored hair, almond shaped eyes, fuller lips and a Roman nose. Next to him sat a smaller man that looked nervous beyond belief. You pulled a small bugging device from your pants pocket under the jilbab.
Picking up a brisk pace, you walked near his table, reaching under the table and placing the bug. You hurried over to the opposite side of the restaurant and took a seat. "Bug is in place. Tap me in." You said in your com to the boys.
Some static noise filled your ear before you heard the Arabic man talking. The waiter came over to you with a smile, asking you what you would like. You responded 'water' back to him in Arabic before he hurried away. "You know Arabic?" Soap asked.
"A little. What I could pick up in the span of a couple months." You responded. Suddenly a very tall, dressed to the nines, blonde man walked in. Followed by a smaller, equally as well dressed brunette.
They both sat down at the table with Saad and the smaller man introduced himself in another language to Saad's partner. The two business men were primarily talking to their partners that they brought, then the partners would talk to each other and then their bosses. That's when you realized that they were translators.
"What language is that, German?" Soap asked.
"No, Russian." You responded quietly as you tried to listen to the choppy conversation between the translators. "Something about moving drugs and guns."
"How many languages do you know, little bird?" Ghost asked, another shockwave running up your spine and sending butterflies to your stomach.
"Russian, German, French, Italian, Spanish. English, obviously. I'm not fluent in any of them but I know enough to get by." You explained.
"Color me impressed." Ghost hummed in your ear.
"You've got enough black face paint as is. I don't think you need any more colors." Your wits responded, earning a laugh from soap in the background of Ghosts com.
You were smiling to yourself under the mask when you heard a familiar word. Баба́й. Babai.
"The boogieman..." you whispered, suddenly coming to a chilling realization. "I think this is the Russian Mafia."
Silence rang from the other end of the boys comms before Soap spoke up. "What do we do?"
"Wait. We will send the audio back to base to be translated." You explained while bringing out a small notepad and tried to write down as many words of the Russian man that you could understand. Most of it was illegal trade of guns, drugs, typical mafia stuff. Until an unknown word caught your attention. "раб." You breathed.
You listened to the next few words in Russian to try and get some context. He was talking about men, sending men and women to Saad and vise versa. "I think they're trading people."
"Armies?" Ghost asked.
"The Russian mob doesn't have an army." You whispered back into the com.
"Slaves?"
A worried breath escaped your lips as a weight pressed down on you. You hoped with every fiber of your being that wasn't true. But for some reason it made the most sense.
About an hour had passed of you sitting in that restaurant and just listening to the conversation. You tried to write down as much as you could understand of the two languages but was grateful that the audio got translated by the professionals.
The Russian man and his partner stood from their seat and headed for the door. That only left Saad and his partner sitting there. They made conversation for a little before both of them stood up to leave. Saad had his partner turn ahead of them to leave. But Saad didn't leave. He rotated and looked over his shoulder, directly into your eyes. Your heart stopped and chills ran their way from your scalp and down your back.
Saad held your gaze for a few more seconds before facing back forward, and leaving through the door.
Next Chapter
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slasherlaurie · 9 months
Note
PLS GIVE ME ARTIST X SURVIVOR!FEM!READER THAT BEFRIENDS HER CROWS ON ACCIDENT BY SAVING ONE AFTER ANOTHER SURVIVOR HURTS IT
The reader beats tf out of the other survivor because she's VERY much against animal abuse, so after she patches the crow up and gently plops it in the nest with a little forehead kiss. Then she hunts that other survivor down for sport. But around the artist, she's all shy and sweet (aka bi panic)
Essentially they meet/get close bc of this
I love this woman. I don't know how to function around her. I have also always loved birds and befriended the crows in my neighbourhood, so when she was added to the game I short-circuited.
Thank you.
HIII yes absolutely queen 🫡🫡 i made this so the reader is a newish survivor if thats ok? i just felt it fit a lil bit more for the story but lmk if not and i’ll fix it!
warnings: minor violence, almost implied nsfw but its more just specifying the reader is female, yun-jin kicks a crow, vv long read, my shitty ass english 😭
NOT PROOFREAD/BETA READ
Carmina Mora/The Artist x Crow saviour!Reader
the trial had been going as most do, repair the generators, unhook and heal teammates, try not to be hooked yourself. you were waiting to go unhook Adam, hiding in a particular corner in the realm with the stacked cars (autohaven? you hadn’t been in the entity’s world long enough to remember), when Yun-Jin Lee came sneaking over to you. just as you had decided to sprint over and heal Adam together to get it done faster, a crow appeared seemingly out of nowhere, the small mass of black feathers cawing loudly and alerting the killer of your location. you heard Yun-Jin curse softly in Korean under her breath and then ready herself to sprint away and grab Adam, but not before giving the crow a hard kick to the side.
you were never a violent person, but in this moment you saw red. had it not been for the pained caws of the poor bird, you would’ve immediately taken chase after Yun-Jin to get the crow’s payback with murderous intent. fortunately for the poor thing, you stuck around to help, not even caring if the killer does come to attack you.
you began your approach to the creature slowly, softly trying to communicate you’re not a threat. before you were taken by the entity you had befriended and helped many crows in your neighbourhood, so this shouldn’t be hard.
“hey-shhhh its ok, im here to help you”, you whispered as you took off your jacket to wrap the poor thing in. from the looks of it, the sweet creature wasnt hurt too bad yet rage still flooded your being. its not like it has a choice after all, it just had a job to do. deciding then and there you were going to get revenge for this, you hid for the rest of the trial, making sure that your new friend was safe and comfortable with you all the way back to the campfire.
due to the strange abundance of medkits back at the survivor camp, it was easy for you to get your little pal all fixed up. it was clearly scared at first, but it quickly relaxed, forming a connection with you and feeling you were someone to trust. after a good bit of throat-tearing yelling at Yun-Jin, you took some time to think about where to bring the bird. leading to where you are now.
the eyrie of crows was not a realm you had found yourself dropped into a trial in, yet you had heard the other survivors speak of a monstrous bird woman, turned and twisted by the entity until it was hard to tell where human stopped and ink began. you’re scared, but curious too. you know your friends often exaggerate the horror of the newest arrivals in the fog, so you wonder if The Artist (as she had been assigned by the ones who had faced her most so far) is really as terrifying as you expect.
turns out, you wont have to wait long to find out.
as you finish making your way to what seems to be the main building of the sandy realm, you take a moment to stare in awe at the magnitude of the tower before checking your feathered companion is still ok. climbing over a window to get inside, you find yourself in awe once again, but for a completely different reason.
from the paintings scattered around the bottom floor, to the large messy bookshelves, it is made clear that this place does not belong in the fog. its far too cozy, too welcoming. infact, so welcoming that you dont even notice the tall, nimble figure sneaking up on you.
the only warning you receive of the killer is an angry caw before inky hands wrap around your neck and slam you into the nearest wall. as you wince in pain and surprise, The Artist turns you around to face her.
this… this cannot be the same killer that your fellow survivors had talked about. she’s so gorgeous. too pretty. as her warm, angry breath fans across your face, you feel butterflies rise in your stomach. she almost seems to be carved out of marble, perfect cheekbones and jawline complementing her sharp eyebrows and sharper gaze. as she caws again, as if to ask what you’re doing in her home (or as close as someone can get to a home in the fog), you cant help but notice how soft her lips look too, a sudden desire growing for her to paint your lips black with the ink dripping from hers. her grip tightens, and you remember why youre here.
“i h-have a crow. was injured,” you barely manage to wince out against her tight grip, while softly taking your small buddy from your makeshift carrying sling, “h-here.”
you seem to have made the right decision bringing your companion here, as The Artist’s eyes immediately soften upon reaching your hands. letting go of your neck, she trails her hands down to yours in a way that immediately brings back those pesky butterflies, but you focus on your feathered friend.
cawing affectionately, The Artist softly takes the bird from your hands into hers, making her way upstairs. she doesn’t get too far though, because when your buddy realizes you aren’t following, it immediately starts cawing and flapping its wings in your direction in a panic. confused, The Artist pauses, holding the bird up the stairs and then back down towards you, then repeating as if confused. she coos to the bird quietly and it responds like they’re whispering to each other, and after a bit of back and forth, The Artist turns and gestures for you to follow her up the stairs. you walk behind her slightly, not completely able to keep up with her long, pale legs covered by her swaying dress and- “no. not the time,” you think to yourself, face reddening.
so enamoured and distracted by the presence of The Artist, you hardly notice the large crow’s nest in front of you. however, a sudden inky hand to your torso prevents you from colliding with it, almost making you jump in the best way with how dangerously close her fingertips are to your breasts. removing her hand much too quickly, The Artist beckons another crow over, as if telling it to take care of the new addition to the group. you pat your friend on the head on more time, wishing it luck and promising to see it again, and then its off with the others.
already missing your feathered buddy, you turn to find The Artist staring at you, reading you. her beautiful black eyes are so sharp, yet the anger from just before has faded, replaced with something softer. cawing once, she takes your hand in hers and leads you to the balcony on the same floor. amidst becoming a mess over the feel of her hand wrapping yours so perfectly, so fittingly, you worry for a moment that she’s taking you out here to push you over the edge (though she doesnt seem like she’d do that from what you’ve learned so far). yet, you are soon proven wrong as you round a corner and are met with a painting clearly belonging to the woman who had done all the ones downstairs, the same woman who is now weaving her ink fingers between yours and reaching for the bottom of the canvas with her other hand. she wants your opinion?
“its lovely! youre very skil-“
you’re cut off by a hard shake of her head. The Artist is pointing at something more clearly now: small letters at the bottom left of the canvas, hardly even noticeable if not pointed out. leaning in to read properly, you softly gasp when you realize. its a name. no, its her name. The Artist’s.
Carmina Mora.
“Carmina… that’s so-“ you have so many words to describe, all positive, yet you settle on “-gorgeous.”
turning away so she doesnt see the growing blush on your face (and luckily for Carmina, so you miss her red tinged cheeks at your compliment), you introduce yourself in return and offer your hand out to shake. only for Carmina to take it with both of hers, and hold it to the middle of her chest while nodding her head. a thank you.
“god,” you think to yourself, “im so gay”
the two of you then spend the next few hours or so together, getting to know each other. you get along so well, so naturally, that you wonder to yourself if you were destined to meet outside the fog as well, if you had not been taken. Carmina is so drawn to you, unexpectedly comfortable around you in a way she’s never been with anyone she’s known. you both soak up each other’s presence so much you hardly even notice the sun beginning to set.
you dont want to leave, yet you know the other survivors would endanger themselves and go looking for you if you dont get back before nighttime, and you cant risk that (though you wouldnt mind if Yun-Jin went missing). wishing Carmina goodbye, you begin to walk away slowly, needing to spend as much time with her as possible. however, you dont get very far before pale ink arms are wrapping around your waist and a warm chest is pressing into your back. Carmina coos into your ear, as if asking you to come back soon, and of course, you will. you promise.
relieved to know she’ll see you again, Carmina lets you go and watches you until the fog consumes your figure. you’re a welcome surprise to her, she had never expected to meet someone in her new home that she’d tolerate, let alone enjoy the company of. the other killers were loud and cruel, and the survivors were awful and often obnoxious. except you. you’re different, you understand.
making up her mind, Carmina decides she will send crows for you soon, make sure you visit quickly. you’ve caught her attention, and she has a strange feeling like this was meant to be 🖤
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the-offside-rule · 9 months
Text
Max Verstappen - Nice To Meet Ya Part.2
Part 1
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Max stood outside Y/n's hotel room, waiting for her to finish up getting ready. He kinda convinvced himself that he would be able to take her out on a date and know her a bit better, maybe enough to get a date out of it. He lifted his head up as he heard her door opening and out she walked in a black jumpsuit and jacket. His jaw quite literally dropped. "Alright there Max?" she mused. "I- yeah. We should get going shouldn't we?" she asked. Max nodded in response before the pair walked to the elevator together. "If the team dinner gets insufferable, can I take you out?"
"No." He was a bit taken back by her answer. "And why not?"
"Because this dinner is to celebrate your win today so therefore you need to stay."
Max groaned in frustration. "I think the date I had planned would blow your mind though." Oh she hated how cocky he was getting. "It takes a lot to blow my mind Verstappen." she replied coldly. "Well I think if you gave me a chance you would like it." He wasn't giving up and it was becoming a serious problem now. "Max, your team dinner. Maybe some other time." And now Max was being bothered by her. "Do you just not like me?" he asked. She looked at him strangely as it had just come from his mouth after a very long and uncomfortable silence. "If you don't like me, thats fine just tell me so I can not like you in return." She scoffed. "All that your father taught you, you'd think he'd at least teach you how to talk to women." Max clenched his jaw in anger. "So you don't like me then?" he muttered. "I didn't say that -"
"Well that is what it sounds like!
"You are actually a child!" she retaliated. "You just insulted both me and my father!" he yelled back. "Killing two birds with one stone! I may as well since I have the chance!" Now he couldn't help but have this burning hatred towards her. "You know what? Maybe I should have listened to everyone and not asked for your name! My life would be so much better if I hadn't!"
"Excuse my french but fuck you!"
"Well excuse my french but j'adore la mer!" Y/n knotted her eyebrows at him, confused out of her mind. "Who told you that was an insult?!"
"Charles did!" Y/n snorted and began laughing. She couldn't keep angry for very long after he just belted out that he loved the sea in the hotel lobby.
"What is so funny?" he asked. "You just said you adored the sea!" Max's cheeks flushed red from embarrassment. "I-I'll just go-" he was cut off by Y/n grabbing his hand and pulling him back slightly. "Wait for me! I beg!" He fought the urge to smile very well but found it difficult when looking at her so his best bet was to of course look away. "Did you really not know what that meant?" She asked, finally calming down. "No, but Ferrari are going to find themselves short a driver." Max mumbled. "Oh come on! I thought it was funny. Cute even." Max shot her a glare. "Cute? F1 drivers aren't cute. This one isn't anyway." Y/n chuckled to herself. "That's not true. You're adorable when you're grumpy and when you're happy so there's no way you can't be adorable." He tried to find a middle ground quickly and settled for a poker face. "That's so cute!" she squealed lightly, making him break character and laugh along with her. "You know what? Let's speed run this date thing."
"What? I thought you wanted to go to the team dinner." he questioned. "Yes but I thought you wanted to ditch it and since you're a driver, you must be quick and used to speed running things." Max smirked and nodded. "So are we going to speed run our date then?"
"Ready when you are..."
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natwrites08 · 8 months
Text
“Enchanted” (Erling Haaland x FemReader) 
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Summary: After an embarrassing first encounter, she needs to prove to him that meeting him was just a big coincidence, but first he needs to stop being so grumpy and give her a chance. (Strangers to Lovers)
Word Count: 4.9k
Warning: Fluff, Angsty, mean Haaland (For only a bit, then he is sweet).
a/n: This is a request, they requested something fluffy, but I'm also going to create a longer story a bit angsty as well (there needs to be some conflict), I actually really like Haaland so I don't have a problem writing for him, I think that he is sweet. Also since he is someone that is new to my blog, I like to give longer and more detailed stories (although it is always scary to post for someone new, I always get nervous when hitting the post button). This story will be based on Taylor Swift's Enchanted song, a lovely song that fits the story. 
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She really enjoyed her life, she was happy surrounded by beautiful people, that is until her life changed when she met him. At first she thought that he was arrogant and mean, but she didn’t really know him at all, because he turned out to be sweet, he was just put in a very tough situation since he was a teen, so of course he was grumpy. 
She moved to Manchester to be closer to her best friends Alex and Joy, they however lived in a very small flat, lucky for her Alex had a boyfriend, who’s friend needed a roommate. So here she was living with Theo, a model from Brazil. At first she was a nervous wreck, someone so handsome so close to her, but she got over it and now they are really good friends.  
She worked at a nice boutique for the elderly, it wasn’t just for older women, but no young girl would ever wear a turquoise dress with birds printed on. Lucky for her there were cute shops surrounding “Judy’s Closet” . It was always busy but calm, but that all changed when she was cleaning a window. 
Singing softly to some Anitta Per Theo’s taste in Music, a very tall man ran past the shop, she however noticed him dropping his black wallet. So her common sense kicked in and she chased after him, only he didn’t seem to like that very much, of course he was super fast, the whole time her legs were burning and she desperately wanted some water, but he was a pro at running it seemed, until she bumped into a very hard chest. It was like a cartoon, having to break her neck to look up, but she wasn’t exaggerating; he was really tall, very red and scary. 
“Can you stop following me”
“But I…”
“No I will not take a picture with you or sign anything, I want to be left alone” 
“I don’t want any of that, I just want to retu…” 
“Just walk away” and she did just that, she really wanted to throw the wallet at him, but maybe that’s what he gets for being so rude, and honestly she was petrified of people yelling at her, so she tended to close up. So she returned back to her job, where a very worried Judy comforted the nice girl. That was her true weakness, being so nice, however she was sassy and funny, and sometimes all her negative emotions exploded until she had nothing positive left to give. 
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So here she was waiting for Theo to get back from work, she needed his advice. 
“Why do you look so sad?”
“Someone was very rude to me today”
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know someone named Erling haaland….”
“What você está louco?, Erling Haaland? that’s a professional football player, how did you meet him” 
Of course Theo would know, he was a huge fan of football every weekend he tried to keep up with every match, and she frankly didn’t care, he could be the next king and she still wouldn’t allow him to treat her so badly. 
“He dropped his wallet, so I chased him and he sounded so entitled, thinking that I wanted an autograph or a picture it wasn’t till I got home that I looked at his identification and found out who he was” 
“So contact him” 
“I tried but I was blocked, I feel like he recognized who I was, I said “I have something of yours” and he blocked me” 
“Darling that sounded so creepy”
“I know now, I should’ve gone straight to the point, now I can’t just show up to his place or mail it what if it gets lost or something” 
“We can try to go to the training grounds? I’ll drive you” 
“Ok when?”
“I mean it is Wednesday so tomorrow before work, we can go?”
That was a perfect plan, she just didn’t want anything to go wrong, however their plan was quickly ruined the next day. 
So here they were arguing with the security guard.
“No you don’t understand, it’s very hard to get in, I want to help you trust me I do” 
“We know sir, but I need him to come here, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but I also just want to show him that I was not following him or stalking him, or whatever else he is saying about me I want to clean my image” 
“Ok let me get back at you ok, I need to let them know that you’re here, I’m sending a picture of your license” 
“What do you think Theo? Will he come”
“I doubt it amor, these people are the worst, they are so entitled, I’ve worked with some of them and never again” 
“Well hopefully he will”
Maybe she was too hopeful because the security came back with news that if they didn’t leave the police will be called and he even threatened with a restraining order, so they had no choice but to go to his house and leave the wallet on his doorstep.
So here she was writing a very detailed letter, regarding the incident, she obviously apologized but she was very clear that what he had done was wrong for not hearing her out and threatening her with prison time. So after the letter they drove very far to a private residence, a huge huge building with security guards at the door, so there will be another problem. 
“Hello, I’m here to drop off a package for mr. Haaland”
“Ok let me see, do you know where you’re going?”
“Yes I do sir”
“Perfect he is waiting for you” she thought that it was easy to convince him, what if it was a trap. However the other Haaland answered the door, an older man, probably his father.
“Hello sir, who are you in regards to Erling Haaland?”
“I’m his father, Alfie, why?”
“I’ve been trying to contact your son for days now, but he has threatened me with calling the cops and restraining orders when all I wanted was to return the wallet that he dropped, I’m sorry about all of this, but at least now I know that it’s in good hands, and by the way tell your son to never be so entitled, tell him that not everyone knows who he is, I was just trying to be nice and return his belongings, you can check to see if everything is in there” 
“How else did you try to contact him?”
“I went to the training grounds sir, but the security obviously didn’t let me in, and through social media but I was blocked” 
“How did you find his wallet?”
“Well I work at a boutique and I was cleaning the window, when he ran past the shops and dropped his wallet, I chased him but eventually he yelled at me and I got scared so I didn’t give him the wallet, again I’m sorry please tell him that, thanks for being so understanding, have a good day sir” 
“You too, and don’t worry he will apologize to you”
“Oh no sir as long as I never see him again I will be content, thanks again”
“Have a good day”
Just like that she left his building, thank god that it was his father and not someone else because she was quite awkward with new people, especially those that looked super intimidating, their blue/green eyes were very deep almost judging your every move, so she was glad that she will never have to see him again. That is until that same tall blonde was seen walking around every shop, to find her, she however was not going to give him the time of day. 
She now was cleaning the door per ruby’s request, when she saw him from across the shop, he was going into every store. If he was smart he would remember which way he was running, but maybe he was actually dumb just by the looks of things he was frustrated and maybe a bit angry. So she waited for him to find her, and when he finally did make it to the store he looked at the ceiling smiling, mumbling something in a foreign language. 
“I Finally found you”
“Yeah you did, a bit dumb don't you think?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well you would’ve remembered the direction you were running to”
“Yeah but I just wasn't thinking back then”
“I guess you weren’t”
“I'm sorry about everything, I should’ve been thinking more clearly, I shouldn't have assumed…”
“Yeah I had no idea who you were or who you are for that matter, I certainly don’t want your autograph or a picture with you” 
“I’m sorry, I’m Erling, but you probably know everything about me…” so she told him her name just to be more polite but then again she didn’t owe him anything, she wanted the interaction to be over.
“Well it’s nice that you apologized, but I have to get back to work…”
“I’m sorry for interrupting your day, but I don’t want you think that I’m an asshole, I was just having a really bad day, and I took it out on you, after reading your letter and seeing the wallet that I deemed as lost, it all made sense” 
“But why were you running?”
“I don’t know, to feel free, that’s why I came to a different unfamiliar place” 
“Well again I’m glad that you apolog…”
“Oh my, he is so tall, are you looking for something dear?”
“Judy, this is Erling a friend of mine, he just came by to say hi” 
“Well go on your break now so you two can catch up, I can clean the door…”
“That won’t be necessary Judy, he was just leaving” 
“Yeah thank you, I’ll see you around” 
“Well love, walk him outside, don’t be rude…”
“Ok fine, let’s go out” 
“I’m sorry again, and that I also scared you, usually I don’t tend to scare people” 
“Well you actually looked very scary at the moment believe it or not… I mean you’re tall but not at all intimidating like I thought, just please don’t ever treat someone bad again, because I bet that they won’t be as nice as me” 
“I promise…friends” as he extended his hand, she accepted “Friends”. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she thought, and the moment that their hands touched he swore that he felt something, she was beautiful, and instead of him being scary, she was the intimidating one. He probably fell in love in that instant, yet she didn’t and it would take a long time to convince her. 
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“You won’t believe what happened Theo”
“What, you know I’m not good with guessing”
“Well I saw Erling walking around every shop, because he wanted to apologize, and now he wants to be friends”
“That’s nice that he finally apologized, but do you really think he will be friends with you” 
“I mean probably not, but I’m happy that he apologized” 
“Just don’t get your hopes up, because I don’t want to see you cry again ok, now why don’t you help me pick an outfit for my date” 
“Ok boy or girl this time?”
“It’s a boy this time, he has green eyes and dark long hair” 
“I bet he is super handsome, so your outfit should be more comfortable right” 
“You get it amor, I don’t need to impress a man, however a girl needs to be swept away” 
“I mean you’re pretty handsome, so you have no problem with that”
“Yeah but I’m also nice” 
“Exactly Theo, but I’m sad that I will spend my night alone” 
“I’m sorry amor, tomorrow we will do something, like go to the cinema, how about Alex and joy?”
“They have dates also, but you better take me out tomorrow I’m bored” 
“I promise, who knows maybe you will get a boyfriend soon”
“As if that’s possible, I’m just not lucky enough to be loved in a romantic way” 
“That’s nonsense they would be lucky to have such a beautiful, nice and smart woman like you” 
“At least you think that…”
“I know that you will have someone believe me I don’t lie” 
“Ok you witch, let’s go pick your outfit” 
Believe it or not, Theo wasn’t lying, it obviously wasn’t as fast paced like he said, but she did have a not so secret admirer, who kept apologizing with roses and sweets, if he was feeling different, daisies or other flowers were sent. Ruby and her had no choice but to give them away to the nice old ladies shopping, she never threw away the notes or the first set of pink roses, it was her first gift that she had ever received from a boy and it felt nice. 
Other boys weren’t as generous like Erling, however she had no way to thank him, without invading his privacy that is until the last note that she received. A phone number and a simple ‘call me’ were written, and it was time to be brave, but who actually likes answering or calling people definitely not her, but she needed to be appreciative. So after work ended that Thursday night she called him and from there a new adventure began. 
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The phone kept ringing and through every ring, her stomach twisted. She had no clue why she was so nervous, maybe he was busy, maybe he lied, maybe…
“Hello?”
“Hi” 
“You actually called” 
“Yeah I had to say thank you for everything, they were all so beautiful and the chocolates were amazing” 
“I’m glad you liked them, I guess I was nervous that I didn’t hear from you” 
“How was I meant to contact you silly, I didn’t want to invade your privacy” 
“You wouldn’t at all, but now I know how to reach you”
“I was getting nervous that you wouldn’t answer” 
“ I would never, I was pacing back and forth wishing  you would call, I grew brave and I sent you my number” 
“Well I’m glad you did” 
“Yeah?” 
“ of course, you are very sweet Erling” 
“I want to see you again, when can I see you?”
“I’d love that, but the question is, when can I see you?”
“I’m busy for the next few days, maybe Wednesday or Thursday?”
“Thursday sounds perfect to me?”
“Great than I’ll see you then can’t wait, thanks for calling”
“Thanks for answering, bye” 
She might actually be the one, he doesn’t know why, but she was different, he was more mature now and ready for a more stable relationship, he wouldn’t let anything or anyone get in the way like his last one, especially not him. A lack of communication and time from him, ended his long-term relationship and although he loved her, he had to let her go so she could be happy with someone else, she was fed up, she tried so much, but yet he wanted to succeed eventually forgetting all about her, however he was more stable now and ready for a new relationship, and it had to be with the girl who called. 
That whole week he went and scored goals and left; he was trying to rush every training session, every meeting, every match just so he could see that beautiful smile. While she was anxious, she had this weird feeling that was never present before, she was probably tired of the same routine she felt vacant up until that point when she actually met the real Erling. That Thursday evening, he fell in love while she waited to be swept off her feet. 
However after that call he kept calling her, wanting to know everything about her day, while his days consisted of more action and entertainment, he never made her feel like her days weren’t important. So here she was that Thursday evening not knowing what to wear while Theo was not helping.
“I always help you”
“Amor you have no clue where he is taking you, call him and ask him”
“I don’t want to sound desperate”
“When a boy asks you out on a date, you ask for the setting”
“I know but it slipped my mind” 
“Call him” 
So here she was again feeling nervous and even more so now that she had Theo next to her. It kept ringing until he finally answered. 
“Hello Vennen” (darling) 
“Hi E”
“What’s wrong?” He was afraid that something bad happened and she wouldn’t be able to make it.
“It’s nothing bad I promise, I just don’t know what to wear, since you haven’t told me where we’re going to” She heard the huge sigh of relief, she clearly scared him. 
“Just wear something casual and comfortable” 
“Ok perfect, I’ll see you soon” 
“See you soon” 
So Theo got to work, finding a cute enough outfit, but she wasn’t into fashion. Theo's clothes were in her closet as well because he ran out of space, so she really was struggling even for a comfortable outfit.
“You have nothing amor, maybe you could wear something of mine”
“You have designer stuff Theo I don’t want to be flashy” 
“Have you seen what your new boyfriend wears, it’s just designer stuff, with no actual style”
“He’s not my boyfriend, and I’m sure that he has a stylist, and I have you”
“Well he better pay me, because I would not be dressing him like that, he has too much potential”
“Stop making fun of him, maybe he will surprise you”
“Yeah probably will give me a heart attack” 
“Ok just pick something for me” 
She ended up wearing the most basic outfit, but she didn’t care, sure she wanted to impress, but that wasn’t her, she liked being comfortable, with cute dresses, shirts, and jeans, nothing else. Waiting on the sofa for him to arrive, she suddenly grew even more nervous, what would they talk about? Would he find her boring, sure they spoke a lot on the phone, but what if their conversation ended there. 
All her worries disappeared the moment that Erling knocked on her door, she shouldn’t feel nervous, he was different. There he was in a very casual outfit that she believed Theo would wear, nothing too flashy but stylish enough, and with flowers for her, now her favorite which were daisies.
“Hello vennen, you look beautiful” 
“Thank you, you also look beautiful” she knew that he would get flustered through the phone, but it was better to witness in person, because he would get as red as a tomato.
“You’re making me blush huh?”
“Yup but you still look cute, come on in, my roommate is in here, I’m sorry in advance” 
“Why would you be sor…”
“Oh my, his hair is nicer in person, what conditioner do you use? Wow, also taller in person…”
“Theo stop, Erling this is Theo my friend and roommate”
“Hi it’s nice to meet you Theo, and honestly just generic products” 
“Well both of you enjoy your date, I’ll take care of the flowers for you, but before that let me take a picture of both of you, because it’s her first date since I’ve met her, I feel like a proud dad…” 
“Theo you’re embarrassing me…” however he didn’t care and he still took the damn picture, both of them blushing, but to this day she was forever thankful of that picture, because it was their favorite, they looked happy, embarrassed, excited, and hopeful for a new love. 
“So where are you taking me?”
“It’s a surprise, I’m sorry but I wanted a more private date, I don’t want to throw you in a crazy situation, I want you to be comfortable and I want you to decide if you want that”
“Thanks for being so considerate, I’m willing to do whatever it takes ok, don’t worry about me” 
“But still vennen I don’t want you to regret ever getting uncomfortable or involved with me” 
“Hey I agreed to this, I’m excited, so let’s go” 
They made it to this animal sanctuary, she loved animals always saying random facts about them, growing up with documentaries really teaches you about the world around you, and that is something that she had in common with Erling, he loved the farm life. 
“Ok I know how you said, that you loved animals, so this is a sanctuary for endangered animals or for the ones that were mistreated or are too weak to live in freedom, they’re not held captive, they are released, but they need to bring them to good health, this is also a farm so we can do that also, I love animals and you do too, so we can be volunteers, I don’t know if this is a good date but…” 
“I love it, we seem to be the only ones here, so we have this whole place to ourselves, with cute animals, don’t overthink, I bet that we will have a great time here” 
“I’m sorry, but I’m so nervous, I haven’t done this in a long time”
“Hey you heard Theo, it’s been ages since my last date, we shouldn’t feel overwhelmed if we’re in the same situation, now let’s have fun” 
“Why do you always know what to say, you always calm me down even through the phone”
“Hey i'm here for that ok, now lets have fun and get to know each other even more.”
So here they were laughing about childhood stories, while milking a cow, only two crazy people would find happiness doing that, but she knew that they weren’t normal, he was a genius with football and health, and she was just a bit disoriented needing excitement to live a fulfilling life. 
She saw something in him, maybe that he actually paid attention to her, but that wasn’t it. He was intense but also gentle, his hugs were beautiful embraces, like he was meant to hug you, feet never touching the ground, it was as if you were floating. Does he feel the same when he hugs me? That’s what she always asked herself, but he felt even more than that, he had this instinct to protect and defend the people that he loved and he certainly loved her. 
They were resting on a picnic table, the sun had just begun to set, it brought a different shine to his face. The one that she could see clearly now that they were at eye level. She felt the need to kiss him to see how they would melt against each other, but it wasn’t the time and she knew that. 
“Do I have a bug on my face?”
“No you just look different” 
“What do you mean?”
“You look calm, like at peace” 
“It’s nice to be away from all the eyes, and the constant noise and judgments, you will never judge me right?”
“I did it once but never again, I thought that you were arrogant and you’re the opposite of that, you’re also a risk taker, who doesn’t care about competition or jealousy you thrive in your own way” 
“You really understand me, I hate the comparisons and the constant negativity from people, yes I’m good because I’m confident, but I also fall under pressure yet only you are able to see it” 
“I'm sure others do, I saw a lot of your highlights throughout your career, always selfless, the opportunities are always there for you, yet you never show off, because you know that anyone can make mistakes and you’re also prone to them, I admire what you do”
“I admire the talent that you have to make people smile and feel better, you’re truly a little ray of sunshine that has brought warmth to the cold Manchester air, you might be the air that I need to breath” 
“That’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever told me, I’ve always been someone that is there to give but never receive…”
“Well I’ll give you anything that you’ll ask of me, anything” 
“How about if you kiss me, will you give me that?” 
He didn’t give her any time to process her thoughts because his plush lips were on hers, savoring how it felt to touch them, at first they were afraid to touch but very slowly with such gentleness he grabbed the back of her neck to bring her closer, as she used his shoulders as support from the breathtaking warmth of his lips. Such a calculated yet dominant kiss. That eventually they had to separate to catch a glimpse of the after kiss glow. He left her dizzy, so much so that she found herself wrapped in his arms, with constant kisses on her head from him. 
Their night ended with a vegan meal, and another kiss at the front of her home. Of course they wanted the day to continue but they had to go slow, she was falling for him while she was already deep in the trenches of his heart. 
As she opened the door, it was like a scene from a movie, twirling around in her own little bubble of love until it had to burst due to Theo’s sudden shriek of horror. 
“Jesus Louca, you smell like pigs and cows, where did he take you?”
“To a farm it was magical T, so magical” 
“Well I’m glad that you think so, immediately take a shower and put those clothes to wash, why are your lips so red?”
“Don’t make me say why Theo, he’s even perfect at that”
“Ok shower now, I’m glad that a little make out session is making you feel this way but you are going to make this whole place smell, so go now”
That’s how her night ended but she still felt his lips on her, gently bringing the tip of her fingers up to her lips to mimic the sensation of him. While Erling was doing the same thing as her, he wanted to fulfill his dream of the farm life with her, in no time his football career would end and he needed her perfection to make it happen. Did she feel the same way as him? The answer to that question is yes. 
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For two more months he kept surprising her, he was no longer the grumpy person that dropped his wallet, he was now her boyfriend, officially he was, yet he was a bit of a coward to say the three little words. He knew that if he said them they would impact them in a different way, and what if she said thank you. Now that is something that you will never want to hear after a confession like that, however that did not occur. 
They were watching a documentary when it slipped from his lips, a little sigh of pure happiness after she was laying on his side, made him say those three words. He quickly freaked out sitting up, but she quickly climbed on him, grabbing his face, she saw his shocked look.
“What did you say? Did I hear you correctly?”
“I love you, vennen” but he avoided eye contact, what did he think she was going to say? Of course she felt the same way, did she not show it?
“Hey, look at me and say those words again” and slowly his light eyes that were now darkened by fear, made contact with her doe eyes, the ones that were desperately searching for dishonesty yet she never found it, he was just losing himself in her eyes, completely in love, and unaware that his eyes don’t deceive him, they don’t lie for him.
“I love you so much vennen, you mean everything to me” 
“I love you too baby, don’t doubt me ok, I fell in love the second that you kissed me underneath the sunset”
“Yeah? Well I fell in love the moment I found you after searching for you all over the shopping center, you were beautiful and so sassy, perfect for me”
“Well I’m glad that you found me, because look at us now, so in love” 
With a bunch of pecks all over her face she knew that she found the one, yes it took her a while to find him but it all happened so suddenly, she knew that he was in love before her, Theo never lied, while she was more closed off about her feelings until she couldn’t hide them anymore, while he showed them completely. Who knew that such an intimidating person could be the sweetest person alive. 
In a way he needed to thank his dad, after probably the worst scolding he ever faced, his dad forced him to find the nice girl and apologize, the letter she wrote him made him feel horrible, how was she able to write rude words so nicely. Finding her was tough because the guilt was overwhelming, consuming his thoughts, but when he found her, he saw a literal angel. 
He didn’t think he was capable of being loved and in such a short amount of time, especially to someone that appreciates what he does and who he is. For many months she was seen with him, but in a way no one cared, he was older now and they knew that he needed to settle down and focus on something that wasn’t his career. She was more than perfect for him, she felt comfortable and loved. 
The day he searched for her, he found someone so enchanting, someone that could make him blush so easily, who he can start playful conversations with, who shares a lot of his interests, and someone who finally knows the real him. 
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a/n: Another great request done, I liked this new challenge, to be fair a long time ago, I had a dream that I dropped my wallet, and a tall blonde dude chased me to give it back, so this was inspired by that, by only a bit.- Thanks for reading, and whoever requested this I hope you liked it (I know that it took me a bit longer sorry)- Lots of love Nat 🤍
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Request: (This is the request Masterlist)
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Tag-List: @xjval / @justme-espcaping / @alexisquinnlee-bc / @trentskinator98
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bitimdrake · 1 year
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pssssst hey quick question on the dl - who is helena bartinelli??
i cannot answer anon questions on the dl, so answer on the up-high, which she deserves:
HUNTRESS
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a.k.a. Helena Bertinelli, a.k.a. Gotham's coolest and most notable antihero, crossbow-wielder, and purple bat-associated vigilante.
Helena was born to an Italian mob family, but spent her childhood blissfully unaware of the family business--until her entire family was slaughtered in front of her when she was eight. She stayed with family overseas for the rest of her childhood, learning how to fight and protect herself.
She came back to Gotham for both vengeance and justice, and became one of Gotham's many vigilantes. Though her focus is on the mob, she'll step in to stop any crime.
She's also a schoolteacher! Good for her.
She is discerning in who she chooses to kill, but she does kill. As you can imagine, this put her at odds with Batman for a long time. Helena is pretty much the premiere example of Bruce trying to claim control over every vigilante in Gotham, no matter how little right he has. The argument on killing/ethics is valid, but his default was basically "do exactly what I say and fall in line under my command, or stop completely," which is why he's an asshole control freak and why I'm constantly mad about how she was treated 👍
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She was an absolute mainstay of the Batfamily before Flashpoint (2011) and it is personally hurtful to me that people don't know her. (Like, to be frank? She had far more of a presence than Damian or (living) Jason in the post-crisis era.)
You could count on seeing her in any major Batfamily crossover, from Cataclysm to Battle for the Cowl.
She was central to the biggest Batfamily crossover ever, No Man's Land, where Gotham was locked off from the rest of the country and turned into a lawless wasteland. Bruce left to sulk for the first couple of months and in absence of any other vigilantes in the field (only Oracle having remained in the city), Helena donned the mantle of the Bat for herself to protect the city. And when Batman came back, in return for all she'd done, she got...yelled at, assigned impossible tasks and criticized for not achieving them, her costume stolen and given to someone else, lied to, abandoned in the face of impossible odds, and shot multiple times protecting kids. Absolute fucking hero, honestly.
She also was on the Justice League for a while, though admittedly I have barely touched that run. To my understanding, despite nominating her for the position, Bruce was also the one to revoke her membership there.
Fortunately! things improved!!
In the early/mid 2000s, Helena joined the Birds of Prey, Oracle's team, and found legit friendships and support there with teammates like Dinah Lance/Black Canary. She finally got more respect in the community, and had a much better time.
Additional relationships include:
A big sister/annoying little brother type thing with Tim, who may disapprove of her killing but simply likes making friends too much :)
A great relationship with Vic Sage/the Question
One single issue where she met Steph that presented SUCH interesting potential that I desperately wish had been followed up on
On and off romantic/sexual tension with Dick, depending on the writer, which culminated in a single hook up that apparently most people around here would rather pretend didn't happen, though I really don't think it's that bad
A complicated relationship with Barbara, partially due to clashing personalities and conflicting morals (with Babs being nearly as much of a control freak as Bruce), and partially due to a shared history with Dick because DC loves making women be catty
Surely others from her first solo or time on the JLA that I don't know well enough to list!
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She's rad and determined and takes no shit but cares a lot, and I love her. We deserve more stories tying her teaching day job into her night work. We also deserve more stories with her in general.
If you would like additional Helena beyond just cruising my tag, I recommend:
Batman/Huntress: Cry for Blood - far more Huntress than Batman, this is a great 6-issue miniseries about Helena reckoning with her past, ft the Question.
Batman: No Man's Land - if you have the time for it, a big storyline but worth it.
Birds of Prey vol 1 (1999) - Helena starts to appear around issue #57 and becomes a central character from there.
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