#what happens when kids have kids. I’ve moved on from being angry at him for the most part

[tvslashers]

my dad gave me a journal for Xmas and i just opened it to use it for the first time and he left a lettter in it ;_; i obv won’t say all the details (very personal) but the part that got me most was he said “im proud of your strength to accept who you are” like whoaaa oh my god

#people don’t say it often but yeah it does take a lot of strength to be yourself unapologetically… #the acknowledgement of it from my own dad though… #sometimes i feel like he could never have a clue the pain i go through and have gone through being trans/gay/disabled #but this is proof he pays attention and #sees it not as me being sensitive when hateful people get to me but seeing me as strong for existing anyway #my dad has messed up a lot of things in my life but im so grateful that he’s getting better and i know he loves me #even if he wasn’t a good dad for most of my childhood #what happens when kids have kids. I’ve moved on from being angry at him for the most part

[imtryingbuck]

Pebbles

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Summary: you tell Nat something (great at summaries I know)

Word count: 842

Warnings: angst with fluff. mentions of cheating (readers ex) Nat being in love with reader. pregnancy. protective avengers. heavy use of pet names 

Translation: любит - loves (if wrong let me know please)

Masterlist

Running all the way to Nat’s room, managing to slip past everyone who tries to get a hold of you, concern filling their eyes.

All you need is Nat. Nat will make everything better, you was sure of it.

Knocking on the door to her room you bounce on your heels for her to hurry up and answer.

You was about to knock again when her door answered.

“Y-Y/n, what’s happened? Come here”

“I need to tell you something”

“Anything baby you know this”. She says as she moves the hair away from your face.

 "I know I could trust you so I came here." You say with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Sweetheart you can, please finish what you were saying”. Nat’s heart breaks at the sight of your tears, wishing she could stop them from falling.

“Adam’s-“ Nat’s jaw clenched at the name of your ex who stupidly let go of the best thing he was ever going to have in his worthless life “new girlfriend messaged me saying that her and him were sleeping together for two months before I walked in on them, an-and she said its my fault that they keep arguing. Natty I’ve n-not done anythi-anything wr-wr-wr-“

“Baby breathe, oh Y/n breathe with me” Even with her green eyes focused on your trembling body she could see your twos friends at the door. She could feel the anger coming from them.

They’ve known you for as long as they’ve known Pepper, her being your auntie who’s raised you since you were a kid, introduced you to everyone. Straight away after Nat met you she had a crush and everyone knew it, even Pepper. She was devastated when she found out you had a boyfriend. 

“I-I’m so-sorry Natty”

“No printsessa don’t apologise, its not your fault”

“Sh-she said he knows about Pebbles b-but Natty she called Pebble a bast-“

“It’s okay baby, it’s going to be alri-“

“What if he tries to take Pebble away from us?”

She smirked, silently daring him to take their Pebbles away from them. Just so she could finally do what she promised you she wouldn’t do.

Natasha had found you crying in your room that Tony had given you for whenever you wanted to stay at the tower. You told her that you had walked in on Adam having sex with a woman in your bed, and then you dropped another bomb on her. You was pregnant. You had found out a week before, you hadn’t gotten around to tell him as you was still working on the gift you was going to give him.

Angry Nat scared a lot of people, Nat on a war path? terrified everyone including the Avengers.

Her heart and mind were at loggerheads with what you had just told her. Her heart told her hold you tight and reassure you everything was going to be okay. Her mind went straight to murder.

Reluctantly she listened to her heart, holding you long after you pasted out. Whispering promises that she’ll help you raise the baby.

It had been two months since she gained the courage to ask you out, and as the weeks go by during your pregnancy she reminds you that she’s here and she’s never leaving her любит. 

Everyone closest to you didn’t bat an eye or care that she was willing to help you raise a baby that wasn’t biologically hers because to them Pebbles - the name given by Morgan - was Natasha’s, no matter what.

And if your ex wanted to try and take the baby it would be the most dumbest thing he would ever do. They will protect their family at all cost.

“He’s not going to angel I promise!” Nat says as she holds you tighter.

“He’ll have to get through all of us first sweet girl” Tony says as he comes in to the room, followed by the rest.

“When did she send you the messages Y/n/n?” Wanda questions.

Pulling away from Nat you looked down at your small bump “two weeks ago-I’m so sorry Natty”

“It’s okay, but why didn’t you tell me love?”

“I thought I could handle it myself, i didn’t reply to anything she said thinking she would just leave me alone but she won’t” You rub your eyes with the back of your hand, causing Nat to pull your hand away.

“You’re so tired aren’t you?” She watches as you nod, yawing at the same time “come, let’s get you into bed okay baby?”

“B-but his girlf-“

“I’ll deal with it, I promise. Now please sleep. I love you”.

“I love you too Natty” you mumble and as soon as your head hits the pillow, you’re in dreamland.

Nat kept her promise by dealing with your exes girlfriend, no more messages were sent to you and Adam didn’t try and take Pebbles away.

Giving birth to a healthy baby girl, Nat continued to keep her promise by sticking by you.

Alisa Pebbles Romanoff was truly spoilt by both of her mamas.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #nat romanoff #Nat Romanoff x you #the avengers #natasha romonova #avengers x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #avengers x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #nat x reader #nat x you #natasha x you

[pepsiconcoction]

oh remembwr when changbin said when he angry all it takes is physical touch or any act of affection for him to turn into putty and how he said hannie instead of being th wfirat to apologise or something just waits with open arms and breaks down when the other person comes to him first WELL IMAGINE A FIC THAT INCORPORATES EITHER OF THESE WITH A LITTLE ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING WITH READER🫢

thank u anon, i will also do the jisung one, so keep an eye out!

Lion Tamer | Seo Changbin x Reader

pairing: seo changbin x fem!reader

tags: angst, miscommunication? a little suggestive at the end, like one swear word, good ending dw, other member makes an appearance

requested: yes!

wc: 1,130

Changbin is known for his short temper, that’s just a fact. He’s easily antagonised, resulting in some hilarious, unexpected, or very occasionally scary outbursts. He is quick to jump up or shout, and hard to calm down. Not many people have mastered the art of lion taming, but you? You’ve somehow perfected it. It wasn’t a conscious thing you did, but it seems you have some unseen power over him.

Your power was discovered by chance in the JYP dance studio. You had been invited along by your wonderful boyfriend who clearly just wanted to show off, knowing this you agreed anyway. You’d be a hypocrite not to indulge him a little bit, right?

During a 5-minute water break, a conversation had started up about shoes. Particularly, platforms. Now, everyone knows that Stray Kids aren’t exactly the tallest, your boyfriend being the shortest of them all, so you could already feel him become tense from his place next to you on the leather sofa. 

“I don’t like them, they make me feel like my proportions are wrong,” Minho says from his place on the floor, flat on his back, limbs spread.

“I like them, our team needs them.” Felix contributes, resulting in a few laughs.

“Changbin maybe, I’d say the rest of us are fine.” Minho raises his head, smirking at Changbin.

“Hey! You’re not that much taller!”

“Yeah? Stand up.” Minho doesn’t move. Changbin takes the challenge, sputtering, and stands up. He goes to walk towards Minho who is still starfished, but you grab his hand.

“Sit down, Bin.” You chuckle. He stops in his tracks and plops down next to you immediately, holding your hand properly.

“Did you see that?” Hyunjin says, throwing his head back laughing.

“Yeah,” Jeongin speaks up. “Y/n has some serious powers.”

This results in some laughter around the room while Changbin looks at you, eyes creased with an open grin.

“How am I supposed to say no?” He chuckles, and takes your hand in both of his, squeezing it gently.

Your powers also work in more serious instances. Like the time Changbin thought you were cheating on him, accosting you the moment he got home from the studio.

“Y/n, you have some explaining to do,” he said, entering your shared living room where you had been sitting, peacefully reading.

“What?” you blinked up at him.

“Don’t play with me, I’m not stupid.”

“Bin, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t, of course, you don’t.” He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. If you weren’t so confused, you’d be ogling his arms in the tight black t-shirt he’s wearing.

“I really don’t. Can you tell me what I’ve apparently done?” You put your phone down next to you on the sofa.

“You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should’ve just said something.” That shocked you into closing your mouth. 

“If you wanted to see other people, I wouldn’t stop you. Well, I would, I’d definitely try but if you really wanted to break up I couldn’t stop you. I’d be pissed though because I love you so much and I thought our relationship was practically perfect. And we’re usually so good at communicating so I’m upset that you couldn’t just tell me what’s wrong, or what happened for you to have a change of heart. But seriously, a fucking soft launch on your insta? That’s just shitty.”

Soft launch? Insta? Oh.

You stand up, keeping a relaxed posture and facial expression.

“So are you going to leave? Because if you are, I want my hoodies back, especially the navy one, it’s my favourite one.” He’s slowly getting louder.

Honestly, he’s kind of cute when he’s ranting. You stifle a laugh, taking a step into his space.

“Oh, so you’re laughing at me now? Oh, yes! Let’s laugh at Changbin! Ha! Ha! Ha! So fun-” 

You cut him off by grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him in for a kiss. His mouth doesn’t really react but his hands do instinctively come to your sides. 

“Sorry, I had to get you to shut up.” You pull back, meeting a very emotionally conflicted Changbin.

“Bin. First of all, I’m not leaving you. Second of all, I didn’t soft launch. That was my cousin. He joined me and my aunt for lunch because he is in town at the minute. And lastly, you are so cute when you’re jealous.”

You get a front-row seat to the cogs turning in his head. You watch as his eyes widen and his face flushes a bright shade of red. You throw your head back laughing, still holding the sides of his head. The hands holding you have tightened their grip now, and he’s ducking his head down to hide in your neck.

“I am so sorry. I should be ashamed. Actually.” He cuts himself off and falls to his knees in front of you, arms unwrapping from around you to clasp them together as if he were praying.

“Please forgive me, I’m so sorry. A thousand times over. Hey, stop laughing, I’m trying to apologise. I should never have assumed anything,” he says. You catch your breath and look down at him, instantly bringing a hand to run through his hair. His hands return to you, pulling you into him, and he buries his face in your stomach, mumbling more apologies.

“Changbin, please, look at me.” You use your leverage on his hair to force him to look up. He looks up at you with big eyes.

“Get up.” You giggle. He immediately stands. 

“It’s okay, I can understand why you thought that, but you are also super dumb for even thinking that I’d do that in the first place. Why would I ever leave you?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, shrugging.

“Exactly, I have no intention to ever leave my wonderful, adorable, handsome-”

“Sexy.”

“Uh-huh, sexy, smart, kind, and sometimes jealous boyfriend.” You smile up at him, putting your hands on his shoulders. He ducks his head into your neck once more.

“I really am sorry, you know.” 

“I know you are.” 

You feel his arms tighten around you in a strong hug and the two of you stay there for a few seconds as he sways the two of you gently.

“Okay, grovelling over,” he says suddenly standing up straight, dazing you slightly. He suddenly grabs you, easily throwing you over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” You nearly shout as he begins to move.

“Making it up to my wonderful, understanding, sexy girlfriend! Unless she has any complaints with the proposition?” he replies, and that’s when you realise you’re headed in the direction of the bedroom, and you throw your head back laughing again.

“No complaints here!”

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!) : @lethallyprotected

#skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids x you #skz fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin #seo changbin drabbles #seo changbin fluff #seo changbin smut #changbin #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz smau #lee minho #hwang hyunjin #lee felix #straykids #yang jeongin #stray kids fic #stray kids x y/n

[kjdkive]

it's always been you.

pairing: jungkook x reader (afab)

genre: slowburn, brother’s best friend

warnings: cursing, jungkook being so boyfie

summary: when you get stuck on a date with a total asshole and you need someone to pick you up who else are you gonna call in a new city where you only know your brother and his best friend.

a/n: if you actually like it, tell me if you want a part two cause im honestly thinking about writing one. and if you are gonna read it, you can tell me and i’ll put you in the tag list <3 and also you can always send me an ask if you have any idea for me to write. and also i got this from a “someone write this” tiktok but decided to put more of my stuff in it. if i find the user i’ll let you know

i hate men, i really do. i’ve been single for a while, for the same reason. don't get me wrong, men are really hot and sometimes smart, it's just my bad experiences with men that aren't helping. i moved to a new city for an internship and talking to my friends back home they convinced me to “put myself out there” that maybe “i’d find the one” as if i had time.

now that i think about it, i was so stupid for listening to them because now i’m here, stuck on a date with a total asshole i found on tinder. it was good at first, not gonna lie. i swiped right, we matched, he made sure to compliment me: call me pretty, beautiful, majestic even and we even had actual conversations. so i said “why not? what’s the worst thing that could happen?” 

the date was going well... until it wasn’t. we were talking about what we wanted to do with our futures which is a total important question on a first date. 

“i don’t know, i feel like if i get married i wouldn’t let my wife work, she has to take care of my kids, be grateful that i put food on her table and take care of me.” jisung, my date, said while trying to grab some pasta from his plate. 

i was shocked, i thought he wasn’t gonna be like that. “what do you mean? your wife is not your mother to take care of you and kids are a two-person job.” i told him. 

“oh god, don’t tell me that i just made angry your feminist heart.” he laughed “it’s true, though, what i’m saying. are you finished? let’s go back to my place.” 

“i’m not finished actually, and back to your place?” i asked him. 

“yeah, well, i paid for your food so the least you can do is go back to my place.” 

oh, dear god. what have i gotten myself into? but i really was not in the mood to get in a fight with a man that won't understand why what he's saying is totally wrong.

“uhm, i’d like to ask for dessert.”  i told him. 

 “but you'll have to finish it fast, i wanna go already.” he rolled his eyes. 

i ordered a chocolate cake just to make time while i excused myself to the bathroom and called my brother for help. “why are men always like this?” i ask myself while dialing my brother’s number. it's either they’re mysoginists or they’re cheaters. last time i got a cheater now i got a mysoginist. wow me. 

one ring, two rings, three, four, five… nothing. damn it. i call again, begging the universe for him to pick up the phone and come get me because i was scared to leave alone, i mean i am new in this city, i don't know the bad neighbourhoods and i am not too familiar with the public transportation here. also, this horrible guy was gonna be my ride back home but my brother doesn’t pick up and now i’m doomed.  

“fuck you, taehyung, wherever you are.” 

the only other person i knew in town was my brother’s best friend, who’s probably with him so i should call him because yeah that seems reasonable, right? but what if i bother him? what if he’s not with my brother and i called him for nothing? 

"hello?" i hear a voice from the phone. apparently, i'm so stupid i dialed accidentally.

"hi, jungkook, how are you? it's y/n."

"hey, are you okay? is everything alright?" he asked, sounding more aware, more awake.

"uhm, yeah, just... i went on a date with this guy but he turned out to be an asshole and he was supposed to be my ride back home so i was gonna ask you if taehyung was there with you so he can come pick me up."

"text me the adress and don't move from wherever you are."

"jungkook, don't—" and the sound of him hanging up made me not finish my sentence.

i text him the adress and put my phone back in my purse again, wash my hands and go back to the table where i see jisung on his phone and a piece of chocolate cake in front of him. i sit down and start eating it, really slowly, trying to make time until jungkook come get me.

"can't you be faster? i told you i wanna leave." jisung asked me.

"well, you know already i am a slow eater."

as i am biting the cake i hear a voice behind me.

"let's go now."

i turned around and it's him, jungkook. his outift was not helping, or his voice, or his tattoos, or his piercings, or his hair for how handsome he looked right now. it had been a while since i had seen him, he had less tattoos and longer hair.

"y/n, what the fuck?" jisung asks angrily as we both stand up.

but as i am standing up and getting near jungkook, jisung tried to grab me from the arm. "do not fucking touch her, you hear me?" jungkook told him, while grabbing me from both arms gently and getting me to stand behind him. and jisung sat down, defeated, not giving it enough importance to make this a problem.

jungkook took my hand and also took me out of the place, making us both walk to his bike in the parking lot.

"jungkook, thank you and i'm so sorry for that, i just didn't know who else to call, i know no one here."

"you don't have to apologize and neither thank me, it's alright." he said, giving me a sweet smile as he put a helmet on my head.

"thank you."

"what did i just say?"

i laugh. "you're right. okay but..." i see him already sat on his bike "can you not go so fast, it's my first time getting on one of these and i'm kinda scared, not gonna lie." i ask him while sitting behind him, putting my hands around his waist.

"just enjoy the ride, doll, nothing to worry about."

he doesn't give me time to respond because he's already putting his foot on the gas (if that's what you say about bikes, because i have no clue how these ones work) and i'm already cursing him out.

i feel the air hitting the little part of my face the helmet is not hiding, and i let myself rest on jungkook, hugging him tight, resting my head on his back and feeling safe. well, now this wasn't so bad. we stopped at a red light and i felt his hands caressing my legs. it felt good, really good. i couldn't lie how much i was enjoying this, how much i didn't want this moment to be over.

"would it be so crazy if i ask you to go faster?" i ask him.

the light turns green and i feel the speed already. i let out a squeal as i hug jungkook even tighter. i felt so alive.

and then it was over.

he parked and we both got off the bike.

i try to take off my helmet and as soon as i do i feel a pair of hands over mine "you don't take it off like that, silly." jungkook giggles.

"my hair must be a mess." i said, as i try combing it with my hands.

"you're more than alright, y/n, don't worry." he tells me, while he also runs his hand through my hair giving me butterflies.

butterflies... what?

"well, thank you."

"you're more than welcome. but this is where i go back."

"don't you wanna come upstairs? have a drink or something with me. i haven't seen you in a year." that came out faster than expected and i don't know from where this courage is coming from. i'm not usally like this with jungkook, at the end he's not really my friend, he's my brother's.

he looks at his bike and then at me "uh, yeah, i'd love to."

"you got yourself a sweet appartment." jungkook tells me as soon as he enters and starts taking off his shoes.

"thanks, i got really lucky. you want some wine?"

"ew? you don't have beer?"

i grab him one and pour myself a glass of wine.

"god, i don't know why i went out with that guy, actually he seemed fine at first, you know?"

"and i could see from miles away that he was a dick, his posture, his vibe. i don't know how you didn't notice."

"well, i'm sorry, mr. vibes." i rolled my eyes, playing with him.

we get to talking, an actual really enjoyable conversation of what we were both doing here, how i was doing with my intership and him with his promotion on his corporate job at a really young age. we were both doing amazing, and we were having a really good time. and there was this feeling again, of not wanting it to be over. not once in our lives have we been alone, my brother was always there or just someone. we never got to do something alone even when we were younger and jungkook went to my house for dinner and my mom asked us to set the table so this was a new one. he also looked so handsome tonight, making those weird butterflies worse.

"i'm sorry, that was a really long story. but i've been wanting to thank you again for picking me up and saving me from that prick. i really needed that." i tell him while i get myself more comfortable on the couch. "i hope you weren't doing anything important and i interrupted you with my annoying problems."

"i was hanging out with some friends back at my place, actually." he says, while putting his head back on the couch, letting me see his neck and that little tattoo behind his ear.

"what? jungkook, oh my god, i'm so sorry i wouldn't have called you if i—"

jungkook laughs, standing up from the couch.

"are you going back to your place? god, i'm so sorry." i stand up with him.

"shut up." he laughs again.

"what? no, i mean it."

"shut up, y/n."

"what? why?"

"i did have some friends hanging out back at my place and yeah, i was busy." he starts, while walking slowly towards me "but that didn't matter as soon as you called me and told me you needed me. because whatever you need i'll run through heaven and hell to give it to you, walk the whole planet barefoot if you needed me to."

our faces are just milimiters apart from crashing into each other's.

"it's just because i'm your best friend's little sister." i tell him, almost whispering.

"no, it's you over your brother anytime." he grabs my face, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. "it's you, y/n, it has always been you."

i prepare myself for the kiss, a kiss that's going to change whatever dynamic we had for years. but there's no kiss, just a soft touch of his upper lip against mine.

"but we'll talk about it later, when you haven't come from a shit date."

he grabs his jacket and lets himself out of my appartment.

i want to say something back, tell him that leaving me like this it's unfair, but nothing comes out of my mouth, just my hand moving to my mouth trying to remember the lingering touch of him against me.

i was left there speechless.

#bts #bts fic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook fluff #jungkook #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts jungkook #bts imagines #bts idol au #jungkook fanfic #jungkook i love you seven days a week #bangtan

[mychemicalrachel]

Full disclosure, I have not seen the Teen Wolf movie and no I do not plan on it. I have caught a few things through the magic of tumblr and I had some thoughts. So if everything I saw is accurate; Derek has a kid Eli (basically a Stiles replacement since Dylan wasn’t in the movie. Also, nobody knows who his mother is?) and Derek dies, and he leaves his kid to Scott and Allison. Am I right so far? I’ve seen a few posts entertaining the idea of Stiles being Eli’s other dad, fix-its that have him resurrecting/saving Derek in some capacity. And so it got me thinking of my own version of how I would fix this dumpster fire and like,

What if Stiles was not Eli’s dad?

No no no, hear me out, okay?

Derek had Eli with some one night stand or whatever, it’s not important. She’s not in the picture but neither is Stiles. Stiles is just the one that got away, he’s the guy Derek has been pining over for the past fifteen years, and nothing more. Stiles finally got away from the supernatural shitshow and Derek is not going to be the one to drag him back into it just because he has feelings for him.

But Stiles is still the closest thing Derek has ever had to family and it makes sense for Derek to entrust his family with Stiles’ family. So what if he left Eli in the care of John? (hIS NAME IS JOHN, FIGHT ME ON THIS.) And John, he kind of adores the kid, right? Of course when Derek dies (because he does) John takes Eli in just as he promised he would.

But John is getting older. Eli is a handful because he is just like Stiles. John has to tell Stiles eventually what happened and he really could use some help trying to wrangle a grieving teenager, so he calls Stiles.

Stiles is FURIOUS when he finds out what happened. He hasn’t been in contact with Scott for years because he realized what a piece of shit Scott was, but the fact that Scott didn’t even call when everything was happening makes him angry. The fact that they let Derek die?? More than angry. Angry enough to kill somebody. But when he meets Eli, all that anger disappears. Eli, who is this weird mix of Derek and Stiles, who is mourning the loss of his only parent, his only family. He knows what it’s like to lose a parent, but even after his mom died, he always had his dad. Eli doesn’t have that so Stiles makes it his responsibility to become that figure for him. Not his dad because nobody could replace Derek, but a guardian.

He moves back to town, he bonds with Eli, and in his spare time he maybe starts to explore the possibilities of necromancy. Death in a place like Beacon Hills has never been permanent– Peter and now Allison are proof of that. He doesn’t tell anybody because he doesn’t actually plan on bringing Derek back, it’s just a thought that keeps him from falling apart entirely. During this time, he realizes not only his feelings for Derek, but Derek’s feelings for him. He wishes he could have just a few minutes with Derek, wishes he could go back in time and redo everything. Maybe he would have stayed in Beacon Hills, or he would have asked Derek to leave with him. And time travel, yeah that’s a possibility, too, but time is a fickle bitch and Stiles isn’t willing to gamble with it. What if he messes something up and erases Eli from existence?

In the end, bringing Derek back is kind of an accident.

Years have passed and Eli is healing, Stiles is healing– they even manage to fix the jeep together because symbolism. Stiles is going through some old journals or something of Deaton’s and he finds something that looks kind of promising (something about true love being the one thing more powerful than death or something equally as cheesy) and he’s reading it out loud and it just happens. No fanfare, no sparks, almost like it’s not magic at all. One second, Stiles is alone, and the next, Derek is there– older than the last time Stiles saw him, just as beautiful. There’s some panic because what the fuck, the last thing Derek remembers is the fire and being so sure he was going to die and thinking if only I could see Stiles one more time and now he’s here, standing in front of Stiles– also older than the last time Derek saw him, and just as beautiful. But after the panic, there’s some kissing and some crying and some long awaited love confessions, and by the time they go home, Stiles still isn’t sure exactly what happened, what he did, what the consequences might be, but he’s got his arm around Derek’s waist and the burn of Derek’s stubble on his lips and Derek is alive so nothing else fucking matters.

#teen wolf movie #teen wolf movie spoilers #teen wolf #sterek #i haven't written sterek in years #and yet here i am #derek hale #stiles stilinski #anti scott mccall #because i never liked him anyway #fix it #because i hear this movie needs a lot of fixing #eli hale #eli stilinski hale

[baoreal]

Valentino finds him crouched against the wall of the motorhome that they share with Honda on the other side, still seething with white hot rage after yelling at Márquez. Screaming at him had done nothing to get the anger out of his system, and then he’d heard Marc telling the press he wasn’t even going to bother discussing Marco’s outburst, and now he’s trying very hard to calm down before he goes to congratulate Pecco. His brother doesn’t deserve that kind of negativity, and right now, Marco wants to kill somebody.

Vale crouches in front of him, one of his big hands finding the curls on the back of Marco’s head. “Ben detto” he murmurs softly. “It’s not your fault, he clearly hasn’t changed at all.”

Marco scrapes his hands over his face, wincing at his nose. “He didn’t even react when I screamed at him. Just stared, and then told someone else to remove me from his motorhome.” His fists clench. “And then he says he’s not going to waste time discussing me! Figlio de puttana!”

Vale ruffles his hair. “I’ve been telling you, he’s a crazy motherfucker. He’ll never learn.”

“Hey!” A voice he doesn’t recognize rings out on the other side of the wall.

“Hey, man, ¿qué pasa?.” That one, he’d know anywhere.

“Classy move out there today, completely sidestepping the questions.” It’s not a driver. Someone from the Honda team, probably.

Márquez snorts. “Bezzecchi is what, 23?” He must be changing out of his leathers. They’ve clearly not realised that there’s someone left on the motorhome next door, because they’re making no effort to lower their voices to avoid being heard through the paper-thin walls.

“24, I think.” Says the other voice. He’s almost 25, actually. He rolls his eyes at Vale. What does it matter that he’s young? He has half a mind to go back in there and yell at him some more. Fuck him. Youth does not mean he’s not legitimate competition, or a good driver.

“Eh, still barely an adult.” Márquez again. “Everybody is a fucking idiot in their twenties, but I’m no longer in my twenties. I know how this circus works now, and what would happen if I said anything personal about him to the press. I don’t mind giving my opinion on what he’s done on the race, or what I think he’s done on the race, but anything beyond that is a no, even if he’s a dickhead.” He pauses. Then adds, softer. “Actually, I don’t think he’s a dickhead. He’s just young, and we have both heard everything he said today before, and we both know they’re not his words. I can’t fault the kid for following a god blindly, I used to do it too.”

The world tilts three degrees on its axis. Valentino’s face goes white as a sheet.

“Look at you. Is this what maturity looks like?”

Márquez’s laugh sounds bitter. “I already said it in my documentary, but I don’t wish what Valentino put me through at 22 on anybody. 22 is a stupid age. You think you’re immortal, but you also think you���ll die if you don’t win this championship. Or not die, but the team will drop you if you stop performing, which is just as bad. There’s always someone behind you waiting to get on your bike, if you can’t stay on it. Your body can recover from almost everything, but the press and the team are already counting down the seconds until it gives out. It's an environment where it’s almost impossible to make good decisions, especially in the middle of a race where you’re going 300km/h, your only thought is that you have to be 1st, and you have 2 milliseconds to see and react to anything.” Something opens on the other side of the wall.

“You must still be angry at him. Especially after everything you heard today.”

There’s no need to clarify who “him” is. It’s clearly not Marco.

Something closes. “I’m not even angry anymore, more like. Disappointed? Disappointed with Valentino, because he was supposed to be my friend but he thought badly enough of me to believe that I’d do all those things he accused me of. Didn’t even let me explain. But also disappointed in myself, because it really is the worst feeling when you are just being yourself and your idol, friend, favourite person” - Marco can’t look at Valentino - “in the world publicly says that makes you a danger for everyone and poison for the sport you have dedicated your life to. And suddenly everybody despises you. You don’t just shrug something like that off, no matter how hard I’ve tried to pretend I have.”

There’s a metallic thunk, like someone dropping a bag on a bench.

“I can only be myself. I’ve never learned to be any other way, and I will never play mind games. I want to keep winning until I physically can’t anymore, and then retire and be done with all of this.”

“Are you going to set up your own training academy?” Suggests the other man, timidly.

There’s a meaningful pause.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the documentary, but only two drivers came to see me before I got the surgery. A surgery that involved re-breaking my arm on several points and rotating the bone. There was a chance I might never come back to motogp, and most people didn’t care, not even my own teammate. And even younger drivers like Bezzecchi clearly believe everything that has been said of me, after all these years and after riding with me. I don’t think I will have any kind of legacy other than a number of championships and a bad reputation for my riding style. And a lot of scars and metal in my body. I don't think mentoring will ever be a possibility. I don’t think I want to teach anyone how to ride like me, when this is what it gets you.”

Marco can feel his own face drain of blood. There’s no emotion to Márquez's voice. He’s clearly thought this over plenty. It sounds practised, rehearsed, and utterly sincere.

“You still said very nice things about Rossi in a recent video, even after all of this.” 

“I told the truth.” Comes Márquez’s response. “They ask what I think about him as a driver, and that has never changed. He’s the best. Always the best.”

He sounds as certain as anything. The sky is blue, the sun is yellow, and Valentino Rossi is still the best ever MotoGP driver in Marc Márquez’s world.

Valentino’s face is doing something so raw that Marco feels filthy when he hazards a look. He averts his eyes again. 

“As I said, I’m not even mad. I would be happy if he decided to stop hating me one of these days. I still like Valentino. I think what he’s done with the academy is great, the way he’s basically adopted those kids. I try not to think much about him other than that.”

He sounds wistful, Marco realises, like part of him wishes he could have been one more of them at the ranch. Like part of him envies that they got that with Vale.

“Except when one of said kids goes to your motorhome to yell at you.”

Marc snorts again. “Hm, maybe he should have taught them better manners, that’s true. But he’s Valentino Rossi. We wouldn’t like him half as much if he had manners.” And with that, the voices finally fade, Márquez clearly done changing. And then it’s just him and Valentino, still crouched on the floor on the other side of the wall.

Valentino looks ill. Properly green, and Marco understands, because he’s feeling queasy himself when he thinks of everything he’d yelled at Marc only hours earlier, everything he has said about him loud enough for everyone to hear. 

Valentino has approximately eight years of that.

God help them both.

#I have been on my Rosquez feelings so I had to engineer a situation where Valentino has no choice but to confront his sins head on #and then grapple with the realization of how much irreparable damage he’s dealt Marc #marc/vale #rosquez #realistically would Marc ever bare himself like this? Absolutely not #but let’s pretend that Bezz yelling at him in Valencia caused a weak moment and the jagged edge was visible for a millisecond

[christinarowie332]

stupid fucking kid

part 2 of “stupid horny fucks”

chris sturniolo x reader .

angst .

warnings : language , talk of sex . angst . depictions of depressive episodes. regret .

not proof read cuz i don’t have time for that. 😀

———

it’s been a week . seven days of avoiding conversations with him , seven days of “oh sorry i’m busy” messages to nick when he asks to come over . i cant even think straight .

one week ago .

“he flops down next to me , his chest heaving and loose curls wet slightly around his neck with sweat .

“what the fuck just happened” i say looking over to him

he just stares at the ceiling .

what the fuck just happened .

“i’m gonna go-“ i try to continue but the sight of chris’s eyes closed and soft hums of sleep stop me .

my mind races with scenarios and past conversations. he doesn’t want a relationship. i don’t even know if i do . i just fucked my best-friend. how the fuck did that even happen . the same kid that i see allmost everyday , i’ve known him for years , what the fuck have i just done .

“chris i’m gonna go .” i whisper to his sleeping body , while getting out of bed and grabbing the sweatpants and tank top from the floor , and leaving the room . as i walk downstairs my vision gets blurry as regret and guilt sets in . i can hear nick and matt ask questions but before i know it i’m in my car and speeding home .

what the fuck just happened.

now.

the ceiling seems to move as i stare into the white space, shadows curve and shift with stars before i blink them away and look towards the notification lighting up my dark room . i notice the time . 2.36 , jesus . not bothering to read the notification i silence my phone and turn over in my sheets . the cold kisses my face as my cheeks slide over my pillow , fingers numb at the temperature as i place them both under the cover and curl the duvet up to my neck . closing my eyes allows the thoughts to run wild , my estranged relationship with the triplets , the fact i haven’t left my house in days , my plants are wilted as i’ve neglected them. chris .

i open my eyes and see the mascara stained bedding from last night . grey droplets seeping into the fabric left marks . a physical reminder for everyone to see . well. that’s if anyone bothered to check on me . it’s not their fault , the moment matt called me to check if i was ok i changed the subject, called him stupid and laughed , deciding to let him talk instead of me . it worked the first two days , then the missed meetings rang alarm bells for nick , he showed up at my house , ringing the doorbell to which i ignored . i shouldn’t have done that . the thoughts that were once plaguing my head were cut off as i hear a car pull into my driveway . the sound of my dogs nails tapping into the wooden floor confirms it , she knows the sound of matt’s car .

as i reach the door i take a breath before opening it , gripping the handle for stability , nuckles whitening at the force . i’m met with shy blue eyes and stubble , his hair flowing around his hat and vivien westwood necklace swaying on his chest .

“hi”

his voice is hourse , it allmost sounds deeper, my lips twitch at his nervous tone but it never quite meets a smile as i know why he’s here . “hi chris.” my eyes focus on the car and i notice matt behind the wheel looking angry , probably at being dragged out the house , but his eyes soften when he meets my gaze . i shift out the way for chris to enter the house , it’s only now i realise the state im in and cover my body with my arms .

i close the door behind him and turn to look at him sheepishly. he looks nervous, his hands are in his pockets and he won’t meet my eye contact . i’m not sure if it’s embarrassment or anxiety but whatever it is , it’s not chris .

“look y/n i’m-“

“does matt know?” i cut him off unintentionally, something changes in his features. this is something he can answer . an easy thing to talk about . “no , i figured it’s up to you to tell him.” he answers confidently, like he’s doing me some fucking favour . quickly the pain turns into anger , and i feel adrenaline fill my chest , as much as i wish it was a different feeling i’m happy to feel something.

“what the fuck does that mean? u give me the job to tell him ? what are u too embarrassed to tell him?” i snap at him . i subconsciously curse myself , knowing this is not what i wanted to say . but this is easier then watching him walk away all together. this he’s good at , this he knows how to do . argue .

“what ? no of course not? y/n i just-“

“you just what ? too embarrassed to say we fucked and u ghosted me ?”

“ghosted you ? i didn’t fucking ghost you , you just left ? u literally fucked then dipped ? what am i supposed to do tell him hm?” he raises his voice , his calm demeanour slowly melting away . he takes a step towards me and i take a step back , my back hitting the radiator attached to wall and i wince at the pain . he notices and takes a step back again , taking a shakey breath in and bites the inside of his lip . “look y/n , im sorry okay ? i don’t know what i did or how to fix it but i’m sorry . i thought u wanted it as much as me but i’m sorry if you-“

“no chris i did, i thought i did , but i just don’t think it should have happened, i feel wierd . i cant believe i fucked you literally minutes after u meant to send a dick pic to another girl” i calm myself down now , matching his energy, my neighbors did not want to hear two teenagers shout about dickpics at 2 in the morning . “ i feel disgusting , u took my fucking virginity and-“

“what” he cuts me off confused , looking away in thought i watch as his shoulders relax and eyes glaze over for a second . “i’m so sorry i didn’t even know , i didn’t think , that picture was stupid , it was a mistake in itself i don’t even know that girl . she just looked like you so-“

what .

———

yikes y/n seriously needs some therapy

tag list:

@mangosrar @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @kvtie444 @kenzieiskoolaid @cabincorematt @urmyslxt @chrisenthusiast @mattsd0ll @iheart2021chris @recklesssturniolo @lovingsturniolo @loveesiren @paper-crab @lustfulslxt @daddyslilchickenfingers @strniohoeee @ermdontmindthisaccount @sturnphilia @bluesturniolo333 @lea0518 @chrisolivia4l @its-jennarose @freshlovehacker @kitaysworld @littlebookworm803 @liz-stxrn @rac00ns-are-c00l4

————

#chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #milkie is down bad #sturniolo #milkietalks #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo #snaps from christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo toxic #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo fanfic

[cowboyjen68]

Hi Jen, sorry for dumping a big rant in your askbox but your blog has helped me figure out my identity and I don’t have anyone to talk to about this in real life lol. Feel free to delete if this is too weird.

So I’m a 17 y/o butch, and I have been masculine since I was a little kid. I always felt lucky to have a family that was generally okay with my gender nonconformity. They treated it like a cute quirk of mine, and I never felt like I was being judged or that I should change the way I am around them. My dad got a kick out of it. One summer he let me help him build the deck in our backyard. He always took me to baseball games, he dressed me up in his old clothes, basically treated me like I was his son and I loved it.

I feel like as I get older, my masculinity becomes less acceptable. I went to visit my paternal grandmother for the holidays, hadn’t seen her in a few years, and the first thing she said to me was “I thought you would’ve grown out of all that by now” (in reference to my haircut and outfit, I think.) I just don’t know how to react to the way my extended family treats me now. They used to be totally fine with it, but I spent my entire Christmas feeling like I was being judged for every little thing.

Like, what’s changed? Why is it cute and funny when a little girl wears boy’s clothes and wrestles with her cousins, but disgusting when I grow up and settle into my masculinity?

It’s like I’ve crossed the invisible line between being a tomboy and being a dyke, and now no one wants to entertain it anymore.

Again, sorry for the rant haha, I just feel like I’m going crazy because I tried to talk to my sister about it and she said she didn’t notice them acting any different, but I swear my aunt spent half of our Christmas dinner telling me how pretty I would be if I just wore a bit of makeup lmaoo. I’m just wondering if anyone else has experienced this, because I’m feeling pretty lost right now. Thanks, and happy holidays!

It is not weird at all. I hear that young lesbians, particularly butches, do not have older role models to bounce ideas off of or vent or get any perspective on certain experiences. Moms and Dads and straight sisters and cousins, no matter how well meaning, will just not always "get" what is happening. They say things like "we love you no matter what" and "we don't care if you are a lesbian" and they mean it, mostly. But they often don't see the subtle clues (or blatant ones)they toss around that indicates how uncomfortable they are with you being so visible, but just existing as you naturally are.

AND OH MY GOSH yes I have experienced exactly what you are talking about with the deepening judgement as you move from a cute little Tomboy to an adult butch women. It is almost like they hope to "catch it early" when we are in our teens and redirect us away from the "danger" of being a visible lesbian. And a woman who does not, in very overt ways, conform to their idea of how a woman should be and act.

My dad was relatively consistent in treating me pretty much like he would a son and, to his credit, he did so with my straight sister. We were allowed to do just about anything my older brothers did. In part because my sister was pretty strong willed but also a lot like him. I was less strong willed but she had mowed the path.

Mom was the one who was forever concerned about my looks and behavior, both out of worry I would not fit in, and because she had a certain expectation of how her daughter should grow up. Both normal Mom reactions. She understood bullies and knew that sticking out could be difficult. Her solution was not to strengthen my resilience but to attempt to "tone me down". Her efforts increased as I made the jump from kid to teen and into my late teens. She would discourage me from cutting my hair, becoming almost angry when I brought it up. She would tell me how lovely I was in dresses and skirts and say thing like " a little make up would be nice". It got really old. It lead to us not always getting along even though I loved and respected my mom. She was a great mom. But this one thing made us both crazy. She could not cool it and I could not change who I was.

Friends at school saw hints of my liking girls. I stopped wearing cowboy boots and my favorite horse buckle and it their place went with K Mart Tennis shoes and a generic belt that came with my pants, again, from Kmart. I put away the cowboy fringed shirts and flannel and went with simple jeans and sweatshirts, the acceptable attire for boys and girls in my rural high school. I kept my hair long to disguise my "looking like a boy" traits.

I (barf) agreed to date a boy and spent the better part of that time making excuses to not kiss him or spent time with him. I was starting to listen to mom and do my best to hide ME from the world. Anything (with in reason) to throw the world off the scent, the scent of me being a lesbian. Being butch made that one more step difficult.

It is hard to hide the space we take up naturally.

It might seem hard to see it now by your family is slightly well intentioned, knowing that being "seen" easily as a lesbian can be dangerous. But also, they are uncomfortable with your energy and physical presence because it does not coincide with their ideas of what a woman acts, feels and moves like. This is a THEM problem and I can give you words of comfort based on experience.

The more you begin to be you, and dress in what gives you comfort the more your confidence will grow and be evident. People who are emboldened to try and change you for their own comfort tend to back way off when there is no opening for their opinions. They just sort of realize they are wasting time. AND for those that don't, there are always a few, you don't have to give them any air or acknowledgement. You get to let them waste time and energy while you look great in whatever you wish to wear and however you wish to cut your hair. And in a wonderful turn around, you don't have to spend any effort just being you or trying to defend or correct them.

You are fast approaching adulthood and with that will come even more freedom and independence. Don't rush it but also, work towards that.

#butch #lesbian #family #unwanted opinions of family

[sepublic]

            Looking back, a lot of us assumed the statues in Gravesfield depicting Caleb and Philip as adults was an example of in-universe historical inaccuracy, kind of like how Pocahontas is portrayed as an adult, when she was actually a child when everything happened. But in hindsight, I have to wonder if this adult depiction is even a discrepancy to begin with, and not a point of clarification for the timeline of events for these brothers?

         I think what contributed to the belief that Caleb and Philip were children when the former entered the isles forever is because of Belos’ memory portraits. But we know they don’t depict everything, such as how Philip arrived in the Boiling Isles; From a Doylist perspective, the writers want to leave in some ambiguity, some mystery, and there’s only room for so many memories in the background.

         But as we learn in Thanks to Them, Caleb and Evelyn communicated through hidden rebuses to meet up multiple times; So their interactions in the human world took place over time, and it wasn’t just an instant, one-off meeting and then Caleb disappeared, his brother in hot pursuit. Dana even clarified in a Post-Hoot that Evelyn initially presented herself as human to Caleb and the rest of Gravesfield, and revealed herself after Caleb earned her trust.

         Maybe this happened across one meeting, one day; But the likelihood is that Caleb and Evelyn interacted as ‘fellow humans’ a few times before the truth was revealed. And they continued to meet up, discreetly contacting one another with hidden rebuses for the other to find and decode.

         So if all this happened over an unspecified period of time, who’s to say it wasn’t across years? And that by the time Caleb made the decision to move to the Boiling Isles, it was when he and Philip were adults; In fact, he might’ve even waited until Philip was an adult who could take care of himself, before leaving him to live his own life!

         Likewise, there is a valid interpretation that Caleb hid the truth of Evelyn from Philip, and wasn’t aware he was watching when he went off to explore the Demon Realm a few times, before eventually making the permanent move. But I think the other interpretation works, too; That Caleb DOES know Philip is there and watching. And he never made Philip enter the Demon Realm with him, out of a misguided desire to not make his baby brother uncomfortable, force him out of his comfort zone, etc.

         Caleb might’ve told Philip to wait for him back home, if he didn’t want to enter the magical portal with him; He’d be back! And Caleb did return, multiple times. And Philip didn’t rat him and Evelyn out because he was still a child, and not as dead set into his hatred yet… But I’ve compared Philip to King, as little kids with delusions of grandeur involving their enemies being crushed beneath them.

         And remember Really Small Problems, when King initially tolerated Luz going off to be with Willow and Gus, due to her promise to come back for him? But after enough time of feeling neglected, King’s resentment began to build up? Within the span of just one night, King wasn’t yet ready to intentionally make Willow and Gus ‘temporarily disappear’, but when it happened, he took advantage of the situation anyway instead of bringing them back ASAP, and eventually owned up to this mistake.

         So imagine how Philip felt across years; He may have disliked Evelyn, but not enough to want her dead… But after enough time of feeling resentful over Caleb dedicating time to Evelyn instead of just him, Philip became selfish and entitled over the fact that his brother dared to have a life that didn’t revolve around Philip. Until he became angry enough at Evelyn to want her dead, and retroactively fell back on the belief of witches as inherently evil in order to morally justify these desires, instead of admitting he was just possessive of his older brother. Plus, exposing Evelyn could make him a hero in the eyes of the townsfolk!

         We know there was a big fire, and we know Evelyn was declared a witch by Gravesfield. This could’ve been in response to her, Caleb, and Philip all disappearing; But it’s also possible that realization occurred while they were still there. And that it in fact may have driven Evelyn out of the human world, with Caleb following because he potentially ousted himself by openly defending her. Seeing his brother commit a moral wrong he couldn’t stand by could’ve influenced Caleb to leave when the two of them were adults; As was the ‘reassurance’ that Philip was now accepted by the town as a witch hunter who exposed Evelyn and spearheaded her exile, whereas Caleb was even more of an outcast for his collaboration.

         Of course, the idea that Caleb was an adult when he moved out does raise the question? Why do we not see this progression of age in the memory portraits? And again, there’s what I said about ambiguity and whatnot, but there’s also the conventions of the time skip. Just as TOH ends on a time skip where we don’t see the gradual progression of the characters’ aging outside of some photos, for the Wittebanes, whose story is only told through photos, the framing skips over the years Caleb and Evelyn interacted. The turning point in which the two met and the latter revealed herself was enough…

         After all, the portraits already skip past Philip’s aging to bring us to his arrival in the Demon Realm as an adult; Who’s to say they didn’t skip past years of Caleb growing up in Gravesfield with Evelyn? Caleb entering the Boiling Isles with Evelyn as a child wasn’t the last Philip saw of his brother, until he himself entered years later; But it was the beginning of ‘the end’ in his eyes, the beginning of when he felt he lost Caleb.

         In the end, a lot of this is speculative. It’s possible Caleb was only portrayed as an adult in-universe because the townspeople correctly remembered Philip being an adult when they last saw him, so generations afterwards made the mistake of applying this to his older brother. History isn’t as well-documented as people would like to believe, even the famous stories are forgotten and picked up after a while; Major details people should’ve easily remembered fall through the holes of time. Entire cities have been lost and rediscovered.

        But ultimately, the fact that Belos’ memories DO portray a ‘timeskip’ based on what we see of them anyway, in addition to the confirmation that Caleb and Evelyn met up over time before the former moved… I think that solidifies my belief that yes, Caleb was an adult when he left Gravesfield, as was Philip. The statues in Yesterday’s Lie are among the very first indicators of Caleb’s existence, as is the episode itself acting as a ‘debut’ of sorts for him in the lore. So maybe Gravesfield’s depiction isn’t so inaccurate, after all…

#the owl house #caleb wittebane #philip wittebane #emperor belos #evelyn clawthorne #analysis #speculation

[gothic-thoughts]

No One Left Behind

Zoro Roronoa x Black Fem Reader Angst

Enemies2Lovers, Exes2LoversAU, PirateAU

CW: she/her pronouns, sword fighting, drinking, cheating allegations, jealous rage

Word Count: 1250 (give or take)

You were sitting in the same bar they met in, where they had their first sword fight with a half-empty bottle of wine resting on the table. You were here frequently drinking to forget the man you should never have wasted your time with. Why do you even come back here? To see if he would come back or to keep hurting yourself over and over at the memory?

You grab the bottle by the neck and chug, throwing your head back to finish the bottle. You stop when it's less than half full but almost choke seeing that familiar green hair sitting at the bar. Blinking rapidly, you try to free yourself from your daydream while coughing wine out of your lungs when Zoro glances over at the sound of the choking.

He shrugs and shakes his head, not recognizing you as he resumes sipping his drink, angering you even more than your memories. You stand abruptly with a loud and annoyed groan to grab his attention again as you yank off your bandana and pull your curly hair from the ponytail, shaking your head slightly to let it fall to your shoulders in its original poofy state. Zoro quickly stands from his seat with wide eyes, a small smile slowly spreading on his lips.

“.....(Y/n).....” He starts walking closer, “You...changed.”

“Oh, so you do remember me after running off?” You snap, running fingers through the curls to fix it up better, “How wonderful.”

“Run off...? The hell are you—”

“And not only did you run off without a word,” You pull your sword, gripping it tightly, “You had an orange-haired woman with you. She and some...stretchy kid. Didn’t know you liked redheads, that’s new.”

He pauses and crosses his arms. “Put that away, that wasn’t what you thought it was.”

“Oh so, you think I'm stupid? You saying I imagined you running off with another woman, another pirate at that? Never pegged you for the type to gaslight, Roronoa.”

“And jealousy doesn’t look good on you, (Y/n). That ‘orange-haired woman’ is one of my crew mates, her name is Nami.”

“Tch, crew? Crew?!” You laugh as you walk towards him, sword aimed for his chest, “You....have a crew?! Bet that means you see her every day...and night.”

Blinded with anger, you swing but Zoro quickly sidesteps the blow with ease, making you slice clean through the nearest table. He sighs in annoyance and looks at you as you stand up straight with a piercing glare in his direction and ready to swing again.

"As flattering as this is," He rests his hands on one of his 3 swords, "You're being irrational; I'm telling you, she's just one of my friends.”

“You’re telling me the pirate hunter ran off with pirates without a word to his pirate lover for 3 years? And you expect me to see the only pirate woman you ran with as a friend?”

"Alright, I'll give you that. Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m telling you that they’re friends; she's just a friend.”

“You're lying...” Your voice cracks, breaking with distraught, “You're lying.”

“You know what, I take that back actually,” he says, avoiding your quick slices, “You didn’t change at all; you still don’t listen.”

Zoro continued dodging your slashes around the bar, stepping back to allow any nearby bottles, chairs, and tables to be sliced instead. Patrons moved around the bar with gasps and screams, some even leaving to escape being cut in half. The swordsman continued to expertly and narrowly dodge and back away with his hand on his 3 swords, still not wanting to fight.

"(Y/n), I know you're angry, but you're not getting a fight."

“Not if you keep running." You huff, walking towards him with the point aimed at his chest, "I swore to myself that I'd kill you, you lying son of a bitch.”

"Really now?" Zoro flashes a smug smirk, “You are good, but I sincerely doubt that'll happen."

“I’ve been waiting 3 years for this day; I’m pretty fucking committed.”

“Quite an impressive grudge, I’d expect nothing less from you."

"Then give me a fair fight."

"Answer is still no. Honestly, I’m just letting you get this out so we can talk.”

His random confession caught you off guard, and in the second you took to think, he pushed the side of the sword away from his chest, sending your weapon over the bar. You kick him and take out your dagger before slashing his forearm. He backs away into a pillar for a breath, letting you press against him with the small blade to his throat. Zoro relaxes, raising both eyebrows at your threatening glare and misty eyes. You squint, causing the moisture to overflow down your brown cheeks.

“You fucking!" You punch him in the stomach, making him groan slightly, "You let me win!”

“Cuz that's what you want; you’re obviously too mad to listen to reason.”

“I don’t wanna hear that bullshit! I wanted a fair fight!” 

“As much as I wanted to, I don't want to hurt you when you clearly don't know what you're fighting about. That being said....”

The fed-up swordsman grabs your wrist, slowly guiding the dagger back at your face to startle you a little before snatching it and throwing it through a window with an annoyed grunt. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer, leaving you to gasp.

“Shut up and listen. You're right, I ran off without a word, and I’m sorry, but it wasn't just because of her. It was because they needed my help, Nami and Luffy. I didn’t cheat.”

“You--”

“Hush! It’s not like I wouldn’t tell you I’m leaving, I didn't have time. We were being chased by Marines and needed to go. She's like a little sister to me, that's all.”

Your breathing started to settle now that you were actually listening. Zoro sighs in relief, arm keeping you as close as possible. He quickly links his lips with yours, strong hands sliding up your back while yours glide up to his broad shoulders and rest the other on the back of his neck. You cup each other's faces, and grasp at each other's shirts while groaning into each other's mouths desperately. You part, panting in the space between them.

“I swore I'd kill you if I saw you again for breaking my heart.” You scoff, chuckling, “So...you're just a pirate now?...

He nods a little. “I'm on Luffy's crew...my friends.”

“I guess that means our relationship isn't forbidden anymore, ex-pirate hunter.”

“Yeah, that also means that." He smiles a little, "(Y/n), would you consider joining us? You could be a pirate with me, of course, it'd be a little different."

“No more cat and mouse~”

“Oh, I know how much you love to be chased. But, if you ask me, it could be a lot more fun.” He kisses your cheek softly, “And if you decided to, that means we’d never be apart for as long as we did. Just think about it.”

“Tch, never?”

He nods, looking straight into your eyes. “Never. I know you work alone, but just think about it.”

“I just might, pirate hunter. You owe me a dagger, by the way. That window faces the dumpster.”

He chuckles, picking up your sword and handing it to you.

"You're impossible."

#zoro opla #zoro x reader #zoro x black reader #black reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #black writers #one piece zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x y/n #roronoa zoro #zoro angst #one piece #zoro fluff

[trashmouth-richie]

for the hih bonus features can we get eddie x tooty first fight after everything happened 🥹💗

anon🫡🫡 i have been wanting to write something like this for such a long time, i hope you like it. ❤️

masterlist — one year of hih anniversary

you weren’t used to this. 

  the doting, the constant reassurance to see if you were okay. more doting. always a calm voice. Eddie cared—loved you bigger than anyone ever has, and you loved him equally as much.

  but something dragged, crawled against your skin in piercing talons when he treated you as if you were helpless, as if you weren’t capable of doing things on your own. 

  it came out in a snap. a bitchy tone that eddie hadn’t heard since the early days of being your roommate. 

  it startled him. and he froze, not sure if you were serious. so he looked at you with hurt eyes. “what?”

  “i can cut my own fucking steak, eddie.” 

  steve stopped with his lips pressed to his wine glass, scared to move, eyes wide bracing for the car crash that would take place across from the dining room table. 

  eddie sets the knife down, slides your plate back over to you, “just trying to be nice, baby.” 

  with a huff, and a screeching scratch of the chair carving the wood floor under your weight, you throw the cloth napkin onto the porcelain plate, leaving the room in a quick stomp. 

  steve whistles low, “i know those stomps, you’re in the dog house man,” he takes a generous sip of his wine, wiping his face with the back of his hand, “sleep on the pullout in the basement tonight… it’s not too uncomfortable.” 

  eddie rolls his eyes, throwing a dinner roll into steve’s chest, “you’re not helping dickwad.” 

  “easy” steve tries, “better go find out what you did wrong.” 

  “fuck.”

  he finds you fuming, wearing a path in the carpet in your shared room at steve’s, tears welled but not ready to fall. 

  “babe?” eddie asks, shutting the door quietly, unthreading his chain wallet from his jeans setting it on the dresser, “are you… okay?”

  “jesus christ eddie!” you snap, “i’m fine— more than fine!” 

  eddie looks at you blankly, “you don’t look fine.” 

  “oh yeah? of course when it comes to me, you have all the answers, huh?”  

  “the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

  im okay eddie! i don’t need you to constantly ask if im feeling okay, or if im comfortable or if i need anything!” 

  “thats what boyfriends do, babe.” 

  “No— no no no no!” you say pulling at your hair, frustrated beyond recognition, angry tears falling, “you treat me like i’m made of glass, like one step the wrong way and i’ll break! ever since i’ve gotten out of the hospital you’ve treated me like a fucking porcelain doll!” 

  “you almost died, remember that?” eddie says defensively, peering down at you, “i’m never going to forgive myself, or forget what happened, tooty—” his voice breaks but he swallows it down. 

  “we can’t keep living in the past eddie! it happened, it’s over with, i’m not a fucking little kid!” 

  he’s yelling now, voice angry and filled with sad rage, “i won’t forget! every single day— every time i look at you i think of what would have happened if i was there… how i could have stopped him!” he runs a hand through his hair in defeat, bottom lip trembling.

   “Fuck, i’m sorry for coddling you, baby, really i am— but right now.. the only thing— the only fucking thing— that keeps me from breaking down and wondering what a loaded gun tastes like—is taking care of you.”

  he grunts at the weight of you flying into him, holding him tight and sobbing into his chest, he kisses your head, his own cheeks wet, as he whispers, “ i’m just trying to makeup for what I couldn’t do that night, baby. ” 

  you kiss him deep smashing your lips to his, peppering i’m sorry’s all over his skin, pulling him onto the bed with you. 

  he’s silent when he cries, sniffling every once in a while as you comb through his hair, his body on yours. 

  you’ve been rubbing slow circles into his scalp. and his tears turn to small kisses

  “it wasn’t your fault eddie, it never was,” you whisper lifting his head in your hands and looking him in the eyes, “i love you.” 

  his face is red, eyelids swollen, “how? how can you love me after that?” 

  you press your lips to his, speaking the only truth that kept you from screaming into the void from wanting to let the grief swallow you whole,  “because you showed up.” 

#honey i'm home #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #fic recs #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things

[wayfayrr]

So this is very much a self indulgent mini-fic, venting about some stuff that I've been dealing with recently <3 I'm working on requests and some other fics but I got told to post this to get it off of my chest anyway @cloudninetonine @angry-trashcan thanks for the confidence boost to be able to post this

“Hey, you’ve been sitting over here for a while, you feeling alright?”

“Just been thinking… I was part of some drama before I was uh brought here. It’s just, it’s just messed with me a bit I guess. I’ll be fine when we need to start moving again, don’t worry wars.”

After a brief second of fabric shuffling, he sits down and leans on me. It’s an oddly comforting feeling, different too like he’s bothered by something? What could’ve set him off so badly?

“Would you mind if I asked you about it? It’s clearly bothering you so, you should get it off of your chest and well, I’d just like to help you through this.”

“If you really want to know, it’s a little complicated though and while I can make a lot of it make sense to you I’ll have to leave a couple of things out.”

“Sounds like you’re willing to get it off of your chest though, so would you care to explain it to me honeybee?”

He’s being more persistent than usual too, have I really been looking so badly bothered by my thoughts? The worry does feel nice however, it feels more like talking to an old friend than anything which is wonderful seeing as I’ve not been able to reach them recently. I’ve just been stuck rereading old messages in a new context while my phone endlessly buffers to reach impossibly far servers.

“It’s… I’d been having issues with this person for a while… they used me more than anything, kept asking me for advice and making everything about them and brushed anything I or my other friends were trying to say off and sent things they really shouldn’t to people unwarrented… and then everything else.”

“Everything else? You don’t have to cut yourself off, with how you’ve been acting the rest feels like it’ll be worse anyway.”

“They just - someone connected some dots and pointed them out to me and I just… I’ve been going back over what they said and - and - and it made me think. They told me they associated my voice with a character they always got weird over, they kept fawning over my accent and how they’ve only ever heard it in fiction before, they gave me weird compliments when I was talking about things I did as a kid and that’s not even getting me started on how they treated my friends. I just… I feel so disgusted, seeing it in this light. Every bit of my skin just itches with disgust towards myself. Sorry I didn’t mean to share so much at once - I’m just tired. They didn’t even like me, it was like they only wanted me for where I’m from.”

The way he stilled sent a shiver down me, did I say to much? He might have not meant it when he said I could share… I mean theres no way he could’ve known… or does he think I’m simply overreacting? I’m probably just overreacting anyway.

My heart started beating again when he softened and pulled me to rest on him.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that all. They’re the one who is disgusting, not you, never you. I’ll speak to time, you should just rest for the rest of the day. I can lend you my scarf and you can just have a nap or I could ask wild to make your favourite food and you can just rest.”

I didn’t get a say before he’s already draped it over my shoulders; he’s leading me back over to the others and setting me down next to sky as he goes to speak with time. 

“Hmm? Did something happen, are you feeling alright dove?”

“Ah well, wars is going to ask time if we can stop for the day because I’m just dealing with some memories. I hope it won’t bother the others.”

“I doubt it, everyone’s been tense and tired recently. I know I have, I’ve been about dying for a rest. Would you care to join me too?”

Leaning back against him is all the response he needs as my eyes flutter closed, he’s so warm and comfortable. There are few people I’d prefer to rest next to. 

><><><><><><

“So then old man, I think that’s a good enough reason to settle for the day, don’t you?”

I know he’ll agree, asking him like this is simply a formality. After all, how could we continue when a member of the group is in such a state? On the verge of tears just from thinking about someone for a little bit too long. 

“You’ve never asked this for anyone else, but fine.” “Thank you Time, I’ll pay you back for this.”

“And Wars?”

“Hmm?”

“Go take your anger out on something, it’s not a good energy in the camp. Not if they’re so fragile right now. There’s apparently a standard bokoblin camp just a little south.”

He’s seen right through me then, but now I don’t need an alibi for when I come back.

#venting #vent fic #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #moss✦writes

[dontexpectmuch]

Wifey, i have an idea. Imagine Jude being so in love with his gf who has never seen snow before? He adores her so much that he secretly prays that it snows every day and they just play together like little kids do :(((((

Yes i’ve never seen snow. Fulfill my dream please 🧍🏻‍♀️

it seemed like sitting still on the couch was impossible for jude, shaking his leg, rubbing his hands together, getting up to look outside and then going back to sit on the couch was all he did for the past twenty minutes.

they said it would snow, just be patient, was what he kept telling himself over and over again, trying his best to keep his hopes up.

jude just really, really wants to experience your first snow together, he wants to see you all cuddled up in your big jacket and long scarf with your hat covering half of your face. you’d look so cozy, he thinks, it would be cold yet you would radiate your usual warmth mixed with excitement.

22:46. and still no snow. you must be in bed already, he thinks and the thought of yet another day of no snow made jude groan in frustration, angry at the weather forecast even if it primarily wasn’t their fault.

he got up from his spot, almost feeling stupid for spending his entire day in the living room while looking out of the window. he could’ve just spent the time with you, but you had some work left and told him to meet up tomorrow instead.

after his night routine and kissing his mums forehead good night, jude finds himself laying in his bed, phone in his hands as he checks up on your for the last time before also closing his eyes to get rest.

‘still no snow :(‘ he sends you the message, his face subconsciously mimicking the emoji that he used.

your reply came in seconds later, ‘komm schon jude! it’s fine, tomorrow will be better :)’

‘hopefully. i love you, good night’

‘love you too!’, jude could hear your happy voice in his head, the one that always tries to stay positive when he feels sad or hopeless. you really did always lift him up when he needed it the most.

sighing for the last time that day, jude puts his phone away and covers himself with his blanket, praying internally for a better day when he wakes up.

jude thinks he is dreaming as he feels something shake his body rapidly and just waves it off, trying to concentrate on the ball on his feet. at first it was faint, almost inaudible, then the volume increased until he finally heard his name being called out repeatedly.

“jude! c’mon you grandpa, it’s happening! get up, will you?!” your voice appeared next to his ear, straddling jude as he shots up, eyes wide as he looks at you in disbelief.

“dude, what are you doing here!” he exclaimed, heart beating fast as he tries to understand the situation.

“oh, wow.” you roll your eyes playfully, “i thought you’d be happy to see me first thing in the morning.”

now, jude grins, leaning forward on his hands as he kisses you on the cheek, “how about i show you how happy i really-“

shaking your head and pulling away from his touch, you cut him off, excitement entering your body again as you get up from your spot next to him, “no time for that, jude! get dressed! it snowed!”

“huh?”

jude looked around, noticing that his room was brighter than it usually was in the morning and when he looked out of the window, he couldn’t help but get out of his bed to get a closer look. there it was, his usual view of greenery now painted in white, children were playing outside, some elder people were shoveling their front porches.

“get dressed! i’ll be waiting outside!” you kiss his cheek for the last time and leave his room, getting impatient with how slowly jude moved around.

some minutes passed, maybe ten, but not a lot and now jude also stood outside, watching your happy figure create snow angels there, start to build a snowman here and just smiling at him whenever your eyes met.

jude always believed that you looked the best when you talked about something you were passionate about. though, it seems like he had to correct his ranking. excitement looked even better on you, your eyes shined like the moon when reflecting on the water, your smile warmes his insides like a nice hot chocolate after a day out in the cold.

if that is what you look like every time it snows, winter might just become his new favorite season of the year.

————————————

i am hungry, so, so hungry.

#football one shot #football x reader #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fluff #football

[flight-of-the-sacred-eagle]

So, I’m still yelling about Sonic Prime season 2. It’s. So fucking good?

And not just because someone on the writing team 100% ships Sonadow because, holy crap, so much of that episode feels shippy.

So, full disclosure. Shadow is my favorite Sonic character. Ever since I saw him in Heroes I loved him. As a kid I didn’t notice the real “constantly shifting character” thing. Now, having played almost every major 3d Sonic game (I didn’t play Forces and refused to play Boom), having watched shows like Sonic X and Sonic Prime (again, I stayed away from Boom but I’ve heard it’s amazing), I think it’s obvious that he gets wildly mischaracterized.

He’s angsty, yes. I mean, he watched his child best friend/sister get shot to death in front of him when he was… five (Look, he’s simultaneously Sonic’s age, over 50, and like five- his age is an enigma), that would make anyone angsty. But he’s also genuinely caring, even if he rarely shows it.

Look no further than 06 when he accidentally releases Mephelis because he picks up Rogue to move her away, or when he intercepts Silver so Sonic can go save Elise. He’s actively saved the world three times- SA2, Shadow the Hedgehog, and 06, with him sacrificing his life in his first appearance. And let’s not forget how he genuinely seemed upset in 06 when Sonic died.

Actually, 06 is the best characterization of Shadow since his introduction. And it can basically all be summed up in his own words. “If the whole world chooses to turn against me, then I’ll fight like I always have.”

He’s brooding. He’s harsh. He’s proud and independent. But by god will he fight to the death for what is right. He cares about people, but he uses actions not words.

Now, what does this have to do with Sonic Prime? Well, this is probably the best characterization of Shadow they’ve ever done. He’s still broody and much more reserved, but everything he’s doing is selfless. He’s not beating up Sonic just because.

He’s beating up Sonic because he, rightfully in my mind, sees Sonic as a threat to his world. He isn’t trying to prevent Sonic from saving the world, he’s basically trying to put him in time out for ruining the world.

This is more than proven when he not only realizes that he can’t do something, but he also realizes that the only way to fix everything is to work together. And he actively admit that. Reluctantly, yes, but he says they need to work together.

He’s still angry and is currently furious at Sonic, but… he kind of has the right to be. Interestingly, he actually spoke to Sonic before fighting him (which, side note, was animated amazingly).

And let’s not forget his cockiness. It’s done perfectly. He’s not taking it too far like Sonic tends to do, but him being a smug little shit is great. And I think it really helps to show the dynamic he and Sonic have because he’s just. Not like that around other characters.

Without using words, they managed to show that, despite the fighting that’s happening, there’s a bond between Sonic and Shadow. One that can only be forged by fighting to save the world side by side.

I think it’s also important to mention that Shadow clearly was enjoying his fight with Sonic. Probably because it’s the most normal thing he’s experienced in forever. His friends are gone. Green Hill is gone. The chaos emerald is gone (though I have a suspicion that it’s going to come back at some point. It fell into the void for a reason and that void was shown for a reason. My bet is that they’re going to need to enter the void at some point). He’s trapped in limbo.

Fighting Sonic is a constant. One he desperately needs.

I know I’ve been rambling but for the first time in over a decade, they’ve gotten Shadow’s personality perfectly. Makes me wonder if the writers, or at least some of them, played SA2 growing up. After all… it’s been long enough since he was introduced that the target audience for SA2 when it was released would be old enough to work for the SEGA team.

It also makes me crazy excited for the third Sonic movie. I know they’re different writers, but they have hit the nail on the head with each character, and if a different show can characterize Shadow that well… maybe Sega is relaxing their iron grip on him and allowing him to actively shine.

Also that scene with Shadow falling to the void and Sonic sounding genuinely panicked was amazing. You can tell he was getting SA2 flashbacks. Someone likened the scene to Andrew Garfield’s Spider-Man watching MJ fall in No Way Home and catching her when he couldn’t catch Gwen, and yeah. The emotional impact seems to be the same.

Sonic couldn’t save Shadow then, but he can save him now.

Just… go watch Prime if you haven’t. Sonic fans have been treated well these past few years and I can’t wait to see what comes next.

#sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #sonic prime #Sonic #shadow #sonadow #sonic prime spoilers

[wardenparker]

Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 5

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.    

Rating: E for Explicit. 18+! Word Count: 9.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Sexy shower time, a whole truck load of anger, fisticuffs, a bunch of angry people being upset with each other. Summary: A blissful morning becomes a whirlwind nightmare when Tequila sees your tattoo. But the biggest revelation doesn’t come until you’ve gotten all the way back to Louisville. Notes: Guys, I just...this chapter happens very fast and there is a *lot* of stuff going on. And I just love absolutely everything about it. 😂

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

Sunlight streaming through the curtains is what wakes you, traffic on the busy Boston streets leaking into the beautiful calm of your room and heavy arm around your waist anchoring you to the mattress. Tex is curled around your back like a huge koala, holding on and nuzzling into the back of your neck in his dreams. The general lack of clothing and ache between your thighs would be telltale if you had been drunk when everything happened, but you since you weren't it's just a lovely reminder. Every second is catalogued away in your memory, right down to the moment you both collapsed, sweaty and satiated, and fell asleep in each other's arms within minutes.

Humming, Tex is aware the second you wake, stirring from his own deep and satisfying sleep. "Good morning." He grins and kisses the back of your neck without even opening his eyes. "Did I manage to convince you?" He asks playfully, telling you last night before falling asleep he was going to demand an answer on if you preferred cowboys in the morning.

"Got a secret for you," you mumble, turning over in his arms to curl into his chest. If not for the damn family brunch you're supposed to be at this morning, you would be very happy not to move from this bed. "I've always liked cowboys."

Tequila barks out a sleep rough chuckle and pulls you closer, rolling onto his back so that you are sprawled out on top of him. "That so, cowgirl?" He huffs playfully.

“Always.” The nod you give him is solemn, even if your grin is playful. “Watched Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid the first time when I was eleven and never got over it.”

You would make a perfect spouse for a Statesman agent then. Tequila knows he can't tell you about things until it becomes more serious, but he winks at you. "Well then, I guess you're in luck." He teases, leaning in and kissing you while he reaches up to grab his hat off the bedpost. He pulls away and sets it on your head.

“It’s about as subtle as a heart attack.” His hat shades you like a beach umbrella when he pops it on top of your bed head and you laugh, dopey on attraction and good dreams. “I like it though. Might have to get one of my own eventually.”

“No need to be subtle.” Tex grins at you and rolls his hips up, letting you feel the very unsubtle thing that is hard between you. “Not when I’m showing my hand.”

“Good.” When you look down at him again you hum a little, bowing your head to steal another kiss. “I hate games. One hundred percent honesty all the way.”

He would pull you against him for another round, but he got a copy of the itinerary, same as you, and he knows that you need to be there for the brunch. “How about we explore in the shower while we get ready?” He poses, smirking against your lips as he squeezes your ass.

“Sexy and responsible. I like it.” You sit up reluctantly, knowing that it will have to be a quickie since you’re supposed to be downstairs in the dining room in half an hour. “C’mon, cowboy. I’m sure the shower has enough room for two.”

“I made sure of it.” Tex sits up as you scamper off the bed. Hating that you are walking away from him, but admiring the way your ass shakes. “Plenty of time to make sure your knees tremble when you walk.” He growls confidently before he throws himself out of bed to chase after you.

“Planning on seducing me, were you?” Even though you make it to the bathroom first, his long arm reaches past you to turn on the shower head and you smirk at him over your shoulder. “Have I been seduced?”

“Have you?” Tex winks at you and grins. “You tell me.”

"Fifty-fifty," you decide, after giving him a good, long look up and down. Tex isn't shy about anything, least of all his body, and he gives you a flex for good measure. "Call it a mutual seduction."

"I can't deny that." He chuckles and glances down pointedly at his groin for good measure.

"If you want more, you gotta get in here." One step backward and you're in the shower, tipping your head back to luxuriate in the fierce spray of hot water. "Otherwise we're gonna be late."

"Wash first, play after." Tex promises, sending you a wink and ducking his head down to lick a line of water off your chest, perilously close to your nipple.

"How is that after?" You whine, gasping at how close he comes to where you wish he would have directed that troublesome tongue of his.

He chuckles again and straights up, sending you a small wink. "You don't want me to wash you?" He asks with a play pout.

"Well...if you're offering." The nearby facecloth is in your hand immediately, getting soaking wet under the hot water to hand over so he can lather it - and you - up.

Taking the washrag, Tex smirks and motions for you to turn around. "Back first." He tells you, reaching out to slap your ass when you obey him.

"Yes, sir." Giggling, you shake your ass for him before stretching your arms and giving a contented sigh. This is pretty close to a perfect morning, as far as morning after scenarios go, and you're planning on enjoying the hell out of it.

He tucks his tongue between his teeth and starts to wash you. Just because he's copping a feel here and there - okay, a lot of feels - doesn't mean he isn't going to wash you properly.

It's nearly hypnotic, aside from the distracting hands grabbing and squeezing and making both of you giggle or moan, alternately. When he finally gets to your other arm, he starts rubbing at it like he's trying to scrub your skin clean off and you laugh again. "Sometimes the makeup gets smudgy before it comes off," you explain, having entirely forgotten that you covered your tattoo in the first place. There were different, much more fun things to think about. "I got the heavy-duty stuff a while back. Like what they use on movie sets for actors."

Tex frowns, not commenting as he works the layers of makeup off your skin. Thinking that the placement is odd as he swipes at it with the cloth. He doesn't want to hurt you but there is a knot of dread that is starting to build as the ink starts to slowly become visible under the flesh colored makeup.

"You don't have to be timid about it." Turning half around, you reach for the cloth but see the utter dismay on his face. "Don't tell me you're against ink?" That would be...extremely inconvenient. But it's not like you have Eat Me written above your cunt or something. Although that would be fucking hilarious. "I know everybody at Statesman is into the clean-cut look, but I've had this for years."

Tex shakes his head, unable to explain why this tattoo has him floored. "I—I don't." He murmurs softly, standing up and stepping back from you. His heart aches and he hates that he's seen it. Wishing he didn't know who else sported this tattoo. "I—shit." He shakes his head and closes his eyes on a sigh.

"What's wrong?" He looks like he's seen a ghost, which makes you cringe a bit and suddenly wish you weren't both standing naked in such an intimate setting. "I—I don't...have a soulmate. If that's what you're worried about. I used to have a bunch more tattoos and a couple of weeks ago they...they just disappeared. And that only happens when...when your soulmate dies. So don't think you've got, ya know, competition or anything."

His jaw rocks when he realizes you don't know. You don't fucking know. Confusion mars your beautiful face and he knows that you are going to be hurt. Hell, he's hurt. Jack didn't fucking let him know and he knows that motherfucker was aware of his interest in you. It wasn't like they hadn't prowled around together enough to know when the other had taken a shinin' to a particular woman.

“I’m really gonna need you to say something.” He looks angry and it’s unsettling in the very worst way, making you tense up and cross your arms over your chest in a protective stance. “Like now, please.”

"I've - I've seen that tattoo." Tequila admits, hating how the weekend is now over. Of course it is. "Recently."

“What?” Standing still and perfectly stable, you nearly fall over from the way that seemingly simple news rocks through you and makes your heart skips beats on its way up into your throat. Second soulmates are supposed to be a fairy tale. “On who? When?”

"I—I can't tell you." Tex can't say anything, not without getting into the classified details and Champ's already riding his ass for being 'too lax' with classifications. "Not yet."

“Well that’s un-fucking-acceptable.” And definitely makes you think he could be lying or creating an excuse to get out of seeing you again when you get back to Kentucky. Which is both hurtful are extremely fucking disappointing. You had thought Tex was a better man than that. Of course - you had thought Jack was a better man, too. Maybe you’re just a shit judge of character. “Second soulmates are impossible. If you saw my tattoo on someone then maybe my soulmate didn’t die. They just…had plastic surgery or something?”

You're her. The woman that put marks on Jack's body. The same one that your soulmate was killed by Jack just a few weeks ago. No wonder Jack kept running from you, guilt written on his face. "I—I'm sorry, darlin'." Tex shakes his head and swallows harshly, aware that you are pissed. "It's…it's classified."

“What the fuck does that mean?” It’s too much to digest, after how much fun last night was and how much Jack disappearing into thin air hurt you earlier in the week, to think that Tex is just wriggling his way out of things after getting what he wanted.

He doesn't like the hurt on your face. Not at all. Reaching up, he cups your cheek and stares into your eyes. "I promise you that I'm not trying to hurt you." He chokes out, his heart clenching and he fucking hates that he ever suggested a goddamn shower. He could have been blissfully unaware of who's soulmate you are. "It— it'll make sense soon."

Instinct takes over, making you recoil and slap his hand away the second it touches your skin. The tears are hot and angry, pressing against the backs of your eyes like prickling needles when you shove him out of the way to get out of the shower - half-clean and half-mortified. “If you wanted a one-night thing I would’ve been fine with that,” you tell him flatly, even though it’s a fucking lie. You don’t look back as you pull open the door of the shower and step out, grabbing for the closest towel to cover up with. “You didn’t have to be fucking mean about it.”

"I'm...” Tex sighs and his head drops down between his shoulders. "That's not what happened." He whispers as you march out of the bathroom.

******

Brunch is excruciating, making excuses for his absence to your family because you hadn’t wanted to spoil the morning after your cousin’s wedding with being outwardly angry. Instead you simmer all morning with too many mimosas, and on the plane with your headphones jammed into your ears staring stock forward so he doesn’t dare try to talk to you on the way back to Kentucky.

No more cowboys. You lecture yourself sternly, hauling your weekender bag up onto your shoulder the second you deplane and speed walking away from the broad-and-tall frame of the cowboy who had driven you both to the airport. You’ll take an Uber, thank you very much. Now more cowboys and no more putting your heart on the line. Getting it bashed with a proverbial sledgehammer twice in one week is plenty enough to learn your lesson.

Tequila sighs, jogging up to you and grabbing your bag. While he understands you hate him, he can't let you go off on your own. Not when he knows who your soulmate is. It's a security risk and he wonders if that's why Jack sent him to the wedding with you. "Come on, you don't have to talk to me, but don't be dumb."

“Give it back.” Fury doesn’t usually last this long for you, but you’re seething with it to cover up how disappointed and hurt you are.

"No." Tex shakes his head, pulling it back out of your reach. "Get in the damn truck." He tells you. "I'm gunna get you back to Statesman unharmed. Then you can never talk to me again."

“Why do you even care?” Considering he’s taller, faster, and stronger than you, it’s not like you can overpower him and get your bag back, so you stare him down instead.

"Because I care about you." He insists. "You might not believe that, but I do."

“Bullshit.” Still, you pull open the door of his enormous pickup truck yourself because it will annoy him that you didn’t wait, and swing yourself up into the passenger seat. You’re mad enough to you’ve moved over to spiteful, but at least he hasn’t seen you cry. “Just take me home.”

"I will." Tex clenches his jaw as he climbs into the truck and his fist curls around the steering wheel hard enough to make the plastic groan. "Bet your ass I will."

Fucking dramatic ass cowboys. You sink down in the seat and squeeze your eyes shut, desperately wishing you were going home to New Hampshire to sit with your sister or out to New York City to hang out with your brother. Anything but the little house halfway in between the two men who have kicked you to the curb like last week's garbage.

As the truck barrels its way towards Statesman, the anger inside Tequila builds. Pissed at Jack for what he's done. The selfish son of a bitch caused you to hate him. He stews with every mile that the tires eat up, nearly red faced by the time that truck turns onto the road that leads towards Statesman housing.

As soon as he pulls into your driveway you jump out of the truck, grabbing your bag from the cargo bed and heading straight inside. The sooner you can get into a bath with an army of scented candles and a bottle of something much stronger than watered down mimosas or airline nips, the better. You can just wash away the horrific memories of this weekend and never speak of it again.

The moment the front door of your cabin slams, Tequila throws the truck in reverse, the tires squealing from how hard he stomps on the gas. Fury making him sling the truck around and gun it as he throws it into drive. Hearing the engine roar with a grim wince of satisfaction as the V-12 lurches forward.

******

The door to Jack's office slams open under his palm, a satisfying creak and groan of heavy wood mirroring the stomp of Tequila's boots. His vision is so tunneled by righteous anger that he doesn't see Champ lounging in the armchair off to the side of Jack's heavy desk - only focused on the man he came to confront. There's no hesitation in his step, singularly motivated by the boiling in his blood when he storms forward and swings, connecting with Jack's jaw with flawless precision. "You son of a bitch!"

Jack goes sprawling to the floor, shocked but he's quickly bouncing back. "What the fuck!" He shouts, picking himself up off the floor and glaring at his friend. "Have you lost your fucking mind?"

"Have you?" Tequila spits back, slamming his fist into Jack's desk next. The crash is satisfying in an entirely separate way. "How could you not tell me?!"

"Tell you what?" Jack demands, frowning and shaking his head to look over at Champ. "What the fuck didn't I tell you?"

"Her!" Tequila bellows, towering over Jack with a red face and hurt eyes as the older man gets back to his feet. "Did you think I wouldn't find out she's your fucking soulmate?"

Shit. The anger drains out of Jack's face and he stares at Tequila. "She's— it's a mistake." He chokes out. "I'm not – I can't be her soulmate." He insists, begging the younger man to believe him. "You know that."

"I saw her fucking tattoo, Jack." He doesn't even notice that Champ has jumped up to slam Jack's office door shut, containing the noise as well as the news. Tequila is too wrapped in his own fury to notice anything at all. "You knew and you didn't say a fucking word and now she's furious with me because you went and shoved your head in the goddamn dirt."

"You didn't have to fuck her!" Jack shouts back, anger surprising him although he had known what would happen if the other agent went with you. He had known that Tequila was attracted to you, but he had ignored it. "You coulda kept your dick in your pants for once in your goddamn life."

"I wouldn't have if you had said something!" The outrage on both ends is obvious, but Tequila feels it twisting in his guts like something ugly. "I'd have kept my damn mouth shut and kept her company and kept my fucking feelings to myself if you had just said something."

"Feelings?" Jack scoffs and shakes his head. "Since when is horny a fucking feeling?"

"Fuck you." Tequila bites out, but Champ grabs his arm before he can wind up for another good hit.

"Cut the shit, both of you." He orders, tone short and sharp and brokering no insubordination. "What the hell happened?"

Jack snaps his head around and blows out a breath, realizing that Champ is the room still. He had completely forgotten about the older man after Tequila busted into the room like a pissed off bull in a china shop. "I don't have a fucking clue." He spits, glaring at Tex and nods towards him. "Why don't you ask the hot head?"

"Agent Chicken Shit backed out of taking his soulmate to a wedding this weekend and asked me if I could take her instead." Tequila wrenches his arm out of Champ's firm grip, feeling like he's been caught breaking his brother's nose by his father all over again. "Knowing goddamn well that I—I'm in love with her." Saying it out loud makes him wish he could just storm back across the Statesman campus and explain everything to you. To beg you to believe and forgive him. But it's not his place. Not at all.

Jack snorts and rolls his eyes. "Wantin' to fuck ain't being 'in love'." Jack spits back, furious to hear those words out of his mouth and worse, he wonders if you feel the same way. It pisses him off and he wants to punch the righteous fucker in the nose for touching you.

"When have I ever punched you over wanting to fuck the same girl?" It's not as though they hadn't, after all, but Tequila still glowers at Jack across the desk.

"Can't recall you ever even using the word 'love' before," Champ comments, interested to see exactly how red in the face Jack is going to get.

His teeth are about to crack he's clenching his jaw so hard. Nearly growling at the way that Tequila flusters. Breathing heavily as the younger man turns towards Champ with a shrug of his shoulders. "Because I ain't felt it before." He admits, shaking his head. "But there's somethin' about her."

"She does seem to be a point of fascination." Champ's no fool. He hasn't missed Jack's attentions being centered on you, or Tequila's stolen glances. He hadn't missed the flirting - both intentional and not - and he had listened diligently to what Diana told him without over-divulging or betraying your confidence.

"She's a shiny new toy." Jack hisses, puffing up his chest and glaring at Tequila, ready to throw a few punches of his own considering what he's done. "He'll get tired of her, just like every other woman he's ever taken to bed."

"Look who's goddamn talking," Tequila hisses back. "Barely took you a week to get sick of her and without even the good manners to tell her you why."

"I was trying to PROTECT HER!" Jack roars, his own fist slamming down onto the table as he lashes out. Picking up the bottle of '87 and throwing it against the wall, shattering it and splashing whiskey over the walls.

"Alright, the both of you!" Champ doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't need to. The disapproval and the anger in it clear without needing more volume. "Tequila, you take your ass up to my office and you stay there until I come talk to you. I want both sides of this and it ain't gonna be clear with you shouting over each other like beasts."

Jack glowers, staring down Tequila as he marches out of his office and hisses as the door rattles on its hinges from the force of him slamming it shut behind him. "She didn't need to know." He defends roughly. "She doesn't need to know."

"What the hell happened?" Champ turns his eyes on Jack, knowing Tequila will do as he's been told and wondering what catalyst had pushed Jack to run the way he had. "You got embarrassed that Diana caught you in an amorous moment? That's nothin' to be ashamed of."

"She's NOT my soulmate!" Jack shouts, fury making spittle fly out of his mouth and his voice cracks in his desperation for someone to believe him. To convince himself.

"That's up to you." And Champ won't push him to admit otherwise. "But she's human. And she deserves a damn apology. Di said she was beside herself upset at you walkin' out, even if she hid it well. I can't imagine Tequila spurning her now is going to make her feel any better, although it ain't your fault the boy lost his nerve when he realized."

"He wants a soulmate." Jack mumbles, his shoulders rounding at the reminder that he had treated you abysmally. They had done a lot more than just been each other's wingman for picking up women over the years. There had been plenty of serious conversations between women and glasses of whiskey. "He's not going to be with someone else's if he knows them."

"So you thought letting him discover it on his own would...go smoother?" He's not even going to go into how jumpy Jack is being about his own attraction to you.

"How was I suppose' to know that the fucking idiot didn't know?" Jack huffs defensively. "I showed him the damn mark on my skin. It's not like the fucking things on her tit. I thought he saw it on her."

"Alright, alright." Champ shakes his head and groans, feeling like everybody's damn father and not for the first time. "I'll go deal with him, but you..." He could just order him to apologize. To walk over to your house right now and make things right. But he knows that won't actually help things, it will only make Jack dig his heels in harder. "Whether you're ready to tell her or not, she still deserves an apology."

"For what?" Jack spread his hands up helplessly before he props them on his hips. "For killin' her soulmate? For her being stuck with me? For kissin' her and running away? For keepin' it from her?" He asks, not sure which sin he has to ask forgiveness for.

"You gotta decide that yourself." He had just meant the bit about running off, but as long as Jack is willing to entertain the idea of actually telling you the truth, he's not going to discourage it.

"She deserves better, Champ." Jack murmurs quietly. "Better 'in me. Hell, better than the kid."

"That's not up to you to decide." Champ's voice is just as quiet, but far gentler. "It's up to her. And if she's rightfully pissed at the both of you after this week, then that's that. But at the very least, she should know that you didn't run off because of anything she did. Y'all are actin' in her best interest as far as you're concerned, but all she can see is two men makin' her feel good and then acting like she did wrong for following down the paths you set."

"Shit." Jack closes his eyes, pissed off at himself for being a fool and giving Tequila the opportunity to hurt your already bruised feelings. He should have just taken you.

"Clean up this mess," Champ points to the broken liquor bottle on the floor. "And then go clean up the one you made with her. I'll deal with Tequila."

Jack stares at him for a moment, nodding quietly before the older man turns around and leaves the office. Leaving Jack in the wake of the mess he had found himself in.

Champ heads down the hall with purpose, shaking his head at the ridiculous state his two agents have made of things. He knows he brought you here to be protected, but apparently he should have been protecting you from their dumb asses as well. Thankfully, Tequila is waiting in his office like he was ordered, leg bouncing with nerves but no damage done. "Alright," he huffs, shutting the door behind him. "Your turn."

"Now Champ..." Tequila springs to his feet, aware that he should have handled things better than he had, but he's mad. "Whiskey didn't tell me she was his soulmate. I wouldn't have gotten involved with her if he had of."

"Don't think I know that?" The boy's sense of propriety is usually aces, even if his common sense can lack. "That's not why you got put in time out, Tequila. I can't punish you for makin' a fool of yourself with a lady. Either of you. Even if you deserve it."

"Then why am I here?" There is an edge of defiance in his voice, residual anger from the entire ordeal.

"Because you attacked a senior agent without provocation." Champ tells him flatly. "And I can't be sure y'all won't piss each other off enough that it will happen again."

"He fucking deserved it, and you know it." Tequila argues, standing up and putting his hand on his hip.

"Not the point, son." He can't make a judgement call on this if he ever wants it to get resolved. "It's insubordination and you know it."

Tequila rolls his eyes and huffs before he begrudgingly acknowledges that what Champ is saying is true. "So what's my punishment?" He asks. "Week scrubbing the warehouse?"

"Manual labor ain't gonna prove a point to you." Champ knows that. The kid comes from honest labor and hard work. It rolls right off his shoulders. "You're gonna take an assignment for me. Give you time to cool off and separate yourself from our fascinating lady so you can cool the hell off."

Opening his mouth in protest immediately, he manages to catch himself before he says something. Closing his mouth and just standing there. He knows he deserves it, even if he doesn't say so.

“Kingsman proposed an agent swap about a month ago.” Moving around him, Champ motions to Tequila to sit before plopping down in the large wingback chair behind his desk. “Been debating who to send. Looks like you just gave me my answer.”

"What am I gonna do in London, Champ?" The Texan whines, giving his boss a horrified expression. "They don't know the first thing about ropin'."

“So you’ll teach ‘em.” The side drawer of Champ’s desk holds the folder of papers from Kingsman as they rebuild, and Champ flips it open to skim through the paperwork. “Change of scenery and company might do ya some good, Tequila.” He glances up with one eyebrow half-raised. “After an apology.”

"I'm not apologizing to that fucker." He doesn't care how long Champs sends him to 'Merry ol' London', he will never apologize to Whiskey for belting him like he deserved.

"Not to him." Champ nearly laughs, but he catches himself. He's meant to be angry. A disciplinarian. At least for right now. "To her. She didn't ask for any of this shit."

"I can't apologize without telling her why I backed away." He reasons with Champ. "If that asshole had just manned up, this wouldn't be an issue."

Seeing as he can't actually argue with that, Champ sits back in his chair and eyes Tequila for a second before he lets an approving nod escape. "At least tell her you're goin' and that it has nothin' to do with her. Don't let her hear it third hand and wonder what the hell she might have done to make both of you run." He's gonna have to pay a visit to you himself, he thinks, and make sure you get something nice for the restaurant or let you hire a second-in-command, or something. Anything. Just to make sure you don't resign and he loses the ability to protect you.

Tequila nods and shuffles his feet slightly. "I'll go over there now and explain." He mumbles. "But it might have to be through a door. She's really fuckin' mad at me because I wouldn't tell her where I'd seen her tattoo."

"Can't say I blame her." Hell, if he were a woman, he'd have given them both far more hell than you seem to. "Do what you gotta go tonight. You're on the jet no later than 0900 tomorrow morning."

"Yes sir." Tequila nods once and turns on his heel. He needs to apologize to you before he goes; and put these feelings that he has for you to bed. There can't be a future with you. Not when Jack wears your tattoo.

******

The bath was a good idea, and you bundle up in clean pajamas after crying your damn eyes out and throw on an extra sweatshirt for comfort. You toss a bowl of leftover chili into the microwave and hunt down the bag of tortilla chips to eat it with, figuring you’ll turn on a movie and try to forget that the rest of the world exists.

Tequila decides that it would better to walk over to your place rather than pull up in your driveway. Walking along the way until he is standing on your porch and sighing softly. Hesitating for a moment before he reaches out and knocks on your door. Anticipating that you won't even answer.

“Fucking hell…” Muttering under your breath all the way to the front door, you check the peak hole before opening it and end up groaning. “What do you want, Tex?” He’s the actual last person you want to see right now, but if he’s got an explanation you want to hear it.

“I—” Tex shifts on his heels and reaches up to rub the back of neck in embarrassment. “I owe you an apology.”

Yes. He certainly goddamn does. You pull open the door halfway and look up at him expectantly. “How about an explanation, while you’re at it.”

"That's where you're gonna be mad at me." He bites his lips and shrugs. "It's not— I can't tell you who but I can tell you that I've seen that mark on someone I know. And I—I didn't know when I went after you."

“Unless it’s one of your brothers or something, I can’t see what the big deal is.” Having decided, over the course of the last few hours, that he’s probably lying to try to get out of a relationship, you just shrug your shoulders. “Fine. It is what it is.”

"Believe me...I wish I could tell you." He sighs. "I— I came to apologize because I'm being punished." He grunts. "Being sent overseas on an assignment."

“What did you do to get punished for?” That intrigues you enough to step back, leaving the front door open for him to come inside. He’s rowdy, sure, but you can’t see him being brash enough to put his job in the line. He loves his job.

"I punched someone." Tequila grumbles quietly, his brow furrowing, and he won't admit that his hand is aching. Jack Daniels has a fucking jaw of steel. "In front of Champ."

“And he’s banishing you to another country for it?” First of all, it’s news to you that Statesman even operates in other countries. But who the hell could garner that kind of punishment for something that— It’s like the entire world stops spinning for a second, screeching to a halt as you stand in your foyer next to one frustrating cowboy realizing the entire conversation just turns back around to a second one who is even more frustrating. Your eyes snap up to Tex’s, wide and full of so much shock that it’s nearly embarrassing. Because the second you put the pieces together, it couldn’t have been clearer. “Jack…” His name is barely better than a murmur, but it’s firm. “It’s Jack. Isn’t it?”

Of course you would figure it out. Not only are you funny, beautiful, and talented in many, many ways; you are also smart. Probably a hell of a lot smarter than he is. Your eyes betray your feelings, the stunned anguish in them, and the hurt that you are feeling shining out at him. It makes him want to pull you into his arms and comfort you. But it isn't his place to do that, and he's already hurt himself by getting involved with you. It would just make it harder to let go of you. "I can't tell you who." He shakes his head and sighs. "Just please, please believe me. I never wanted to hurt you."

You never wanted to think he was lying, but now that you know who it is that’s wearing your mark, you can see why he backed off immediately. That’s his mentor. One of his closest friends. And while Jack running off might have been a shitty thing to do, that now makes a lot more sense, too. “Maybe when you come back, we can try hanging out again?” It’s a weird situation for anyone to be in, but you do enjoy his company. “Just as friends?”

Tequila swallows, knowing that it might be hard for him for a while but he nods, giving you a small smile. "I'd like that darlin'." He admits softly. "I-I wish it could be more, but I know you woulda gotten tired of my ass." He jokes, not wanting to make it awkward, but he does want you to know that he had been serious with his intentions. "I'm sorry for ruinin' the brunch."

“I told everybody you were too hungover,” you smirk, already knowing that that is the ultimate blow to his manhood as a Statesman employee. But you were plenty mad this morning and didn’t care.

"Shit." Tequila hisses, shaking his head as he absorbs that blow. "I deserve that, but damn, you pack a low blow."

“Not sorry.” And you won’t pretend to be, either. You meant it when you told him you don’t play games. “But…it does suck that you’ll be gone for a while. Try not to fuck up too much shit wherever you’re going, okay?”

"I'll be alright, darlin'." He boasts confidently. "They should be worried about me."

“I’ll be sure to call and warn them, then.” You laugh softly, shaking your head, and one hand unconsciously rests on your front door.

He's smart enough to take the hint, nodding politely at you and takes a step back. "Well, I'm gotta go pack and I'm sure you're wantin' your peace back, so...I'll see you, darlin'." He offers, tipping his hat to you at the edge of the stairs.

There’s no use telling him that you had fun before this morning. If he actually liked you it will just be cruel and if he didn’t it just makes you sound clingy, so you say good night and shut the door, sighing to yourself as you pace back to the kitchen. That bowl of chili is already getting cold after being heated up, and you’re going to need several drinks to digest the information you’ve just been handed.

Jack.

Jack is your soulmate. Your second soulmate, which is supposed to be impossible. Why? How? Who the fuck even has answers to something like that?

******

Jack moves slower than molasses as he starts to clean up the mess he had made with his temper. The mess he had made of your life was going to take a little time and finesse. He doesn't know what to say. The anger and jealousy swirling in his gut at learning that you had slept with Tequila had surprised him, but he can't fault you when he had practically thrust the boy into your arms. Taking an hour to make his office spotless again, Jack leaves the Statesman offices to start walking back to the cabins to talk to you.

After dinner you stack up the dishwasher and grab one of the key lime tartlets from the test batch you made on Friday, curling up under your blanket on the couch with the second half of your movie and a second glass of spiked lemonade. Relaxation won’t come no matter how hard you try, though, and as if encouraged by your own restlessness - the doorbell rings again.

“Coming.” You call out, grumbling to yourself as you get up, only to deflate when you open the door. “Jack…” You hadn’t expected this, honestly. You thought it was Tex again for some unknown reason or other. “H—hi.”

"Hey, sugar." It's a chicken shit move, to pretend like nothing happened, but the way his eyes light up when he sees you isn't something he can control. "How are you doing?"

“Um…well, honestly I’ve been better.” Shifting in your doorway, you step to the side to let him in and clear your throat before cautiously pointing to the bruise blooming on his jaw. “But I think you have it worse at the moment.”

Jack snorts and shakes his head. "Nah, barely felt this." He lies, his jaw aching and he swears that Tequila loosened a few teeth. He shoots you a grin that is less confident than it appears and scrubs his hands up and down his thighs. "Can I come in, talk?" He doesn't blame you if you say no, but he wants to at least try.

“That’s…probably a good idea.” While you doubt that Tex went back and told him that you might have figured things out, you want to hear it from Jack. Either confirmed or denied, whatever the truth is. This man owes you the truth and an apology and that is the very least of it.

Jack steps into the cabin and lets you close the door behind him. Nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, he turns towards you to see where you want to do this. He's in your territory and is willing to follow your lead.

"Do you want a drink?" It's a compulsory thing, always feeling like you should at least offer a drink to someone who's going to stay more than five minutes.

"I don't think you want to give me a drink, sugar. But I appreciate it." He would actually love a stiff drink, but he's not going to impose on you more than he has to.

"If you came to apologize, you get a drink." The nervous way he shifts has you worried, but you smile despite your churning stomach. "If not? I guess...just say what you came to say? I don't know, Jack. This whole thing is very awkward and I'm trying to figure out how to make it less so."

"Then I guess you better pour us a double, sugar." Jack mumbles, not quite meeting your eyes. The eyes that have haunted him for the entire week that he's stayed away from you.

"Come on in." Nodding to the living room, you disappear back to the kitchen for a second to grab a glass and the open bottle from your counter. He idles by the armchair beside your couch so you put the bottle down on the coffee table after you've poured him a drink, and hand him the glass. Your own drink is sufficiently spiked, you hope, for whatever he has to say. At least Tex already accidentally dropped the biggest bomb that might come up in conversation.

"I— hell." Jack takes a nervous gulp of his whiskey and sighs. "I owe you a large apology, sugar." He starts out. "I've acted like a tee-total ass and I regret that. I've hurt you; I know I have and I never meant to."

"Well...thank you." It being the second time tonight that you've heard something like that, you have to admit that the hole in your heart made by Jack's cruelty was much larger. Maybe that's something you ought to be ashamed of, but it's just how you feel. "I feel like there's more, though?" Even if you didn't know there was, the way he shifts his eyes all around the room to everywhere but you would have been a giveaway.

Damn you’re intuitive. Or Tequila ran his big fucking mouth. Both of those could be true. He sighs and taps his fingers against his knee and contemplates what to tell you. "Yeah." He admits quietly. almost inaudible.

"Do you...maybe want to start with why you ghosted me after we kissed?" After grappling with that one for an entire week on your own, you'd like an actual answer. A real, honest, from him answer.

"You scare me." The words fall from his tongue easier than he imagined them. Tumbling out quickly and earnestly. Truthfully. He rocks his jaw and nods. "You scare me, sugar."

That makes you huff, shifting in place on the sofa nervously. "Can't quite see the logic in that," you admit, tapping your fingers on the glass in your hands and smearing the condensation in ugly patterns. "Since you kicked the asses of a half dozen bikers the day we met and I couldn't even do that in my wildest dreams."

"Not that kinda scared, sugar." Jack chuckles at your logic, unable to find the fault with it and is a little pleased with himself for that fight still. "I'm meanin' that it's— it's complicated." He settles for that. "I didn't mean to hurt you because of it though."

"Jack..." The sigh that escapes you is nearly a groan. Or at least something bordering frustrated. "I don't think it's a secret that I like you, okay? I wouldn't have kissed you back if I didn't. I just...even if this - whatever this was - ends here? I just need you to be honest with me. Whatever the truth is, whether it's hard or easy or complicated or simple. I just...I need you to show me that much respect."

"Okay." Jack agrees to that easily enough, nodding his head and waiting for you to continue.

"For the record." The shifting seems to be endless, and you close your eyes for a second against the nerves. "Tex didn't say anything. He kept his mouth shut and protected you. I put two and two together myself." Glancing up at him, you have to remind yourself to breathe. "Will you show me your arm? Please?"

Jack's mouth is suddenly drier than the Sahara desert. Closing his eyes for a moment before he nods and stands up. He will have to roll up his sleeves or take the damn thing off. He shrugs out of his jacket and unbuttons his sleeve. "You are smart, sugar. Don't doubt that."

"I never do." It might be the wrong time to be sassy, but the response is automatic. Your mouth is dry as dirt by the time Jack rolls up the sleeve of his plaid shirt, and it's only partially because watching a man roll up his sleeve is like having a woman put on a push up bra as far as sex appeal goes. The first glimpse of your own tattoo on his skin steals any breath you had left in your body, and you swear you're lightheaded at the actual sight of it. Your mark on someone else's body. It's enough to make you break right down and cry, but you have a feeling that wouldn't exactly help the situation.

The cat is out of the bag, and Jack shows you the marks that are on his skin briefly before he starts to roll his sleeve down again. "Now you know why you scare me." He is leaving a hell of a lot out, but it's a truth you might be able to swallow.

"It's supposed to be impossible." Even with evidence, you have to keep yourself from reaching out and touching his skin just to prove to yourself that it's not make up or Sharpie or something.

"It is impossible." Jack tells you, shaking his head at the entire situation and reaches for his drink.

"Obviously not." It definitely does explain some things. Like the way the two of you can't seem to stay away from each other even when he was obviously not wanting to be around you.

"It damn sure is when I killed your original soulmate." Jack snaps out without even thinking about how those words would land.

"You what?" The glass in your hand goes crashing to the floor, cracking and spilling bourbon and lemonade in every direction but you can't do anything but stare at him: wide eyed and terrified and more confused than you've ever felt in your life. "Wh-wha—you—?" The tears pricking at your eyes are a surprise, but only because you never considered that this would ever be a sentence you would hear in your life.

"Fuck." Jack hisses, realizing he's stuck his ass all the way in the fire and the only way he's going to get out is to tell you everything. "Sugar, I— Statesman— is an independence intelligence agency. I am an agent. The last op I was on, he - your soulmate - was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Innocent bystander." He tells you bitterly. "I killed a civilian by accident."

The blatancy of it nearly knocks you over, to the point where the tears spill over unfiltered. "Fuck off, Jack." You hear your own voice, full of anger for the second time today. "I asked you to be honest with me."

"I am being honest with you!" Jack growls, pissed off that you don't believe him. "How do you think I took on a half dozen men without a scratch? Do you need to have it confirmed?"

"Sure. Confirm it for me. Why the fuck not." You might as well be rolling your eyes at him, and maybe it's childish, but you're sick of being disappointed. Especially so many times in one week.

"Ginger." Jack speaks up, knowing that saying her name will activate his communication link in his watch. "Lock down my soulmate's cabin." He orders. "Code Orange."

There is a brief pause and Astrid's voice comes through the built-in speakers in your cabin. "Roger Jack, Code Orange." Immediately, the soft lights of the lamps switch off and bright emergency lights flicker on. The door lock flips and there is a mechanical whirling as solid metal shutters roll down over your windows and door. The bookcase that you have stuffed with cookbooks in the little breakfast nook pops open, showing an opening behind it that will lead to a safe room.

"What the fuck?" Jumping backward further into the sofa, you curl in on yourself as the lights beat down on you and the windows cover with steel. The bookcase in the corner makes you flinch again, and you look around like you're trying to figure out where the cameras are that are filming this prank. "W-was that...Astrid?"

"Astrid's codename at work is Ginger Ale." Jack tells you. "Just like my codename is Whiskey. Agent Whiskey. It's also the reason why I have no tattoos or scars on my body. No identifying marks."

"Because you're..." Searching for the word, you can't even find a real-world scenario in which you've ever said it before without referring to fiction or a game. "A—a spy?"

"I guess that's the easiest way to look at it." Jack nods.

"What's...that?" The door behind your bookcase is a special kind of scary. That shit only happens in movies or when it's a bomb shelter.

"It's a safe room." Jack provides. "A place where you can go in the case of an emergency. So you are safe from harm. Nothing short of a nuke would get you in there."

Stock still with equal parts shock and the need to process all the information you've been given in the last three minutes, you gulp inelegantly and wipe one hand down your face. "So..." It's a whole lot all at once and you stare forward when you open your eyes again. "You...after..." Deep breath. "How?" You ask finally, not really knowing how to ask about someone's murder.

"Your real soulmate was a chef." Jack tells you quietly. "He was on the loading dock of the Whitney smoking a cigarette." He knows you will recognize the hotel as the one you had just left. Another reason why he couldn't go to that damn wedding reception since he had just had a shootout there. "I saw a gun and I just...reacted." He admits quietly, staring down at his hands because he can't look up and face the blame he knows he will see in your eyes. "There were two men on that dock, one innocent and one trying to kill me. And I took them both out."

"So you just...got it? Just like that?" It doesn't make sense, but it's not like anyone really knows how soulmates get chosen in the first place. "Y-you shot him and got me as a prize?"

"I'm guessin'." That part has him stumped so he just gives a small shrug. "Lucky you."

"Shit..." Neither one of you can look at each other, but the flood lights and steel shutters are sure to attract attention, and you clear your throat softly. "Can you...um...make it go back to normal?"

"Oh shit, uh yeah." Jack shakes his head and speaks again. "Ginger, Code Green. Repeat, Code Green. All clear." He knows that she knows that there wasn't an emergency, but it was still protocol to use the codes.

"Thanks." The weight of reality feels exhaustively heavy on your shoulders, but you press your thumbs into your eyes and sigh. "So..." It's getting to be too much to process but the conversation just isn't anywhere near over. "So, what does this mean?"

“I don’t understand.” Jack admits, not sure if he’s getting what you are asking. “What does what mean?”

"Well, we're—we're soulmates." Whether either of you likes it, or the circumstances, is beyond the point. It is what it is and all you can do is deal with it.

“You don’t want to be my soulmate, sugar.” Jack promises you. “My soulmate has been dead and gone for a long time.” The guilt of her death weighs heavily on him.

"I'm not trying to replace her." The thought actually appalls you, knowing that plenty of other people might try to do just that. "She was your wife, I just—" When you finally muster enough courage to look at him, he won't meet your eyes. It's all at once that any hope you might have had shatters, and you remind yourself that he killed the man you were supposed to love with all your heart. "I just want to know if you're gonna keep ignoring my existence or not."

“You’re here, aren’t you, sugar?” Jack answers glibly. “If I was going to ignore your existence that wouldn’t be the case.” He doesn’t mention that Champ was the one who found you and brought you here. “You’ll be safe.”

"Safe isn't the same as—" You shake your head before that word can come out of your mouth. "Okay. I'm safe. And you won't ignore me. Fine." The wave of bitter disappointment that rips through you is angry and you hate it, but it's overwhelming. "So why exactly did you scare Tex off if your top thought is safe?"

“I didn’t scare Tex off.” He is immediately pissy at the idea that you would want that boy. “He came in yelling about marks and punching me in the jaw when I damn sure showed him the new fucking marks on my body.”

"Yeah, you showed him, but you didn't tell him who I am." That might be what stings the most. That he didn't acknowledge you in any way whatsoever until he was forced to. "He nearly had a panic attack in the shower this morning and I got to cry my eyes out for the second time this week."

The pain of knowing he made you cry is like a swift, sharp knife to the chest. “What was I supposed to tell ‘im?” Jack demands. “The girl who will hate my guts when she learns the truth is my soulmate? Or better yet, the universe decided that despite me being unable to protect my real soulmate it’s given me the soulmate of the man I killed as a laugh.”

"Right, but I'm safe here?" Just because you have no idea what he's talking about doesn't mean you're not still upset, and you can fire back just as nastily as he can. It makes you feel like you're being torn apart at the edges, so why not just lash out? Surely that will help.

"Yeah, you are." Jack huffs, not sure exactly what you expect from him. "You've got a job you said you always dreamed of, a house to call your own, and all the security that Statesman can provide you." He holds his arms up and then drops them down onto his hips and stares at you. "What else do you want?"

“Someone to spend my life with.” It’s what you’ve always wanted. More than anything. And getting every other dream in the world without someone to love who loves you with equal ferocity just feels like a slap in the face. You have a career and security, but not love. And that makes the other two things just seem lonely.

"I like you, sugar." Jack admits quietly. "I really do. But that ain't me." He doesn't say anything more than that, knowing it's not necessary. His life ended the day it began ironically enough, he's just been a dead man walking ever since.

“I’m starting to get that.” He’s clear and honest about it, you have to at least give him that. But it still feels like he picked up that broken glass from the rug and sliced your chest straight open to get at your heart. Like the universe replaced your real soulmate with a security guard, not a partner. And you still don’t even know why the fuck you need a security guard.

“I’m sorry.” Jack tells you, hating the way the light has just vanished from your eyes and he wants to rush across the room and pull you into his arms. But he doesn’t move. “I wish it could be different, but…” he shakes his head again and stares at his belt buckle. “We don’t always get what we want.”

“Clearly.” The word is choked and bitter, you know it is, because what you want is sitting right in front of you telling you that you can’t have him. This could be easy. Or at least less complicated. It could be so many things that aren’t this. Instead, Jack is sitting there telling you that you’ll never have the most basic and cherished thing in the world. Love. “I’ll just…try not to get in your way, I guess.”

“I’d like us to be friends, sugar.” Jack shuffles slightly and manages to look up at you. “But I understand if you can’t.” You don’t answer him and the ache in his chest gets heavier, prompting him to move towards the door. “I’ll let you be. I’m really sorry.” He whispers. “For everything.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you around.” It’s a dismissal. Maybe even a cruel one. But right now you’re feeling so defeated that you don’t even care. You just want to be alone - a state you’re apparently going to have to get used to.

Out on the porch, Jack wonders why you taking his refusal so easily stings. Wondering if he wanted you to fight, even though it would do nothing but hurt you. He knocks on the front porch pillar as he starts down the stairs slowly to walk to his own house. “See you around, sugar.”

The floodgates open as soon as the door shuts behind him, giving you the freedom and the privacy to weep as openly and as long as you need. As horrifying and complicated as everything is turning out to be, you would have been so glad to love Jack. To get to know him and grow with him and find out what smooths those sharp edges. You would have loved to love him. To have that privilege would have been extraordinary.

But you’ve been dumped before you ever knew what you had. So who knows what will happen next?

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73    

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack Whiskey Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Kingsman Golden Circle #soulmate au #love triangle #Tequila x reader #Channing Tatum

[simsjayla]

jake - surprise!

part 1 (sort of)

jake - 23

jake x pregnant! reader

genre: fluff, a little angst

warnings: vomiting, pee, pregnancy, small mention of a breeding kink

to say you and jake weren’t necessarily trying for a baby would be a lie after finding out about his breeding kink, it would be hard to say that this wasn’t bound to happen at some point and now here you are, in the en-suite bathroom of yours and jake’s bedroom, pregnancy test in hand.

it all started when you woke up at 6am last week with the need to vomit. jake also woke up when he felt you move his arm from around his waist. he followed you straight to the bathroom as heard the sound of you throwing up, one hand slowly rubbing your back softly whilst the other one held your hair back in a messy ponytail. your period was a day late but you blamed it on stress. well that was until this became a recurring thing every morning.

you awoke from your daydream as the alarm went off, signalling that it was time to look at the pregnancy test you had previously peed on, your hands shook as you slowly turned the test over in your hands, your eyes immediately filled with tears as you saw a bold positive sign on the plastic stick.

what would jake say? would he be happy? would be leave you? would he be upset? angry? you were pulled out of your negative thoughts when the front door opened meaning jake was home from work. jake was at the highest in his idol career he’s ever been, with you and him only being 23 with only a couple of conversations about having kids in the coming future. you were worried, scared to the say the least.

“baby, i’m home,” jake’s sweet voice rang in your eyes but you couldn’t bring yourself to reply as tears poured from your eyes. would this be the end for you and him? “baby, where are you?” jake called out. “in the en-suite,” you managed to reply quietly, your voice cracking between words. he quickly came to the door of the en-suite. “can i come in angel?” this is it. no holding back. “yeah…”

he slowly opened the door to see your face painted with tears, your makeup slightly smudged. he came to sit next to you on the tile floor before taking you to sit in his lap. “what’s wrong my love?” he asked softly into your shoulder as he delicately kissed the revealed skin there. “i- i have something to tell you…” you said between stutters and sniffles. “you know you can tell me anything sweetest?” you nod slowly before taking a deep breath and quickly saying. “i’m pregnant,”

jake’s jaw fell wide open as his eyes lit up. he placed you back on the tile floor ever so lightly and grabbed ahold of your shaky hands. “are you sure?” you nod and passed him the positive pregnancy test. tears rolled down his cheeks as he giggled at the test. he placed it back on the counter before connecting your lips in a passionate kiss before slowly pulling away to look at you.

“why are crying darling? this is a good thing,” jake asked you, looking into your glassy eyes. “i- i was worried you wouldn’t want this yet, i mean you’re at the peak of your career.” “angel girl, this is the best news i’ve ever heard.” his eyes teared up again as he giggled sweetly and placed one of his hands on your stomach as he rubbed small circles on it. “we’re gonna have a baby together, this is amazing,”

you embraced him in a hug, both of you a sobbing mess, but this time with happy tears as the realisation that you two were going to be parents kicked in. “i love you so much angel, and our little one.” he whispered into your ear as he stroked your hair lovingly.

let’s just say you didn’t need to worry, now you know that jake is going to be the best most loving dad. this was the best surprise he’s ever had.

#jake sim #enhypen #dad!enhypen #jake fluff #sim jaeyun