#//ignore me as i clean this out like 6 days late

[enarmor]

Sneaking (not very well) underneath the tables, Honk clambers over people's feet as he snuffles around for any dropped tidbit. He doesn't find much, but there's a flash of movement up ahead that catches the young pup's attention. He cocks his head to the side as he crawls closer, tail wagging back and forth slowly as he watches someone kick two other people under the table.

One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.

One set of legs leaves after another kick, but the other shifts and then a hand catches the boot from across the table. One quick, forceful yank later, and there was a person partially under the table!

With an excited yap, Honk joins in, making a very uncoordinated leap at the man that had been yanked. If it weren't for the fact that Sain had been yanked down a bit, the pup would have just bounced off his legs, but there's enough of a slant that Honk could dig his claws in and try to climb up into his lap.

Yeah, he'll feel that in the morning.

Raymond's hand is strong, because he rips Sain so blindingly from his seat that his tailbone crashes against the floor. He'd swear he heard a crack, too, if it weren't for the immediate distraction sent his way.

"H-Huh?" he gasps, holding himself up with one gloved palm, "Were you under here this whole time...?"

Not one to look this gift dog in the mouth, Sain accepts Honk into his lap. He struggles enough to guide him with his other hand, gently brushing down his head in a long & soft petting motion.

"Who's your owner, little guy? Ah! I bet it must be a gorgeous young lady. Perhaps she'll thank me for taking such great care of you!"

Oh Sain, you've struck gold with this one. The Lance scoops the pup up using both his underarms, emerging from the table not just with throbbing pain, but a new friend, too.

"Right then! Let's get going, you and I. We have women to woo!"

[parkerflix]

—cielo en la mente

miles morales x gn!reader

genre: fluff, angst

wc: 4.5k

synopsis: miles morales had you seeing double. but what if it wasn’t your eyes playing tricks?

warnings: atsv spoilers! canon divergence

taglist: CLOSED as of 6/19!

part of my 1k celebration! & part two to this fic!

You had been ignoring Miles lately. It wasn’t that you wanted to see him, but you were confused. Nothing seemed to make sense, or add up.

You sighed, sweeping up the last of the hair on the ground. You mom had already packed up and gone home, telling you to finish the last of the cleaning while she got dinner ready. You went over to the wash bowls, rinsing the hair brushes from the barbicide.

The front door had been locked, and music was playing from the speakers. A bang came from the front door, and you turned around to see Miles standing there.

His hair was out of braids again, and he seemed to be wearing the baggiest jeans and sweater you’d ever seen. He waved at you awkwardly, and you walked over, standing in front of the lock. His eyes were pleading with you to open the door, and you sighed, knowing you wouldn’t be able to leave him outside.

You unlocked the door & opened it so he could come inside. The silence between the two of you was awkward, but neither one of you knew what to say.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

You fiddled with the keys, and went to lock the door, stopping when he asked you a question.

“Could you do my hair? Please?”

It was such a simple question, but it still caught you off guard. Miles normally never asked you to do his hair, he’d just show up during regular hours or text you in the middle of the night and you’d do his hair in your room.

You steeled yourself, and nodded.

“Yeah. Follow me.”

Miles quietly followed you to the washbowls, and sat down at a clean one.

“Do you want me to use a different shampoo & conditioner?”

He was quiet for a moment,

“Can you use the ones you like the most?”

You hummed in agreement and pulled the mint scented shampoo and conditioner. You eyed the deep conditioning treatment, and grabbed that off the shelf.

Returning back to Miles, you leaned his head back into the wash bowl before starting the water.

“Let me know if it’s too hot or cold, okay?”

“Ah!”

You quickly turned off the water and panicked before you heard Miles let out a laugh.

“I was joking. The water is fine.”

You started up the water again and flicked some towards his face.

“Ack!”

“That’s what you get for scaring me like that!”

You both laughed, and soon it turned into a comfortable silence. Grabbing the shampoo, you made sure to lather his hair & rise it out. Miles was secretly a cry baby when he got shampoo in his eyes, so you covered his eyes with your hand.

Grabbing the deep conditioning treatment, you placed it in his hair, making sure to really get his roots. His hair had definitely seen better days, and you were confused how it got to this state when you were the last one to do his hair.

You finished with the deep conditioning treatment and went on with the regular conditioner, the minty scent hitting your nose as the cap opened.

“Smells good.”

Miles had been quiet up until now, and you genuinely thought he had fallen asleep.

“Yeah. Mint.”

He hummed.

“I like it, it seems to be very you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the comment, and nodded, knowing he couldn’t see you nodding.

You rinsed the last of the conditioner out of his hair, and wrapped it in a towel, tapping his shoulder to let him know you were done.

He opened his eyes and stretched out, reminding you of a cat.

“That was nice. You should do this as a profession, I think it would suit you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Har har. You act like I haven’t been doing your hair and the neighbor’s hair since I could walk.”

Miles gave you a small smile and walked over to your station.

You got your tray ready with all your supplies, not noticing Miles was watching you.

You were different from Miles. He wasn’t sure if you existed in his universe, but he hoped that there was a version of you, hopefully near him. He had seen how you treated him, so gentle but had an edge with your words. He wondered what his counterpart in this universe meant to you.

“You know,” he started, catching your attention when he paused.

“You’re pretty special. You have a cool heart.” Miles inwardly cringed at that, wondering what the hell a cool heart could be.

“Mmm. Thanks.”

“Also, thanks for doing my hair.”

You nodded, ignoring the way something in your stomach flipped.

Miles was never one to outwardly express his gratitude, he was always the type to just show his gratitude and appreciation in smaller ways. He was more reserved with his words in that sense, and this change was different to you.

The rest of time you were doing his hair was relatively quiet, Miles asking you small questions here and there. You enjoyed the atmosphere, happy that you got to spend some quiet time with him.

You finally finished the braids after a little while, showing him the end result. It was the same style that you had done before, but you just thought he looked good in them.

Miles got up from the chair, and got closer to the mirror to inspect them.

He looked at himself in the mirror, unable to shake off a feeling of happiness that swam through him. His hair had never really been in braids before, it was something that he just assumed didn’t suit him, but here he was. He could tell that you put so much effort and love into them, it made his heart swell with joy.

He turned to you, and engulfed you in a hug. He wasn’t one to be affectionate with people he just met, but there was something about you that drew him in, and made him comfortable.

You froze for a second, before hugging him back, ignoring the nudging questions at the back of your mind.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

You had asked Miles that day if he wanted to come over for dinner, but had declined and said he had a few things to do. You understood, but felt a little sad that he wasn’t going to come over.

The rest of the night had gone by pretty unceremoniously, giving you time to think about Miles and his weird behavior.

You sighed and texted him, seeing if he was willing to meet you for breakfast in the morning at your spot. He quickly responded with a yes, and a small pit of anxiety formed in your stomach, nervous for the morning.

The next morning your alarm went off and you groaned, not wanting to get up. Turning your alarm off, you closed your eyes for a moment, before remembering you were meeting Miles for breakfast.

Swearing under your breath, you quickly got up and threw on a sweater and jeans, not even bothering to worry about anything else.

Your mom seemed to still be asleep, so you slipped out of the front door, quickly switching your slippers for shoes at the door.

Your spot wasn’t far from either of your houses, and the walk was always nice in the mornings.

Yosi’s diner was the place that you’d been going to even since you were little kids, back when there were 5 of you coming. Even after your parents stopped coming, you and Miles made it a tradition to only have breakfast there. It held memories of you guys sharing good news, and bad.

Miles had seen you cry because a date had stood you up the night before, and you had been his support when his dad passed. Yosi’s diner meant everything to you both.

You finally made your way to the entrance, the flickering sign feeling like a signal that you were home. Opening the door, the soft tinkling of the bell along with the smell of pie placed a smile on your face.

Yosi was standing behind the counter, telling one of the servers some instructions. She was slightly older than you & Miles, with an aura that made everyone comfortable around her. Her parents had opened the diner, naming it after her when they found the place, hoping for her to inherit it.

She glanced at you and smiled. Shooing away the server, she rounded the corner of the counter and came to give you a hug.

“It’s so good to see you! Donde estabas escondida? It feels like I haven’t seen you in so long.”

You chuckled, embracing her.

“I’m sorry. El salón está tan ocupado, toda la gente quiere su pelo arreglado. I’m sure quiñce season is right around the corner.”

She laughed a parted from you, turning her head to the booth at the end of the right side of the diner.

“He’s been waiting for you.”

You hummed.

“He’s in a mood, good luck.” She walked away after that, going back into the kitchen.

You took a deep breath and walked over to the booth. Miles had been watching you since you walked in, eyes never leaving you until you sat down.

“You’re late.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We never agreed on a time.”

“We always meet at the same time.”

Before he could respond, food came to your table, your usual and his usual.

He always got the same chocolate chip pancakes with some whipped cream and a few cherries on them. He never mentioned it, but you knew he got it because his dad used to get them and share with him. You assumed it helped him feel closer to his dad, and understood it was his way.

Both of you tucked into your food, not saying anything until he broke the ice.

“So, que quieres?”

“Damn, what’s with the attitude?”

“There’s no attitude here mamí, just asking a question.” He said, taking a big bite of his pancakes.

You dropped your cutlery, glaring at him.

“Seriously, qué te pasa? What the hell did I do to deserve this weird ass mood?”

Miles didn’t want to say what he was thinking, but he was jealous. He hadn’t seen you in forever, and he had passed by the salon the night before, seeing you doing someone else’s hair when you were closed. He could tell that you seemed comfortable with whoever the guy was, your smile the same you normally only gave him. He hated feeling this way, especially because you weren’t huge on jealousy. Previous partners of yours always were jealous of Miles, and you’d go to him and tell him how annoying it was, not knowing they had reason to feel jealous. He knew you better than anyone, and he wasn’t shy to show it.

“Nothing.”

You raised a brow, not buying his words.

He glanced up at you, seeing your eyes already trained on his face.

“What?”

“Seriously, what’s with you?”

“Nothing, mamí. How was your night last night?” He had hoped that switching up the topic would divert your attention.

“Well, mi mama hizo pupusas, she left some for you. She missed you at dinner, you know.”

“I miss your mom too. Tell her I’ll try to come over one of these days for dinner. Did you miss me at dinner?”

Your face heated up slightly, and you cleared your throat.

“I-no.”

Miles’ face had a huge grin on it, and you knew you were in trouble for it.

“Oh so you did miss me? Mamí, if you miss me that much, you always know where my house is, we could remedy that.” He winked at you, making you roll your eyes.

“First of all, you know I hate when you call me mamí. Makes me feel like those groupies Jaime has. Secondly, you wish I missed you. I haven’t climbed up your window since you decided you'd rather spend everyday with me, papi.”

He laughed at that, he knew you knew he hated being called papi by anyone but his mom. Somehow, whatever tension that had grown between you two had dispersed and left you both pushing away any budding feelings. The rest of breakfast had gone without addressing it anymore, and Miles was thankful.

When it was time for the bill to come, Miles stopped you before you could even pull your card out. You thanked him, and he waved you off, not too worried about it.

“Well, thanks for breakfast.” You said, grabbing your things and getting ready to leave.

“Can I walk you home?”

You nodded and you both got out of the booth, waving bye to Yosi when you left the building.

“So, what’s with the gentleman act?”

Miles clutched his chest like he was wounded and gave you the saddest look he could muster.

“Amor, cómo puedes decir eso? I’m always a gentleman.”

You pushed him slightly, making him burst out into a fit of laughter.

“The only time I’ve seen you be a gentleman was when you were dating that cute enby.”

“Which one?”

“The one with glasses??? God, I can’t remember their name but they really were like your polar opposite, I have no clue how you managed to date them.”

Miles thought about it, and nodded his head.

“Ah, I know who you’re talking about. They were cool. Liked science, and wanted to major in it. We still talk now and then.”

“Mírate, keeping friends who aren’t just me! Rio should be proud.”

“You’re annoying, you know that?”

“Yet you still hang out with me. Admit it, me amas.”

You were too busy looking around the neighborhood to notice Miles’ face get flustered, and he shrugged it off, knowing you didn’t have any hidden meaning behind it.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m stuck with you.”

You glanced at him and smiled, before realizing you guys had already made it to your apartment building.

“Well, this is me. Te veo mañana?”

He nodded and you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking into your building.

Once you had disappeared into the building, Miles groaned and ran his hand down his face. His feelings for you were going to be the death of him.

The next day you regrettably had school.

Both you and Miles went to different schools, him getting into Visions and you going to the local highschool.

You slipped into your uniform, never quite getting used to how annoying the polo shirt looked on you. Fixing your hair a bit, you ran to grab your shoes from the doorway before Miles showed up.

Your mom was sitting at the dining room table, sipping a cup of coffee watching you frantically grab all of your stuff for the day.

“Llevaste comida?”

You grabbed an apple from the counter & a couple bucks off your piggy bank in your room.

“Yeah, totally.”

“Don’t be lying to me. No puedes ir sin comer, te vas a enfermar.”

“I’m not! I’ll see you when I come home?”

She nodded and you gave her a peck on the cheek, running over to your window and making your way down the fire escape.

Miles was already waiting for you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Don’t-”

“Two days in a row, I’m starting to think you’re hiding a boyfriend up there.”

“Oh shut up.”

The walk to your school was fairly the same except today he bought you a breakfast sandwich. You gave him a questioning look, and he just ignored it.

Making it to your school first, you both stopped at the entrance, shuffling to the side to not block the doors.

“So, any big plans for today at school?”

Miles shook his head.

“Nah, there’s a bunch of lectures and maybe a lab or two. The school’s not that much different than yours.”

“Mmmm, well. Don’t forget to make friends!”

Before he could respond, someone behind you called your name and wiggled their brows.

“Nice boyfriend! Maybe that’s where you sneak off to all the time!”

You flipped them off & took a deep breath, turning back to Miles.

“Maybe you should be worried about making friends.”

“Nah, they just know you and I are close.”

“What’s that about though?”

“What?”

“You sneaking off?” Miles tried to hide the jealousy that was creeping into his voice.

“Oh that.” You scratched your neck and gave him a bashful smile.

“Everyone thinks I’m seeing someone but I go out and grab lunch nearby and then come back. We’re technically not supposed to leave campus so…”

Miles laughed and you felt some pride in your chest.

“That does make more sense.”

You both idly chatted for a little longer before the first bell rang, and you knew he had to go.

“I’ll see you after school?” You said, hopefully.

Miles shook his head and gave you a sad smile.

“Sorry amor, I gotta help my mom and my uncle with some stuff at home.”

You nodded, understanding.

He ruffled your hair and you swatted his hand away, annoyed.

“I’ll see you around then!”

He saw you walk into his school and checked his phone, seeing he was late for school. He didn’t really care though, knowing he would rather spend time with you than be on time.

On your way home from school, you decided to stop in at a bookstore.

You were strolling the aisles, trying to find something that you were interested in. You had found a book, and someone accidentally knocked into you.

“Sorry!”

You turned around and saw Miles there, in a completely different outfit from when you saw him leave for school.

“Oh hey! I thought you were helping your mom with something at home?”

Miles scratched his neck awkwardly and nodded.

“Yeah, turns out she didn’t really need my help.”

“Oh did Aaron have it under control?”

“Yes!” He coughed and glanced around the store.

“Yeah, she had him helping so there wasn’t that much for me to do.”

“So you decided to come to a bookstore?”

“Yes?”

You hummed and turned around again, looking for the book again.

You could tell that Miles was still hovering behind you, hearing the shuffling of his Jordan’s.

“Miles,qué quieres?”

“Uhh… I was wondering if that book was good? I’ve been trying to find something new to read that isn’t an action type of book.”

You whipped around, stumbling into him not realizing how close he had been behind you.

“Are you asking me for a book recommendation? Because if so, we should do a book swap!”

“Book swap?” He tilted his head and gave you a confused look.

“Yeah! We can find books from our favorite genres for each other! I know they have a little cafe area and we can read them there!”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Great! Do you wanna meet up front in like 15 minutes?”

He nodded and you clapped and walked off to a different section of the store.

15 minutes later you both met up at the front, both with books in your hands.

Getting to the register, you plucked Miles’ book out of his hands and paid for both of them. He gave you a look and you just shrugged.

“Think of it as payment from breakfast yesterday.”

You thanked the cashier and both of you had made your way to the cafe.

Miles watched you order a drink, and declined your offer for anything. Both of you sat down at a couch, and you put the bag with the books in the middle.

Pulling out both, you handed him the one you picked out for him.

“Six of crows?”

“Yeah! It follows like a group of thieves and you get to see all the different perspectives, I really enjoy it.”

“Oh, sounds cool.”

You smiled and looked down at the book you held.

“Oh hey, Lord of the flies!”

“You’ve read it before?”

You shook your head, a small frown tugging at your lips.

“No, you and I used sparknotes to write my essay on it?”

Miles’ eyes widened.

“Right. Right.” He cleared his throat.

“Well, after that, I decided to read it and I think you’d enjoy it.”

You hummed and nodded, opening the book and beginning to read.

Miles opened his book as well, and was reading, until he felt your head on his lap. He looked down and you and you smiled, seemingly not thinking anything of it.

Miles on the other hand, his heart was racing and he was hoping you couldn’t hear it. He wasn’t uncomfortable per say, he just didn’t know if it was normal between you and his counterpart. You didn’t seem to notice his inner turmoil and were fixated on the book.

A little while had passed, and Miles had seemingly got more comfortable, mindlessly playing with a strand of your hair. You were halfway done with the book when your phone had gone off. You sat up, Miles’ hand dropping down to his side.

Picking up the phone, you saw your mother had texted you to come home, she needed you to run an errand for her.

Packing up your stuff, Miles stood up when you did.

“I gotta head home, my mom needs me to run a few errands for her.”

“Want me to help?”

You looked at him and smiled.

“Sure. I know mom would love to see you anyways.We can talk about the books on the way there.”

You both quickened your pace, and you grabbed Miles’ hand dragging him along with you.

Neither of you had realized the whole way to your house that you were still holding hands, fingers intertwined.

Miles had told you what he thought about the book so far, and he was interested in it. You explained some things he wasn’t sure about, and gave him some fun facts about the characters and the author.

In turn,he told you about the book he had recommended and about the movie that they had made based on the book. He hated the movie.

Finally getting to your apartment building, you climbed up the stairs to your apartment, dropping his hand to look for your keys.

You opened the front door and the smells of cinnamon permeated your senses.

“Ya llegué! Traje a Miles también!”

You kicked off your shoes and Miles followed suit, staring at the photos on the walls. The walls were covered in pictures of you and your mother, of you and him, and your families together. He pulled his attention away, following you into the kitchen.

You gave your mother a hug from behind, kissing the top of her head. She let out a laugh and shook her head. She would always say you’re her favorite child (you were her only child).

“Dónde estabas? Necesito que lleves esto para mi.”

“Estábamos en la tienda, quería otro libro para leer.”

Your mother turned to Miles, giving him a big hug. He hugged her back awkwardly and you snickered at his eyes pleading for your help.

She parted from him and pointed to the fridge.

“Te dejé algunas pupusas, llévalos a tu mamá también.”

“Uh gracias, I’ll make sure to take them to her.”

Both you and your mom shared a glance and she shrugged, before walking over to hand you a package.

“Just this?”

“Yes, and then no getting sidetracked, you have to come home straight after. I trust you will be with them, right Miles?”

“Si!”

He didn’t miss the way you bit your lip, trying to hold in a laugh. You both bid your mother farewell, and went to deliver the package.

The walk to the place was quiet, Miles had no clue where you were going. You cleared your throat, eyes still forward.

“What was that back there?”

“What was what?”

You stopped walking and Miles stopped a moment after, turning to look at you.

“That accent, Miles!”

“Huh?”

“My mom literally side eyed you, she was definitely confused as to why you were trying to pull a joke on her…”

“Oh, right.”

“I found it funny though, mainly because I do that to her all the time.”

“Right.”

Miles started walking again, and you followed behind him, grabbing his hand that was just swinging.

“Estás enojado conmigo?”

Miles stopped and looked down at your hands that were intertwined. He had a strange feeling in his stomach, he wasn’t sure if he could pinpoint it. He was trying to get home, to figure out how to even get back there, but he didn’t even know how long it had been. Time was relative and he wasn’t sure if he was too late.

He also didn’t know why he felt attached to you, a sense of comfort while being around you. He secretly hoped, that even at home, you would be there.

“I’m not mad.”

“Good. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

He squeezed your hand, giving you a small smile.

“Nah. You’re good. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hm, okay. But let me know if I do okay?”

“Got it.”

The rest of the walk to the place was filled with you two talking about different things, laughter from the both of you, once again never letting go of the other’s hand.

Miles realized that the area you guys were going to seemed familiar. It was his uncle’s place. His hands started to get sweaty, and he was panicking. He had actively avoided his family, watching from afar.

You, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine. You hadn’t seen Aaron in a while, and you always wondered if he was doing okay. Miles always seemed on edge when you asked what he and Aaron did, which made you suspicious but you also knew he didn’t have to tell you everything.

You both made it to the hallway, and Miles squeezed your hand once more. You assumed it was an unconscious thing, but Miles did it to reassure himself.

“Why don’t I wait here for you?”

“Come on, I’m just gonna knock on the door and if he’s not there, we’ll leave it on his doorstep.”

He nodded and took a deep breath following you.

You knocked on the door, fully assuming no one would be home. Miles told you beforehand that he was helping Rio, so you just did it to reassure Miles. You weren’t sure if they had fought beforehand, but you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.

You knocked once more, hearing a voice on the other end yell for someone else to open the door. You straightened yourself up, plastering a smile on your face. Miles rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb, taking another deep breath.

The door creaked open, and when you made eye contact with the person at the door, your heart fell to the floor. Miles Morales stood in front of you, still wearing his uniform, his smile slowly dropping as he looked at your hand, being intertwined with someone. He looked at the person, eyes growing wide and jaw clenched.

Miles next to you felt his heart stop for a second, unsure what to do. He was staring at himself, who if looks could kill, would have him 6 feet under.

You dropped your hand from Miles’, thoughts going a million miles a minute. The main thought though was:

What the hell is going on?

taglist! @nameless-beanie @carmendanny2 @kukigirli @rayendrop @lovefks @anuncalledbridge @immortal-t @riki-gf @shuriri4life @starboychanyeol @sakura-onesan @the-smut-plug

if your name is in bold i was unable to tag you!

[innorogers]

Vigil

Steve Rogers x Reader (You / OFC)

Summary: For a man who has faced down gods, monsters, the end of the universe, this kind of fear is new to him. It’s not the enemy outside he fears—it’s the thought of losing you, of failing to protect you. Again.

Warning: Mention of sex / Fluff & Angst / Protective Steve / Jealous Steve /

Characters: OC, Tony Stark, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Sam Wilson, Sharon Carter, Natasha Romanoff / John Walker

Also: Thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️ Let me know if you want to be included in the taglist (DM, comment, repost and tag, whatever works)❤️ You don't need to read the previous chapters but it will definitely enhance the experience if you do.

1: Insomnia | 2: Lucid | 3: Reverie | 4: Nightmare | 5: Awakening | 6: Dusk | 7: Hypnagogia | 8: Lull

It ended just as expected. Steve cummed twice in the shower—once in your mouth, because, damn, he tasted amazing after cleaning up, and again inside you, because you smelled just as irresistible with that jasmine scent in your hair.

So here you are, three cups of coffee later, and about to nap on your desk. The body Hydra gave you was strong, but you’ve been in a car chase, with the Iron Army hunting you down, fought in a nightclub, and probably had four or five rounds of sex with Steve. You honestly don’t know what was more exhausting. You’d guess the mission that had gone rogue, but honestly, the sex just left you breathless.

"Oh, rough night?" Robert handed you a fourth cup of coffee, eyeing the dark circles under your eyes. "Need the adrenaline shot?"

"Um…" You actually considered it for a moment. Your body metabolized stuff like that too fast, though—it would only last for a couple of hours, tops. "Nah, forget it.” You need your brain clear to process everything that happened. 

“I’ve heard…” Dr. Lin’s voice interrupted your thoughts as he leaned casually on your desk, his eyes scanning the room where your colleagues were clearly whispering about you. “That Captain America had quite the adventure yesterday. Right after leaving the UN, too.”

He tsked and pulled out his phone, showing you a few grainy clips. Footage from CCTVs and some shaky handhelds—probably from people who had their phones out at the right moment. “A broken bridge, streets on fire, and…a fight in a nightclub? You’re gonna need more than coffee to survive this shift, I think.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Too late for damage control, huh? Is it all over the news?” You could only imagine the hell Steve was going through with Commander Hill: ‘I gave you 1,278 security protocols, and you ignored them all?!’ Yeah, you weren’t setting foot in the command room today.

“Not quite all over the news yet—mostly social media.” Dr. Lin was clearly enjoying the UN’s PR disaster a bit too much. “I think they’re working overtime behind the scenes to sweep it under the rug. Captain America gets attacked his first time outside the compound during ‘The Reconciliation of the Century’? Yeah…someone’s having a bad day in PR.”

“Anyway…as I was saying…You’re gonna need more than coffee, we’ve got company today…”

“What? Company?” You were surprised. “They’re letting people in?!” After yesterday’s security breach?

“Seems the first New Era Project agent that the UN sent was a fraud or didn’t work. And since we visited them yesterday already, today, they’re sending some new guys.” Dr. Lin looked at you, lowering his glasses: “Yikes, right? So for today, we need to pretend we’re working. ‘Cause we’re not sharing our real stuff…which will make this day unbearable.”

Oh. You grimaced after Dr. Lin turned around and began “working.” Yeah, you knew everything about how the last agent went wrong. But actually, this ‘pretend to be working’ thing was good—you needed to analyze everything that had happened.

You opened a document connected to Tony’s hub and started typing, outlining the details for him in your usual style. (It was your private little system—documents stored in The Crib, or what the three of you called the ‘Geniuses’ Sticky Notes.’) You’d barely finished bullet point five when someone in a crisp military uniform appeared beside you, smiling next to your screen.

“Hi, Ilithya. Ilithya Lancaster—whose phone number is still confidential. Nice to see you again.” John Walker said smiling, quoting the line you’d once used to refuse giving him your number.

Oh dear Lord, he really should have taken a nap with you when he had the chance, instead of those three—no, four rounds of sex you had in the dressing room and the shower.

Steve thought after suppressing another yawn, trying to focus on the screen, where Thadeus Ross was losing his temper again, explaining why the UN had nothing to do with the attack he and you got yesterday.

But who was he kidding? Steve almost smiled. Nope, no way he’d have preferred the nap over the sex. That was exactly what he needed after being hard almost the entire afternoon. And four times weren’t enough—he would have gone on if you weren’t in the dressing room.

For fuck’s sake, when is this over? He couldn’t wait to get back to your private lab-slash-home, have a light dinner, and get in bed with you.

Oh, that’s a nice thought: a sex marathon for the weekend is all he needs after this hellish week. He started thinking of your intertwined bodies, your begging moans that sounded like heaven... Yeah, okay, he needs to focus. Maybe listen to what the Secretary has to say instead of thinking about your messy hair, your heavy breath, your skin that felt like silky sweet milk, and your mouth... Yup, stop. Let’s hear Ross, so he doesn’t get hard again in the middle of a full meeting room.

He felt a glare on him, so he looked around and saw Agent Sharon Carter staring with her eyebrows raised, as if saying, “Gotcha, pay attention.” Steve suppressed a smile and looked down. Oh boy, this was going to be a long day.

“I thought your super friends were going to be attending this meeting too.” Once the screen was off, Sharon smiled at him while picking up the folders and files.

“Well... Hill and Sam are still in Fraser’s interrogation. Tony and Bruce are tracking back the security breach. Natasha and Clint took over my place in training since I’m busy with other things. So...”

Basically, what happened was that when Tony asked who would be taking this mission, everyone stepped back, and I was the only idiot at the front. Steve shook his head internally.

“In that case.” Sharon gave him the usual confident wink. “I’m glad. It’s been forever since we shared a mission.” She grinned. “Last time almost cost me my career.”

“Yeah...um...lucky, things sorted out on that one...” He was a little embarrassed but still grateful for Sharon’s help during the Civil War chaos.

“I’m kidding with you, okay?” Sharon teased. “It’s not like I almost got into federal prison or anything.” She sighed a little, lowering her voice: “Although, I wouldn’t have minded if I had to.” She said with a soft voice and a sparkle in her eyes, looking at Steve with sincerity, which made him stiffen.

“So, how have you been?” Steve nodded and asked with a polite smile, pressing the elevator button for her as they headed to the cafeteria floor. “How does it feel to be at the UN? I heard the benefits are better than the CIA, though unfortunately, you’ll need to deal with us again.”

"Ah, I don’t know what you're talking about," Sharon said with a wink, grinning playfully. "Every agent’s dream, right? Dealing with the Avengers, working alongside the great Captain America... even if, well, my boss would rather face another alien army than deal with the politics of this initiative."

“Well, that’d make two of us.” Steve chuckled, and opened the cafeteria door for her.

The hum of chatter and the clinking of dishes filled the air. The compound’s cafeteria was large, efficient, and—much to Steve’s relief—quiet at this time of day. It was near lunchtime, but still a little early for food service, so the air was full of a coffee’s aroma that lingered from breakfast. They got in line for coffee and a quick snack, and Sharon gave him a sideways glance, her expression teasing as she grabbed a sandwich.

“Oh wow, you guys have affogato as dessert? I could consider getting back to work with you guys just for your catering service.” Sharon said, breaking the brief silence as they moved along the counter.

“Well, if you consider that, I could make my best effort to get your agent’s number back.” Steve grinned, grabbing just a cup of coffee.

“Oh yes, lucky number, huh?” She stopped for a second as she laughed and said, “Remember that place we went to… Venice? What was it called, the best affogato in the world.”

“Benicio’s?” Steve nodded. “Yeah… it’s closed now. I mean, gone during the Blip, hopefully reopened now.”

“You didn’t have the affogato, though,” Sharon said with a playful hint in her voice. “Mr. ‘I don’t know how to relax since I got into a fight with Stark and we’re on the run.’”

“Hey, I was the international most wanted. I think it was okay for me just to stay out of the loop. Imagine if I got caught because of ice cream. That would’ve been…”

“Funny? Quite a story to tell? Best date I’ve ever had?” Sharon shrugged.

“...Embarrassing.” Steve said with a smile. “Or awkward, or even humiliating.”

Sharon shook her head and laughed. They found a table by the window, where sunlight poured in, and Steve took a seat across from her. He could see the curiosity in Sharon’s eyes, the slight hesitation before she spoke again.

“It really was, actually. One of my top three dates.” Her smile turned more serious, her voice low enough that only Steve could hear over the ambient noise. “Too bad it ended so… abruptly.”

Steve wanted to say, "We would never have made it too far", but he only sighed.

He didn’t want to dismiss her feelings, and he couldn’t deny that something had existed between them. It was brief, but also real. A shared history they couldn’t quite forget or ignore.

Sharon was strong, smart, and capable—someone he admired deeply and cared about. He appreciated her confidence and her courage, but that connection, though meaningful, was nothing compared to what he felt for you now.

That had been a stream. With you, it was tides, waves, the entire ocean.

“We made a good team.” Steve said with a smile, being honest and looking directly into her eyes.

Something about it made Sharon hold her breath. 

She could remember moments in the past when Steve had the same effect on her. He would just gaze at her, and her heartbeat would skip or beat too fast.

Maybe that’s why she hadn’t pushed harder when it didn’t work. If she had fallen, completely and madly, as she’d wanted to, the power he held over her would have been overwhelming.

She had risked her entire career just to help him, and they were… nothing. Just a kiss, just some kisses or dates. So what would have happened if they’d continued? She couldn’t imagine a life where she had so little discipline about her feelings, mind, or heart.

“I know.” Sharon spoke softly, still holding his gaze. She was taking a leap of faith now. Cause she couldn’t help to wonder—could it have worked?

What if…they gave it another chance? They didn’t have the menace of the universe’s destruction now, the chances of Steve (or her) being a fugitive again were none after Thanos, so what… what if…?

“But…” She began, but Steve suddenly turned as something caught his attention.

It was lunchtime, and the employees began to arrive at the cafeteria, you among them, with Dr. Lin at your right and John Walker at your left.

“Captain Walker, I really don’t need a date. I have a boyfriend, no, um… fiancé.” You said as you picked up a tray and started serving lunch on your plate, remembering how Steve just highlighted this morning that the ring was indeed, a ring.

“It’s John.” Said a very cheerful John Walker, who was not stepping back from asking you out, even though you had been determined and clear about your “NO”s and reasons.

“Well, does this fiancé have a name? And where’s the ring?” he said while picking lunch and placing food, walking backward with a gracious wink.

“OH MY GOD!” You and Dr. Lin said at the same time, your eyes widening as you noticed the ring was missing from your finger.

“Where’s the ring? D…did you lose the ring?!” Robert was panicking. Did you just lose the engagement ring Captain America gave you?!

“I don’t know, it was on my finger...” You were looking in your lab coat pockets and in your clothes.

“It’s a tracking device, equipped with the last of Stark technology, how...how can you lose a tracking device?!” Dr. Lin couldn’t believe it. 

“Your boyfriend put a tracking device on you?” John hmph'd with a laugh. “What a douchebag!” He put a hand on his chest. “I promise, I would never do such a manipulative, controlling freak thing to you.” He winked. “I’ll look out for other guys who come close, of course, but that’s another level of jerkiness. Ugh...a tracking device, what is he, a psychopath?”

“It’s an engagement ring,” you replied, frowning, though you didn’t think of giving out too much information to him. You thought back to the last time you saw the ring, which was before you took it off when you entered the UN HQ.

You pulled out your phone, wanting to send a message to Steve just to confirm.

Some strands of hair curved in front of you when you looked down, and John, who was standing in front of you, couldn’t help but stretch out his hand and brush them to your shoulder. His fingers ran through your hair, and his fingertips touched your ear as he accommodated it for you.

Before you could react, a loud crash echoed through the cafeteria, like the sound of a broken cup or mug.

Sharon stood in shock as Steve slammed his cup down so hard the porcelain shattered. His face was livid, veins bulging in his neck, and his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.

He abruptly stood, the chair scraping loudly behind him, and stormed in your direction.

"I've got it, babe." Steve said. He didn’t miss a moment of the interaction and was at your side in an instant. He took your hand, his eyes locked on John Walker, and carefully slid the ring back onto your finger. “It was in the pocket of your gear.” 

Both captains exchanged tense, serious looks. You could feel the sparks fly between them as they made eye contact, and after a long moment, Steve finally smiled.

“I’m guessing you're here as a representative of the New Era’s Project, Captain Walker?” He said, placing a firm hand on your waist, his grip tightening slightly.

“Yes.” John replied with a polite but sneering smile.

“The knowledge exchanges from R&D have been…quite enlightening. I can’t wait to see what the best of your team has to offer…to me.” He said as he raised his jaw and tilted his head toward you. You could feel Steve’s body tense, like a bow stretched to its full capacity and ready to snap back.

"Take whatever gear or armory you want, Walker," Steve said in a cold, measured voice, as the entire cafeteria fell silent, all eyes locked on the tension between the two men.

"But the best of this compound is far beyond your reach. And don’t think for a second that you could ever put a finger on that." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, teeth clenched. Touch my girl’s hair again, and I’ll cut your arm off.

"Steve." A calm voice cut through the tension as Commander Hill appeared at the doorway. She walked in with steady confidence. "We’ve got news. I need you and Dr. Lancaster in the Command Room."

Steve didn’t immediately move. His gaze lingered on Walker for a few more seconds, with unspoken warnings in his eyes. Then, without a word, he turned to you, gently taking your hand in his, and led you out of the cafeteria. The weight of Walker’s stare followed behind you both, but your focus stayed fixed on your fiance's figure.

No one spoke in the hallway as you walked toward the Command Room. You could see Steve’s rigid expression. He was pissed, his jaw tight, shoulders tense as if holding back more words.

But you were… well, trying your best to hide the curve of your lips. Just like he had back in the car when you sobbed that you’d go to Wakanda and talk to plants for the rest of your life if he ever left you to go back to his gorgeous ex.

Oh, so he was this jealous? Even a little possessive? He got this mad just because a guy touched your hair? Now, if Steve were any other guy, maybe this would seem like a giant red flag, but this was the love of your life, so…

You slid your hand into his palm, pressing your skin to his, and intertwined your fingers with his. 

Steve’s expression softened, and he looked at you, letting out a quiet sigh. He smiled when you mouthed, I love you.

Commander Hill, however, wasn’t in the mood for your lovebird moments. Her face remained stern as she waited for the door to close behind you, sealing the room.

"Agent Frazer was found dead this morning."

The words hung in the air like a punch to the gut. Steve’s hand tightened around yours as his expression shifted from softened warmth to immediate alertness.

You lowered your sight.

Somehow, you had a feeling this was coming anytime soon. It was weird, though. Agent Frazer was not your brother; he just pretended to be for some time (and then actually tried to brainwash slash attack you). But for a moment, you wished that had been true, that your brother was alive, even if he had been turned against you. So now he is dead, and you feel strangely sad.

Your way of dealing with it? Throw yourself into the facts.

“How?” you asked, almost mechanically. “Was it because… his neural synapses overloaded, triggering an energy surge that short-circuited his cerebral cortex in under a millisecond? Like… like someone or something… wired his brain to self-destruct?”

Maria’s eyes widened, and she gave a quick, silent nod.

Steve’s grip tightened, haunted by your words. At that moment, he panicked, cold sweat through his shirt, fear dominating his senses when the possibility of losing you suddenly struck hard in his mind. So, could anyone do that? Snap their fingers and cause you a brain dead? 

His body was merely processing under this thought. He felt the urge to hug you, to feel your warmth and heartbeat under his skin, to feel you entirely safe in his arms. But you were in the command room, so he didn’t move.

“Can we make sure that…” His voice trembled slightly. “What happened to Frazer…” doesn’t happen to you?

Commander Hill noted his panic, so she gave him some time to process.

“Oh no.” You noticed too, so you reassured him, squeezing his hand back: “That won’t happen to me. I’ve only been through one brainwash. It takes more than that—multiple processes, open surgery. And Hydra… they didn’t have the tech to pull it off. Not back then.”

“But…” Your mind raced ahead, piecing things together. “Whoever did this? They’re desperate.”

You rubbed your forehead, and as your hands dropped, Maria noticed it: that look on your face.

The same intense, calculating look Steve wore when he was seeing things no one else could—analyzing every possibility, tracing out the most brilliant, cunning plan, whether on a battlefield or at a table of white collars and power brokers.

“Jarvis, any chance Bruce and Tony are in the crib?” You needed to process your ideas, but you also needed someone who could remember everything you’d said.

“They are on their way here, Dr. Lancaster.” answered the A.I. “Crossing the elevator’s door at this moment.” said Jarvis as both entered the room.

“Please tell me you already have a preliminary conclusion?” said Tony, stepping into the room.

“Okay…” You stood in the middle, your mind moving faster than words as you started laying out the analysis.

“They have access to Hydra files—there’s no other way to explain it. Clearance levels that aren’t just high for regulars; files that were locked, or used to be locked, behind old S.H.I.E.L.D. encryption. And the remains of my file? Only a few could access those after Hydra was dismantled.”

Tony leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, tracking your every movement. Bruce sat at the edge of a table, hands loosely folded, but his furrowed brow betrayed his concern.

“So, leftover Hydra goons or former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents?” Tony asked. He didn't want to say it aloud, but there was also another possibility: a breach, here, inside the Avengers.

“Or both.” Steve raised an eyebrow. “Ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives who went dark when Hydra fell. People who know how to stay hidden but had deep ties to the old Hydra infrastructure.”

“Even if they had the files, they’d need money. A lot of it, if they’re working with the kind of tech that got into Frazer’s head.” Bruce said, swiping through the files on the screen.

“Yeah, this doesn’t sound like some underground merc group.” Maria said, standing beside him as she watched the files on the main screen.

“This is serious, billionaire-level investment. Whoever’s backing them has access to bleeding-edge tech. Retinal implants, memory manipulation… that’s not standard black-market operation. The kind of power they’re throwing around is something only the Avengers or S.H.I.E.L.D. had access to—the old S.H.I.E.L.D. when they were still around.”

“So, they’re gearing up for something big, or they’re hitting a wall. What are they trying to accomplish? Why use Frazer as a puppet?” Tony followed the line of thought.

You hesitated: “I think… They’re close to something. A breakthrough, maybe. Or…” You stopped and narrowed your eyes, thinking aloud. “Or they’re failing. Desperate. They’re making bold moves because they need something critical. And that something is… me.”

Steve’s expression shifted. His fingers locked onto yours, tightly.

“The attack was directed at you. Frazer was pretending to be your brother. And to confirm your existence.” Tony sighed, frustrated and feeling a pang of guilt. He hid you all these years, thinking you would be safe. He should have let you out of the New Eras Project. The Avengers had so many ways of detecting enemies without using your powers. Fuck, he should have listened to Steve when he warned him to let you out of the Project.

“Of the twelve of you, you’re the only one with… those powers.” Steve murmured, almost clenching his teeth. He felt the urge to hug you, as if you were going to disappear or vanish in the next second.

“And a success case.” You said, not wanting to scare him but knowing you all needed the entire picture. “The only survivor, the only… prototype. Still alive. In my body is the source code for why these experiments or creations worked.”

“Wait…” Tony’s glare was fixed on you. “If the endgame is to copy your ability… What could they even use that for?” But it was a self-answering conversation. He was just thinking aloud: “…a soldier who could walk into a building and identify every weak point before the first shot is fired. Or worse, detect something we’ve built to be undetectable.”

“Why stop there, Tony?” Maria’s expression was serious and cold. “Why would there be only one? Hydra made a dozen back then, and they didn’t even have half the tech we have now.”

Bruce frowned deeper, his voice low: “If they’re that close, then we’re on borrowed time. They’ve already brainwashed Frazer, and now they’re playing with neural implants and synaptic overrides.”

“Exactly.” You nodded. “And they are so desperate, they don’t care if we know they’re out there now, because they’re so close they can taste it. Once they succeed, they won’t even fear the Avengers’ powers anymore.”

Tony exhaled sharply, his glare cold. “So, they’re building something. A super soldier, or an army of them—enhanced with tech that would let them see through just about anything.”

“And they’re not far from getting there. But for now, I’m still the key to unlocking that power.”

The room went quiet for a moment as the weight of your words settled in.

“Well, isn’t that just fantastic.” Tony applauded, the whole thing giving him a headache. “We’ve got super soldiers with x-ray vision on the horizon. And they’ve got you in their crosshairs.”

“So basically, we need to see what triggered this sudden desperation.” Bruce leaned forward, and his mind began to analyze: “We could scan for energy centralization around the globe. Human creation needs vast electromagnetic fields to power high-level bioengineering, especially when manipulating neural pathways at this scale. We need to track when or where all this is happening. But…”

His voice was tense.

“I’ve got a feeling they’re at the door already. Because whatever they’re building… they’re almost done.”

The way back home was silent. You could feel the atmosphere heavy with unspoken tension. Steve hadn’t said much since you left the command room. His usual warmth and quiet strength seemed overshadowed by something deeper—fear and anxiety, clunging over him like a dark shadow, haunting him at his heels.

You wanted to speak, but your mind was processing too. You were trying to remember everything you knew about yourself and your siblings, every memory, every piece of paper you’d seen in Hydra labs, every layer of analysis they’d made you go through.

The ride home was silent, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed on the road, even your house slash lab was after all the securities protocols and protective layers Maria had put, he was still alert, as if there were something in the grass and trees of the compound that would attack anytime. You could feel the weight of his thoughts, pressing down like a storm waiting to break.

"Babe there's no need…" You said as Steve moved around the house once you've arrived.

He checked every window, every door, securing them with an almost obsessive care. He paused at the front door, his hand lingering on the lock as if it was the only thing standing between you and the threat he couldn’t control.

You watched him, knowing that this wasn’t just about protecting you—it was about the fear within him.

"Steve, I'm here." You stopped him. Placing your hand on his back: "I'm here. With you."

He turned to you, his face pale. His eyes were haunted, wide with the kind of fear you rarely saw in him. He’s worried.

No, not worried, he’s terrified.

Without a word, he pulls you into his arms, wrapping them tightly around you like you might disappear if he let go. His grip is firm, desperate, as trying to shield you from an invisible danger that only he can see.

His breath is uneven, and you can feel the tension radiating from him. For a man who has faced down gods, monsters, the end of the universe, this kind of fear is new to him. It’s not the enemy outside he fears—it’s the thought of losing you, of failing to protect you. Again.

You don’t say anything at first. Words won’t soothe him. So you just hold him back, resting your head against his chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. Slowly, you lifted your hands to gently press them on his neck, cupping his face to make him look at you.

"I'm here. And we will be ok." You say softly.

These words made him tremble. Will you? How can you be sure? How could he know? What if…

He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he lost you.

“I won’t let them take you.” He said, as a sacred oath, tatooed in his soul. “I’m going to set up more protocols.” He muttered, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression one of steely resolve beneath the worry. “More security. I’ll have Tony upgrade the system. I’ll have guards outside. I’ll—”

You stayed still in his arms, feeling the rawness of his fear. His body was tense, and you could feel the tremble in his muscles, the weight of his panic pressing against you. He wasn’t just holding you for comfort—he was holding you like you were the last solid thing in a world that was quickly unraveling.

“Steve,” you interrupted softly, placing a hand on his chest. “You can’t protect me from everything.”

His eyes locked onto yours. “I can try. And I will.”

"Babe…this is the Avengers compound. This is…the safest place on earth. Or even the universe."

"It took only one protocol. One permission. Approved by me." He said with teeth clenched. "I gave him clearance. One, to bring Frazer in front of you, I won't ever, ever let that happen again." He said with conviction, his expressions somber as he remembered everything you went through.

But beneath his determination, you could see the cracks: the anxiety gnawing away at him, the overwhelming fear that no matter what he did, it might not be enough.

"Steve…"

“You don’t understand…” His voice is strained, thick with the fear that he hasn’t been able to shake since the moment he realized you were being targeted. “I’ve seen too much. I’ve lost too many. If something happens to you—”

He pauses.

“I can’t lose you.” He whispered, his voice barely audible. He was a man made of iron will and conviction, but here he stood, vulnerable and raw, stripped bare of all his usual defenses.

“Hey, hey, hey…Listen.” You said, holding his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I’m here. Right here. I’m not going anywhere. I'm here, with you, I'm safe.”

He looks at you and feels a pang of pain to your innocent even naive words.

Safe? Were you safe when he was on the other side of the wall and couldn't do anything but watch as you almost fell under Frazer's brainwash? Were you safe when you pressed a tranquilizer to yourself?

The memory of you in his arms, unconcious and slipping away was so vivid.

His hands tightened around you again at that thought, his grip shaking slightly. “I just... I can’t stop thinking about it.” He admitted, his voice strained. “What if I can’t get to you in time? What if something happens and I’m not there? What if…”

“I can’t take that risk.” He mutters, more to himself than to you. “ I can't. I won’t let anything happen to you. Not again.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. His blue eyes are filled with a vulnerability you’ve only seen in rare moments— when the weight of the world is too much, even for him.

“Steve.” You say soft but firmly: “We’ll get through this. Together.”

For a long moment, he just looks at you, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to find reassurance in the depths of your gaze. Slowly, he exhales, but he doesn’t let go. That deep-rooted terror of losing you, isn't going away anytime soon.

His arms remain wrapped around you, protective and unyielding, as though he’s made a silent vow that nothing—no person, no secret organization, no force on Earth or beyond—will ever take you away from him.

If only that could be true.

THE End but TBC

Continue to Chapter 10: Eclipse

Alright I'm SO SORRY I'm late!! 2 Full time jobs really is consuming me!! I hope you enjoyed it!! Sooooo I have a really serious question RN, could you doooo me the favor to lmk your thoughts!!

Tag list: @vioplay19 / @jamneuromain / @steviebbboi / @heletsmelovehim / @otterlycanadian / hisredheadedgoddess28

*can you let me know if I've missed anyone in the taglist? thanks <3

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: stalker/ unsuccessful kidnap, violence, depictions of blood and assault (let me know if I should add more)

Chapter Word Count: 2318

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sooooo I’m sorry it’s not spicy like I said it would be… But I absolutely promise the next one will be! Chapters 5 and 6 were supposed to be just one chapter but it got too long so I had to split it… And again please let me know of any errors because this is only proof read by myself.

——————————————————————

Please Read the Below First:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

I’m Not You’re F*cking Maid

Chapter 5

After thorough interviewing of the staff and regular patrons; long searches through copious auction records and meticulous studying of the items in the shop we narrowed our search down to one item: an old jade hairpin. The hairpin belonged to a young lady who was given the gift as a wedding present, however when she found out on her wedding night that her new husband was having an affair, she stabbed him to death with it before jumping to her own demise from their third floor balcony. That was just over a century ago, and she was still wreaking havoc on unfaithful men to this day.

“I mean I get where she’s coming from,” I shrugged as we walked back to the motel. Both brothers turned to look at me with concern smeared over their features. “OBVIOUSLY I don’t agree with all the murder,” they breathed a sigh of relief, “but you can’t hate her for being mad. I would be too.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows a little and holding his hands up. I gave him a look of bewilderment.

“What side do you think you’re on, Dean? Because this,” I gestured between us, “isn’t my good side.” He mumbled something incoherent as we got to the motel so I chose to ignore him completely.

“So what’s the plan? It’s getting late and we can’t really do anything now until that charity event taking place at the auction house tomorrow. We’re already pretty clued up on how to get rid of ghosts so there’s really not much to do except to get both your names on that guest list,” Sam patted his laptop, looking at both of us.

“Food?” Dean and I said at the same time.

“Food sounds good,” Sam nodded. The boys turned around to leave when I stopped them.

“Just whilst we’re still at the motel, I’m just going to freshen up real quick.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “really?” I flipped him the bird.

“I can just meet you there? There’s like only one diner in this town and I know the way. I won’t be long.” The brothers looked at each other for a few seconds before Sam looked at me and smiled.

“Sure ok, we’ll get a seat in the window so we can see you coming.”

“Great! I’ll see you soon,” I grinned at the younger Winchester before turning away and letting myself into my room.

I had the worlds quickest shower and threw on some clean underwear and a clean top, feeling better after getting the grime from the day off. I pulled on my jeans, socks and boots, applied a small amount of eyeliner and mascara and tidied my hair the best I could before slinging on my jacket and applying some perfume to my wrists and neck. It was one of my favourite scents: I’d bought it from some lingerie store a year or so ago and it’s apparently one of those aphrodisiac perfumes, however I have no idea if it even works or not. It’s probably a scam, nothing works that well in real life.

After I’d finished sorting myself out - which took no longer than half an hour - I grabbed my phone and keys and left the room, locking up before making my way towards the diner. Night had descended, the air turning cold against my warm skin and the usually busy streets now lay deserted and car-free. It was only about a five minute walk or so from the motel and I was now only about a minute away when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. I’d caught a glimpse of a figure dressed from head to toe in black in the reflection of several shop windows, and they were following my exact trail. I sped up, walking faster down the empty main road and hoping it was all a coincidence as worst case scenarios started to race through my mind. It wasn’t long until the diner was in sight and I breathed a sigh of relief, however the relief was short lived when those footsteps were getting closer and closer, quicker and quicker right behind me. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a coincidence at all - I was definitely being stalked. I started to run, my legs moving before my brain had kicked into gear and I was only inches from the front door when the stranger caught up, slamming me against the wall of the building and putting a knife to my throat, covering my mouth with a gloved hand.

“Don’t make a fucking noise - you’re coming with me,” he said aggressively yet quietly. I could feel the blade of the knife pressing against the soft skin of my neck and I couldn’t help but feel tears well in my eyes, my breath turning shaky as my heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t even get any words out as his hand was too tight over my lips.

I wanted to cry out for help so badly it hurt.

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that this was all a bad dream. My cheek was pushed into the rough brick which grazed my skin, and I silently prayed for my attacker to just let me go or for some hero to come and save me. At that very moment I heard the door to the diner and my eyes shot open, instantly connecting with Deans. I watched as surprise turned to horror which then turned to pure feral rage on his face and before I even had a chance to blink he was gone from my line of sight - but so was the pressure keeping me pinned against the wall. I spun around and I watched Dean throw the stalker to the floor with more force that I thought he could muster and tower over him. Dean didn’t say a word, but the stranger let out a sharp cry of pain as Dean instantly brought his boot down on his ribs. There was a CRACK. He did it again.

And again.

And again.

And then he got down and pinned my attacker flush against the tarmac before he brought a closed fist down on his face over and over and over again, cracking his jaw and breaking his nose. Dean didn’t stop until the man was totally unrecognisable and unresponsive. Standing up off of his limp body, he looked over to me, his furious, almost animalistic stare softening instantly, even through all the blood that now painted his face. He took one step towards me before my feet worked on their own and carried me straight to him. I put my arms out to reach for him and he grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest with zero hesitation, his arms circling me and his blood-soaked palms gently stroking my hair. I sobbed. I sobbed from the fear I felt, I sobbed for feeling like such a victim and I sobbed for the relief I now felt flooding my veins as Dean held me, not saying a word. Listening to his heartbeat with my ear to his chest, I felt so safe and secure that it made me want to sob even more.

*

Dean ended up taking me straight back to my room - he called Sam to tell him what had happened as he wasn’t going to be returning to the diner. I had my second shower of the day as soon as we returned, wanting to scrub everywhere that horrible man had touched. Whilst I was washing, Dean had headed back to his own room to shower off the layer of blood coating his skin. After I was satisfactorily clean, I dried myself and dressed in that old T-shirt I wore the night before, pulling on some fresh underwear and perching on the end of the bed. I picked up the remote and started mindlessly flicking through channels, hoping to find something to distract my racing brain.

I’d been sitting in the same position for around ten minutes when there was a gentle knock on the door. I held my breath as I got up and walked over, looking through the peephole. It was Dean. I released that breath as I opened the door and let him in. He’d changed from his usual gruff attire to something way more comfortable - a plain white T-shirt and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. He smiled at me. A kind smile, nothing like those teasing and sly ones we’d been throwing at each other since yesterday. This one was genuine, and it made my chest feel warm. He locked the door behind him as I padded back over to the bed and climbed on it, sitting right in the centre with my legs crossed. I pulled the T-shirt down to cover my dignity as Dean placed a carrier bag in front of me. I peeked inside. It was full to the brim of all different types of snacks and I grinned up at him.

“You sure do know how to treat a girl, Winchester.”

He let out a soft laugh and looked down at the floor before taking residence beside me.

“You’re the first one who thinks so”.

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s a long line of women who definitely think otherwise,” he smiled a slightly sad smile. We both paused before I continued.

“Well if it means anything, what you did for me today, I-” he held a hand up to stop me as he saw the look of fear flit across my features again, the horrid memory bubbling to the surface.

“It was the least I could do,” he said softly before his brows furrowed, “but to be honest I should never have let you out of my sight.” The almost protective tone of his voice made my heart flutter a little, but It was my turn to reassure him as I placed my hand on his shoulder delicately.

“Dean, none of us knew that would happen. I know you wouldn’t have left me alone if you genuinely thought I was in danger - after all, you DID promise to keep me safe from my own shadow,” I flashed him a grin which he quickly returned, chuckling. We sat for a few moments in a strangely comfortable silence before there was another knock at the door. I went to get up to answer it but Dean beat me to it, swinging it open to show a very concerned Sam stood in the doorway. He looked at me with those big ever-worried eyes and I shot him my best ‘please don’t worry’ grin.

“I’m fine, Sam” I called out to him as I tried to listen in on the hushed words Dean was speaking. They conversed for a while, occasionally throwing glances at me as I rustled around in the bag of goodies Dean had supplied. Growing bored of not being involved with their conversation, I scooted back on the bed to lean back on the headboard and proceeded to flick through dozens of channels until I found something decent to watch. A few more minutes had passed and I’d munched my way through almost half a bag of Doritos when I heard the door close and it was just me and Dean again. He had a paper bag that Sam must’ve passed him, which he held up and pointed to.

“The blood stains came out of my clothes, although Sam said the people in the laundromat were giving him strange looks,” he laughed slightly, those striking eyes of his looking down into mine as he took a few steps closer. I laughed slightly, only imagining Sam’s awkwardness in that situation. I broke my gaze away from Dean for a few seconds, looking down at my hands before looking back up. I could tell he was hovering now, just waiting for me to say something.

“Dean I’m fine, you don’t have to stay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if you need me to” his hand ran over the stubble on his chin, his eyes not leaving me.

“Really, I’m ok. I’m probably just going to sit here and watch whatever this is-”

“It’s obviously Men in Black,” Dean scoffed. I smiled, finding comfort in the familiar snarky remark.

“Obviously - I don’t live under a rock Dean,” I rolled my eyes as I stood up, placing my hands on his chest. He was so warm to the touch that it was almost enticing me not to let go. The gentle thrum of his heartbeat was so soothing. But I did let go, and I spun him around to start ushering him to the door. As he was leaving, I grabbed my half eaten bag of chips and started munching again. He opened the door, stepping outside.

“Go back to your room Dean. I promise I’m ok. I don’t want you both hovering over me constantly making sure I’m fine; that will just make me feel worse,” I said as he spun to face me, nodding his head.

“Back to normal. Got it.”

“Great,” I said, sucking the tangy chip dust from my thumb. Dean suddenly reached out and snatched the half-eaten bag from my hand before quickly walking away.

“I’ll see you in the morning!” He shouted back at me before shovelling food into his mouth.

“You ass! I was eating those!” He shrugged in an overly animated fashion, not bothering to turn and look at me as he continued towards his room. I sighed, closing the door and locking it, sliding the chain across this time too. I padded back towards the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers up to my chin. As I started to drift off, the buzz of the movie still playing in the background, I smiled a little to myself:

Fucking Winchester.

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Up Next:

Chapter 6

[sosa2imagines]

I had my dance and now I'm where I belong.

Warning- Angst, cheating and hopeful fluff. ----------------------------------------------------- Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Completed -----------------------------------------------------

When they say love is blind it truly is blind cause all the red flags turn color blind. You had noticed changes in his behavior and you also noticed the little things he’d stop doing. Even when Bucky was in Wakanda you remained by his side like glue. Slowly he started to regain his memories and the old Bucky was back not completely though. So when he started to flirt with other girls or when someone random made a pass at him he never denied them you foolish thought he is acting his old 40s self just like Steve had told you once the evergreen womanizer so you ignored it till it was getting out of hand so one day you confronted him but he just said you are overreacting and it's cute to see you getting jealous and the confrontation would end up with a kiss followed by sex every single time when he did it again.

Thanos took a toll on all of you but thankfully everyone were back safe and sound. Tony took semi retirement and Clint too, Nat handle the tower Wanda was in and out cause Vision was in Wakanda and Steve you best friend and once upon a time crush was getting ready to return the stones. "Hey" you coo, "Hey" he beams at you "Ready?" Looking at the compass he looked at you with a sad smile "Yes as ever I will be" "Enjoy your dance Steve and know where you belong ok?" the true meaning behind your words were that you were begging him to have his dance with Peggy and to return back to you guys but that didn't happen as soon as Steve told Bucky not to do anything stupid and when he complained Steve is taking all the stupid with himself you knew he won't come back and just like that he was gone. You cried all night long and Bucky held on to you tight he was equally sad and cried along with you.

It had been fifteen days since Steve left and new recruits had joined Nat and you were training them Bucky helped in between but that didn't stop him from flirting with the girls Nat found it weird and you tried to cover it by saying he is missing Steve and everything is tough for him at the moment but Nat was not having none of it and banned Bucky from training the recruits. Soon he and Sam left on a mission in London and here begins the downfall of your relationship. "Sharon?" Bucky was shocked to see her "What are you doing here?" "Undercover Barnes shield sent me to help you guys" So just like that she was helping them and when they both got separated from Sam and their cover almost blew up Sharon thought it is a great idea to kiss Bucky and he kissed her back and one thing led to another for the time they were in London they had sex daily. When Sam found out he was furious but Bucky told him he would come clean to you but not in the way Sam had thought.

Once they were back Sharon accompanied them she told you all she was helping them in the mission. The day Bucky arrived he went straight to his old room instead of your shared one you decided to let him be it was not new for him to stay alone after a mission but for days Bucky avoided you your heart was paining the glob in your throat wanted to explode Nat was worried about you and Sharon was still living in the tower and now Bucky would only train with her and it killed you when he would talk with everyone except you day by day you were getting killed by the love of your life you would cry to sleep every night, Bucky would sleep far on his side of the bed he would only enter the room late in the night. You started to miss Steve terribly if he was here he would have helped you even kicked Bucky's ass. Weird sexual noises would come from Sharon's room but it was none of your concern except it was. Sam had enough he gave Bucky last warning to come clean and Bucky was ready as if he was tired hiding his 'relationship' with Sharon. It was like almost on purpose both of them decided to show you what was happening behind your back Bucky and Sharon were making out in your shared room you were standing there numb tears flowing freely you gave them few more minutes before opening your mouth "are you done?" Bucky sighed and got up he told Sharon to wait in her room on her way she smirked at you like she won some competition. "I’m sorry Y/n it's over I'm in love with Sharon, I have packed your bags please go back to your old room." You scoffed at him "Just her Buck? So what about those, who you flirt with?" Bucky was quiet he knew he deserve your venom. "I have loved you so deeply but James I can’t forgive you, maybe one day in the future, I have been stood by your side through every single thing that has happened to you and yet you betray me." "Can you give an hour please", he nodded and left the room. You open the packed bags just like you had thought he had packed the things he gifted you, you picked out every single of them and kept them on the bed. Once you were done it was time to face the music the time you were busy re packing since Sam and Wanda were out Bucky told Nat you two broke up hiding the real reason. So when Nat came and asked you what happened you went along with Bucky's lie but karma was in your favor Wanda and Sam had just arrived Sam called Bucky a liar Nat was confused that gave Wanda time to read your mind you begged them not to tell Tony the whole truth you were like sister to him and it took a lot of hard work and trust for Tony to forgive Bucky and you did not wanted to ruin what Steve had worked upon. "Where are you going Y/n?" Nat asks, Wanda was crying feeling your suffocating pain, Sam was saying sorry over and over for not telling you sooner but you forgave him, it's not his fault Bucky couldn't keep it in his pants. "I need some alone time Nat please I can't breathe here give me some time" "You call us everyday ok no call we will bring you back!" Wanda warned understanding your need to go away, you nodded hugging Wanda and Nat, Sam was furious "He should go not you" "No Sam please be nice to him for Steve" and with last look you left. Once the team knew about what had actually happened they gave Bucky hell for what he did to you. Bucky however was feeling very guilty for how things did go down he did love you at one point but that didn't stopped him and Sharon making things official just after a week you left. Things were awkward for him with the team.

Meanwhile in the past Steve did have his dance but he was not happy Peggy had moved on but that was not what was bothering him he was worried about you, he open his compass that had your photo truth is Peggy was his first love but you made home in his heart Peggy was only a memory he only loved you wanted a family with you but when he saw Bucky falling for you he took a step back the ever thinking about other's happiness he let Bucky take you away. Steve decided it was time to head back to his love but most importantly his best friend you.

----------------------------------------------------- Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Completed

[nayziiz]

Witness | CL16

Summary: In the shadowy world of Monaco's elite, the Leclerc family reigns supreme. Charles Leclerc, the charming middle son, maintains their pristine public image—until one rainy night, during a fit of rage, Charles does the unthinkable. A young woman witnesses his actions, and her terrified eyes haunt him. Consumed by guilt and fear of exposure, Charles embarks on a desperate search to find her before she can destroy his family’s legacy. As he delves deeper into Monaco's underbelly, Charles must confront his own darkness and the lengths he will go to protect his family.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x OC (Marie)

Warnings: Violence, blood, angst

Author's Note: Sorry for the delayed updates - life has been running circles around me this week. Hoping to get back into a stable routine again next week.

Masterlist

Charles desperately needed advice from Lorenzo on what to do, but he didn’t want to implicate his brother, with a baby on the way, nonetheless. It was his problem and he needed to clean up his mess. But more than that, he knew the person threatening him could do quite a bit of damage, because unlike Marie, this person had video footage. Worst of all, the video contained enough footage to clearly identify Marie, who would be seen as an accomplice to the murder since she didn’t report it.

Chapter 6

Just when Charles thought the damage control was done, he received word through one of his guards that someone else witnessed the murder. Not only did they see Charles kill a man in cold blood, but they saw Marie. They saw Marie run away and they saw that Charles did nothing to silence her permanently. They saw Charles take pity on her because he wanted to protect himself and his family.

Charles knew that he needed to protect her, whether she liked it or not. So, he sent his men out to keep an eye out for her, to steer any potential threats away from her. Of course she picked up on it after a day, but she tried her best to ignore it. She assumed he wanted to remind her of her promise to not tell anyone. Charles needed to speak with her too, to explain why he had his men following her again, that he wasn’t threatened by her, but that he wanted to make sure she stayed safe.

Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest idea to approach her late at night after her shift as she walked home. She could hear his footsteps behind her. She knew his men would never let someone follow her so closely in the dark without making their presence known. She could only assume it was Charles himself who was walking a few metres behind her. She came to an abrupt halt and spun around before stalking towards Charles who she could now make out under the misty moonlight.

“Is there a reason you’re following me in the fucking dark, Mr Leclerc?” She snapped at him once she was face-to-face with him.

“I realise this may look suspicious,” he began, but she interrupted him.

“Is this how it ends? Will you be bludgeoning me to death as well or have you found some other way to dispose of me?” Marie countered, but once she saw the colour drain from his face and his small smile fade, she knew she had overstepped. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. I didn’t think you’d be following me tonight.”

“You have every right to be mad at me, but please know that I will not be harming you at all, Ms Dupont. I assure you,” Charles insisted, his voice soft and tender as he spoke to her. “But, that doesn’t mean someone else won’t.”

“What do you mean?” Marie asked, confused.

“It has come to my attention that there was a third individual in the area that night who… witnessed the murder. They saw me. They saw you. And, now they are threatening me with video evidence if I don’t pay them quite a handsome amount of money. They are also painting you out to be an accomplice because there was no police report filed,” Charles explained.

“So, that’s why you have your men stationed around me?” Marie realised.

“It’s the least I can do after everything,” Charles replied. “You were an innocent witness, you shouldn’t have to be punished for something I did.”

Marie remained quiet for a moment as she contemplated his admission. She appreciated the fact that he was upfront about the blackmailer.

“How much do they want in exchange for their silence?” Marie wondered.

“5,000,000 Euros” Charles mumbled.

“Damn,” Marie muttered before scratching around in her purse. “I have 2 Euros to help you out, you know, since I’m an accomplice now. I’m sure you can handle the rest, no?”

It took Charles a few seconds to register her attempted joke before he chuckled at her making light of the situation.

“If I had my way, they wouldn’t get a cent, especially from you,” Charles informed her and attempted a half-hearted smile. Marie mirrored his weak smile and looked around, spotting several of Charles’s men nearby.

“Would you like to walk me home? We’re halfway there anyway,” she wondered.

“Of course,” Charles agreed before they started walking side-by-side in the direction of her apartment building.

She didn’t plan on drifting off to sleep, but there was something about the silence of the night and having someone in the apartment with her that made her mind relax for the first time in weeks. She may not have trusted Charles completely, but he had proven to her on several occasions that he was in fact not going to harm her.

He carried her to her bedroom and covered her with her blanket before retreating back into the living room area. He tried to tidy up a bit, but didn’t know where most of the things went, so he gave up and went to rinse out their coffee mugs. When he dried his hands, he turned around and surveyed the open plan apartment. The last time he was in such a humble home was when he was still a young boy before his parents made a name for themselves. He thought back to some fond memories of reading books with his mom and watching racing with his father in their first family home. He choked back his tears reminiscing of a life with no worry and pulled out his wallet. He left all the cash he had on him on the counter for Marie to find the following morning when she woke up. He also left a note with his phone number on it, just in case she needed to get hold of him for whatever reason.

He didn’t want to leave one of his men in her apartment, as much as he wanted to for her safety, but he respected her boundaries and privacy. Instead, he arranged with the building manager that one of his men disguise himself as a roaming security guard on her floor while a second guard remained stationed in the building lobby, observing the people coming and going and a third guard at the building’s back entrance for good measure. There was no way he was going to let her get hurt because of him.

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Taglist: @headinthecloudssblog

[loreleismusings99]

Late Night Repairs

In which the quiet becomes a bit too much for Mark to handle.

Hi folks, I'm back for a little bit because I really wanted to participate in #spookyseasoninthebarrens2024 by @jmathesonandsiblings so I wrote this quick little thing for my baby girl, Mark! :3

This is for prompt 6: Haunted House

Happy Halloween, y'all 👻

Warnings: isolation, auditory/visual/tactile hallucinations, grief, fear/anxiety, hopelessness, brief discussion of sleep deprivation, description of someone suffering/dying from suffocation/asphyxia, discussion of death, eye horror, blood, missing loved ones, angst (technically). Please, please, please let me know if I missed anything that should be added to this list.

The soft beeps of the CO2 scrubber’s emergency alarm are deceptively loud and make Mark jump as it cuts through the impossibly still silence that comes with the night. One thing he still hasn’t gotten used to after being here for 23 days is how dead nighttime is on Mars. The increased thermal energy that comes with the sun usually yields soft winds that lightly rustle the HAB canvas and make small clouds of sand hit the airlock door, making it sound like he’s inside a rain stick. Once the sun sets though, an eerie silence creeps in with the sunset’s cold, blue, Mie-scattered light. 

Maybe he’s just really missing having his crewmates with him, but he’s quickly started to hate the stillness that comes with living on a dead planet by himself. The more unsavory side effects of his isolation are much more unbearable--there’s something about not knowing when his solitude will end that makes the emptiness of his surroundings so much worse than the isolation training module he went through back on Earth. For the past few nights, every other corner he turns has an extra shadow he didn’t account for; the occasional puff of wind feels just a little too much like a hand and the whirring of the water reclaimer and heating unit running sounds devastatingly like a murmur. It was easier to ignore the first couple of nights--filling the silence as best as he could with episodes of Happy Days and Commander Lewis’s disco. Sometimes though--when he needs to charge his iPad or when he hyper-focuses on his work and forgets to turn something on to fill the space with more than the sounds of his breathing and the rustling of tools--his mind fills the void for him. Sometimes it’s a persistent ringing in his ears, others it’s a convincing recreation of Martinez’s laugh muffled by the walls of the HAB and his memory, making him tear through the HAB trying to find his friend only to be met with nothing but his loneliness. 

He finishes typing out his log for the day, outlining the maintenance tasks he completed to keep his tragically high-tech tomb operational (if he’s gonna die here, he might as well do so warm and breathing clean air), and stands up out of his chair with a strained groan. Scratching at the stubble growing on his cheek, Mark walks across the main room of the HAB bubble to the complaining machine and takes off the white panel hiding the ducts, intake valves, and pumps of the robust Four Bed CO2 scrubber. The mechanical engineer takes some time listening to the motors and pressure-driven sounds of the machine, trying to locate a clue as to what part of the damn thing is blocked up this time. A soft whistle coming from the interface between the pre-cooler and a pipe connecting it to bed A-2 catches Mark’s attention, and he sees a small chunk of ice growing around the collar keeping the pipe in place at the valve. 

“Well there’s your problem,” Mark utters under his breath as he turns the apparatus off using a panel immediately to the right of the box containing it and slips on a pair of cryo-gloves before touching the parts surrounding the cooling element, lightly dusting off the collection of ice crystals surrounding the collar before carefully removing it and cleaning the ice clogging the mouth of the duct. He re-mates the duct and the valve, torquing it back to a satisfying tension, and turns the machine back on, the pumps chugging away happily now that the blockage is gone. 

Mark nods and puts the cover back onto the front of the scrubber’s casing before turning around to append a record of the repair to the end of his log. Or, he would if he wasn’t frozen in place staring out the porthole in the airlock door across the room from him. The scene outside is dark and barely perceivable due to the small diameter of the window and the contrast of the bright LED lights, but your piercing stare is something he’s profoundly accustomed to seeing--just… not outside the HAB’s airlock. He tries to move but the muscles in his legs merely twitch uselessly with the idea of walking towards the glass of the porthole. He tries to blink, but an impending sense of doom prevents him from attempting to break the unexpected eye contact. His heart clenches agonizingly in his chest, and he can feel the beginnings of a sob bubble up from his chest. Logically he knows this is a hallucination--likely made worse by stress and sleep deprivation--but that doesn’t stop him from calling out to you in a horse, pitiful squeak. His knees buckle slightly before the lights above him flicker and shut off, plunging him and the phantom image of you into near-full darkness.

 Your face is now only dimly illuminated by a light that didn’t go out at the center of the room, but it’s enough for Mark to see angry red petechiae begin to bloom across your face, lips, and the delicate skin surrounding your now blood-shot eyes. The warmth drains from your face and his ears begin to ring as he watches you open your mouth, frothy and bloody fluid pouring beyond your lips. He’s shaking now as he watches you scream silently at him through the fluid pouring down your chin, pins and needles accosting his hands and feet as he finally musters the strength to turn away from your dying, angry visage and squeeze his eyes shut.  

“This--this isn’t real, there’s no one there…” he mutters to himself, tears streaming down his cheeks as he tries to calm his breathing down. He opens his eyes again to discover that the lights either turned back on or were never off in the first place and he starts to lower his hackles, the muscles in his neck and shoulders beginning to relax. Slowly, Mark turns back around and looks through the porthole to find nothing staring back at him. Mark lets out a relieved, shaky breath before running a hand down his face and walking back to his chair to update his log. Typing the details of his repair with shaking hands he begins to properly sob and has to pause, scooting the chair back and winding an arm around his middle, the other raised to clasp his hand over his mouth to try to stop himself from screaming in grief and fear at both what his brain just conjured up and the very real possibility of never seeing you again and leaving you behind to mourn him. The force of his anguish makes him fold in on himself and he continues to sit there, trying to calm himself down at least for long enough to finish his log and get to bed. 

After a bit, he feels the temperature drop and a shiver shoots down his spine. He goes rigid and his sobs stop abruptly and a soft, high-pitched, and short-lived whistle coming from somewhere else in the HAB commands his attention. The same feeling of dread oozes back into his chest as he listens to faint taps sound from behind him, getting louder as whatever is creating them gets closer to his chair and stops, letting emptiness fill the soundscape of the main lab space. In the silence, Mark can hear the blood rushing in his ears and his shaky breathing. With his eyes closed it almost begins to feel like he’s in his space EVA suit back on the Hermes. The sound of his breathing tapers off as he quiets enough to hold his breath and try to listen for either the sounds of the HAB or anything that would alert him to the presence of… something, anything behind him. He’s about to let out his held breath when he feels shockingly cold fingers lightly wrap around the back of his neck, causing a terrified wail to rip out of his lungs as he stands up out of his chair and sees… nothing behind him. 

Mark continues to stand and stare silently at the false wall behind him, raising a hand to touch the warm skin of the back of his neck and feeling goosebumps bloom across it. He basks in the violently loud silence before the tension is broken by the sound of the HAB’s temperature control unit letting out a shrill, piercing tone alerting him to a new malfunction in its system.

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Thanks for reading!

works referenced:

4 Bed CO2 scrubber

The Martian Fan-Made Timeline

Wind on Mars

Sunsets on Mars -> Mie Scattering experiment!

Pathology of Asphyxial Death MAJOR CW: death, and suffocation both described in text and shown in images.

[crushribbons]

𝕗𝕒𝕚𝕣 𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕖

summary: Bobby Moch makes for one passive-aggressive roommate. (pt. 1/?)

cw: 5.5k words, modern!au, roommate!bobby, light/medium shorty hunt x reader, light suggestive content (18+ ONLY), drug use, fem reader. this is a work of fiction about the character portrayed in tbitb and not affiliated at all with the actual historical figure (like duh?) requests are open cuties

a/n: i wanna smoke the shit that got those white boys to the olympics xx laney

8-track for the series: 1・2・3・4・5・6・7・8

“Fine. The final offer I will accept is: you get the pizza, I pick the movie, and you roll up.”

“How is that a good deal for me?”

“You get to benefit from my impeccable taste in movies.”

“Oh, please, Bobby–we’re watching Horrible Bosses again, aren’t we?”

Her roommate grinned from ear to ear. “You bet your fuckin’ boot we are.” She groaned in reluctant acceptance and began searching the name of the nearest pizza place that didn’t just microwave drywall and put it in a box. Bobby dictated demands for extra breadsticks and beverages that she ignored.

Once the pizza had been ordered, she slid her phone into her back jeans pocket and told him she’d walk the eight blocks to pick it up “IF,” she pointed a finger at the man clad in his WSU crewneck and narrowed her eyes. “If you roll. It’s the least you can do, golddigger.”

Bobby threw a hand up to his chest in outraged offense. “Golddigger? Darling, I may have married you for the money but to say it out loud…so very gauche.”

“It’s a good thing you’re pre-law. You can talk me into fucking anything,” she grumbled as she pulled on a jacket and pulled the hood up. Thunder had been making threats of a rainstorm all afternoon, and now that the sun had set, fat droplets were beginning to fall against the windows of their ground-floor apartment. She peered out at the darkness and grimly hoped that she could trek there and back without getting too soaked. 

Bobby went into his room while she pulled on shoes and came back waving the plastic baggie of bud he’d scored from one of many suppliers on the pre-law track. It was something of an epidemic among the students, Bobby included, who swore they’d end it all if they had to read one more book about tort reform. “I’ll have them ready by the time you traipse back in here,” he promised, settling down at the small desk they did homework at and pulling a rolling tray and stack of papers toward him.

“Tight this time, Robert.”

“I’m always tight, sweetheart.” 

It was a wonder his roommate’s eyes weren’t permanently stuck rolled back in her skull. Moving in with Bobby in his off-campus apartment had seemed like the perfect option when her junior-year housing had fallen through at the last minute, but she’d neglected to take into account that Bobby would be there. To his credit, he was a fastidiously clean housemate and always did his dishes; he even often cleaned her room for her on the late nights where she was stuck in the library tearing her hair out over yet another batch of assignments. 

But his chatterbox nature, which she had hoped and prayed died down significantly when he was at home, did nothing of the sort. If anything, the captive audience of a girl he’d previously only gotten to squawk at a few times a week egged him on to new heights of talkativeness. She often woke up to him already standing in her doorway and halfway through a conversation: “...but then SHE said that she’d call the police on HIM, so they were both, like, staring each other down, and the whole class is dead silent while this is happening, and–”

“Bobby, what time is it.”

“–and then he–5:45, why?–then HE gets all in her face about how he has a room full of witnesses to this, which, by the way, I was filming the whole thing, and…”

After a few weeks though, the constant drone of his chatter started soothing and comforting her after long days. She could come home, throw her bag down and dive into the nearest pair of sweatpants available, and he would trail behind her the whole time, recounting his entire day starting with the exact minute he woke up and what he had eaten for breakfast. It was reliable, monotonous, and really, kind of nice to just lean against his legs while they watched something dumb on TV and let his voice wash over her.

Another perk of living with Bobby was that he was starting to get pretty good at rolling joints.

She exhaled a long line of smoke and leaned back on the couch, examining the roach pinched between her thumb and forefinger. “Not bad, Moch,” she managed to huff out before a coughing fit overcame her. The smoke settled too heavy in her lungs and made her face turn red as she hacked her breathing back to normal. Bobby was watching her sideways as he took a hit off his own joint, pulled it into his chest, and held it there for a moment with lips pressed tightly together.

“You caught me on a bad day last time,” he eked out, trying to hold the smoke in until it sputtered out from between his lips and he followed it, exhaling strongly and blowing smoke all over the pizza that lay in front of them on the coffee table. Six of the eight pieces were missing, and as the weed wrapped itself like taffeta around her brain, she decided that it would be best if they finished off the remaining two as soon as humanly possible. “My fingers were super tired and I rolled you a sub-par product, that’s just the truth.”

“Well, all is forgiven after these. Oh.” She stretched her arm forward to place her dying joint in the handmade ashtray she had painted during their forced roommate-bonding trip to a paint-your-own pottery studio. It bore the image of a stick-figure her, smiling and the sun shining, next to a stick-figure Bobby who was tied to a chair and whose mouth was covered securely with duct tape. He had dragged her out to the studio on the worst day of her period, and documenting her feelings towards him at that particular time had been very important to her. “I forgot to tell you. Speaking of fingers being tired, guess who asked me out on a daaaaate,” she said, singing the last few words in a way that came out creepier than intended.

Bobby frowned and did likewise with his joint. His eyes were pink and glassy at this point, and it seemed to take him a few extra brain cells to try and remember names right now. “Who?”

“Shorty Hunt.” Bobby’s eyebrows flew up and she tried to laugh but it dissolved quickly into another cough, her lungs still struggling to keep up with his disproportionately strong ones. Yelling for four hours a day, minimum, during crew practice gave him the lung capacity of a whale. Hence also his ability to talk ad nauseam. 

“A date? You?”

“I know, who is she?” she said. It was a joke, but an accurate one, and it rankled. Between her schoolwork and the on-campus job she needed to make her half of the rent, she had forgotten to leave time for romance, and very rarely went out with anyone. She vaguely remembered kissing someone on a night that, to her drunken memory, seemed Halloween-ish. She knew that if she were to look at a calendar right now and add up how long it had been since October, she’d probably go the same way Bobby did when he thought about tort reform. 

Bobby pulled his legs up and tucked them criss-cross as he continued to ponder this development. He looked so cute like this, she thought with a dreamy little smile on her face. Being high always softened the edges of everything, including the many irritants of her roommate. He was wearing her favorite ensemble of his, although he had no idea: a navy blue sweatshirt, plaid boxer pajama shorts, and thick, cozy socks that pooled around his ankles. His frame, which she found adorable, was tucked even smaller than usual on the couch next to her. Weed made him want to shrink away, he always said.

It was the time of day when the product that he carefully combed through his hair every morning was starting to lose its hold, and a few stray pieces fell into his eyes as she watched him work through his intoxicated state to form a normal sentence.

“Shorty Hunt…” he mused. His eyes drifted up to the TV, where Jason Bateman and Charlie Day were frantically vacuuming cocaine off the ground. “He’s a good-looking young man. One of our finest.” The rain was still pouring outside, and she slid her feet under his legs to keep them warm.

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“You should do it,” said Bobby, but it didn’t convince her, which surprised her a little. He never had a bad word to say about any of his teammates, although he would sometimes come up with very cruel nicknames targeting their masculinity if he caught them not giving their all in the shell. Her high was making her question a lot of things, one of them being why Bobby’s mouth had settled into such a humorless line. It was cute, seeing him try to be serious.

“Maybe I will,” she replied carefully. “What would be something fun we could do?”

“I’m not your damn day planner.” The words snapped out of Bobby’s mouth and slapped her in the face, leaving her in such shock that she couldn’t form a reply until Bobby colored and added on with a sheepish tone and nervous grin, “I mean, if I plan your dates for you, you’re just going to end up doing a lot more of this.” He swept his arm in front of him, indicating the pizza, movie, and still-smoldering joints. 

She had no idea what was happening. The two of them had discussed men, women, and dating prospects of all sorts over the past two years, and Bobby had never done worse than roll his eyes when she inquired after the shy and silent Don Hume and told her, “Honey, there aren’t enough hammers in the world to break that turtle out of its shell.” She had scolded him for thinking you could smash a turtle out of its own shell and they had laughed and never talked about Hume in that context again. 

Although…Come to think of it, she’d gotten similar brush-offs from the coxswain in the past regarding his friends and teammates. As they settled into comfortable silence on the couch, a stoned stupor heavy in the air, she tried to recall whom else he’d dismissed as romantic options for her. She was unable to snatch one from the depths of her memory before the opportunity presented itself for her to lay her head in Bobby’s lap and she took it, her eyes sliding shut immediately as she inhaled his scent of laundry detergent, cologne, and sweet, skunky smoke. 

Her last thought before the weed closed her eyes gently for her and she drifted off to sleep was that Bobby really was so cute. I gotta stop smoking this strain, the last rational part of her thought to itself, then she was lost to the sensation of his fingers threading into her hair and stroking absent-mindedly.

On Monday, she told Shorty that she would go out to dinner with him, and on Friday, they went to dinner. It was nice; Shorty’s conversation didn’t revolve entirely around rowing, and his winning smile made her blush more than once as he held open doors and pulled out her chair for her. When their dessert plates had been cleared away and the waiter inquired whether they would like some coffee or another glass of wine, their eyes met, and a shared glint that said “And pay these prices for it?” made Shorty suppress a smile and say, “I think we’ll just take the check, please.” 

They walked down the lamp-lit sidewalk that led to her apartment at a snail’s pace, lingering beside each other and chatting happily. When they reached the front door of her building, Shorty turned to face her and said, “Well, thank you for a lovely evening.” His self-assured demeanor slipped as he pressed his lips together and glanced up at her door. The moonlight hitting his dark hair and the two glasses of wine she’d had with dinner were casting him in a very appetizing light.

“Thank you, George. I had a lovely time.” She copied him in glancing at the door, and when she brought her eyes back to his, he was looking at her like she was a delicate thing that he thought might blow away in the blustery wind whipping around them. It made her mouth go dry. Her gaze slid down to his lips while she said, “If you want, I have a bottle of Malbec we could open up.” She had wanted her voice to come out sultry and enticing; strained and whimpery were better descriptors for how it actually sounded. “I know you said that’s your favorite…”

While Shorty stood behind her, patiently waiting for her to fumble her keys in the lock and finally push the door open, she wondered why she had ever put off dating this long. She hoped hard that he would end up staying the night. The image of the lanky Shorty walking into the kitchen for breakfast in one of Bobby’s borrowed sweatshirts, the hemline of which would probably hit him mid-torso, made her giggle, and Shorty followed suit, asking “What is it?”

“I–oh, nothing!” Her key turned at last and she pushed the door open, twisting around to look up at him. She bit her lip when she saw how he was eyeing her up and down. “Don’t forget about Bobby. Try to be quiet if you can; we won’t have a moment of peace if he learns there’s fresh ears to be talked off,” she said, and he grinned.

“I am familiar with Mr. Moch’s work.” Shorty closed his lips and mimed locking them and tossing the key. 

They slipped into the lobby and passed several doors until they reached the door marked “109”. She pulled her keys out once more to unlock it, but before she could, Shorty grabbed her shoulders, turned her around and pressed her back to the door, and kissed her. It wasn’t forceful, but she felt every muscle relax and melt into him as his soft lips melded with hers. She grabbed at the frayed tie he’d worn to dinner and used it to pull his body closer to hers. The key sat, forgotten, in the lock for several minutes while they made out, trying hard to keep their moans and sighs to a minimum since they were still in the middle of the hall, after all.

She broke apart from him and all she could gasp out was, “Come on, my room.” Shorty’s hair was sticking up wildly from the place she’d run her hands through it and he looked like a man possessed as he watched her unlock the door and push her way inside. The lights were off, save for the small lamp her and Bobby always left on if they went to bed before the other. The sight made her exhale quietly in relief. It was well past midnight, and Bobby had probably had his “smoke and two beers”, their favorite shared Friday night delicacy, and fallen asleep long ago.

The tiled kitchen was cool on her bare feet as she kicked off her shoes and jogged over to the wine rack on the counter next to the fridge. The Malbec (the only bottle on the rack that had cost more than $10) and two glasses in hand, she ran to Shorty and tugged him by his belt into her bedroom. He was laughing in delight as she pushed him down on her bed and set the glasses on her nightstand, the only light in the room filtering in from the hallway as she climbed over him and began kissing him and undoing his tie simultaneously. 

When Shorty’s hips bucked, on instinct, into her core, she vowed to never go this long without a date again. She wasn’t sure she saw a life-long future with Shorty, but she did see a short-term future of pretty spectacular sex with the tall, well-built gentleman in her bed right now, and that sounded plenty appealing to her. 

They continued kissing for a while, their tongues in each other’s mouths. She peeked at him and saw that his eyebrows were quirked upwards in an expression of desperate desire. The sight made her panties dampen. The irritating reminder of responsibility that came with casual sex snuck up and tapped her impatiently on the shoulder, and she groaned as she pulled her lips away from his and said, “Lemme make sure I have condoms.” Shorty panted and followed her reach towards her nightstand, but when she stretched across his chest, her tits, about to fall out of the lacy shirt she’d worn on the date, grazed his face and a little moan slipped out of him. He reached up to palm her over her shirt and the action caught her off guard so badly that she yelped and knocked one of the waiting wine glasses off her nightstand. The glass hit the floor and shattered, causing them both to bolt upright as Shorty slurred, “Y’ok?”

“Shit, yes, just a clumsy idiot,” she muttered. Frustrated by the building desire inside her stomach that demanded attention, she swung a leg off the bed, careful to miss the pile of glass shards. “I’ll just clean this up real quick.”

“How ‘bout you just get back here and let me do that later,” Shorty propositioned, a smirk on his kiss-stained mouth that made her tremble. 

Still, the promise of glass stabbing into the bottom of her bare foot after she inevitably forgot it was there was enough to make her reply, “How ‘bout you pour yourself the other glass and wait for me to come back.” She leaned forward and placed one hand over the groin of his pants, a tent already very evident, and smiled against his parted lips. “I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

“This night has been well worth the twenty laps I’m gonna have to run tomorrow when I miss a.m. practice.”

“Already planning on missing practice?” “Well, I assume you’ll need someone here to help you walk again.” The line made her roll her eyes and scoff, in spite of herself. “Don’t write a check your ass can’t cash, Hunt.”

“I wasn’t planning on using my ass; I was thinking more along the lines of my c–” He was calling after her as she shut the bedroom door behind her with a swat.

She stumbled blearily to the kitchen, lust addling her mind as she giggled to herself and fantasized about George and what he would do to her when she dove back into bed with him. She was so lost in her thoughts about what those powerful arms and taut core could do that she didn’t notice the kitchen not being empty until its only other occupant cleared his throat and said, “I’d ask how it’s going, but clearly, the answer is ‘pretty ok’.” 

“Bobby!” She jumped and grasped the countertop for support. “You scared the shit out of me. I told you to never wait ominously in the dark for me.”

“The lights were on already. Since I am not seated in an armchair and did not flick on a lamp to dramatic effect, I think I’m in the clear.” He had a beer bottle in front of him at the table, and was wearing a t-shirt and boxer shorts again. She wondered why she was noticing that.

She rummaged around the cabinet under the sink until she found some dirty rags and a small bucket. Taking them in hand, she rose to her feet and turned back to Bobby. “Thanks for telling me to do this.” Her cheeks flushed a little as he continued staring her down, emotion indiscernible on his face. “Didn’t know how bad I needed a date. How was–”

“You like him?” Bobby asked, cutting her off. Her mouth opened and closed in a fish-like mechanical movement a few times. 

“He’s…he’s hot, Bob. I don’t think we’ll be picking out china anytime soon, but, God, he’s hot,” she finally acquiesced with a gush, and she thought she noticed Bobby sit up a little taller, a little more stiffly. “But I am sorry to have missed smoke and two beers night–”

He cut her off again, and she felt the frustration that had been largely sexual in nature start to turn Moch-avellian. “Well, I’m sure you won’t be having time for smoking with little old me anymore when there are tall rowers to deflower.”

She frowned. The strap of her top fell down one shoulder and she pulled it back up without thought. She was sure her hair and makeup were both too mussed for him to take her seriously at the present moment, but she found herself too exasperated to care. 

“You done, drama king? I’m gonna head back in there.” She nodded towards her bedroom and started walking towards it. Bobby jumped to his feet and followed after her. He wasn’t done. 

She’d seen Bobby be mildly possessive before; being the youngest of three boys had given him survival of the fittest instincts that usually only reared their head when she tried to reach for his snacks from the pantry. Sometimes, though, when the wrong mood struck him, he would use his powers of speech for pure evil, and could spit vitriol about anyone who even looked at him the wrong way. Clearly, tonight had brought on one such mood.

“I’m sure I won’t see either of you tomorrow, or the next day, or maybe even the day after that, so have tons of fun making babies and try to remember to send me a save the date when you mail them out. If you can teach that knucklehead to read quickly enough for him to write his own vows,” he practically spat, and she found herself agog at him.

“Robert Moch, what the hell has gotten into you?” she breathed. “You love Shorty.”

Bobby balked. “You didn’t have to start dating him.”

“You told me to, you complete ass.” 

She should have known that logic was powerless in the face of Bobby Moch. He spluttered for a long while, his arms moving up and down in gestures that she was sure were supposed to mean something. Despite his mere five feet and eight inches, he could manage to take up a lot of space when he wanted to. When they stood face to face the way they were and she didn’t have any shoes on, he was a few inches taller than her. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know how gross it would be to hear you two slopping and giggling all over each other.” He adopted an exaggerated face of disgust like a toddler that had been offered stewed carrots, then began simpering in a poor imitation of Shorty’s voice: “Oh, baby, you feel so good. I hope I can find my way out of your pussy later.”

“Shut UP!” she hissed, glancing over at her closed bedroom door and hoping Bobby’s rude mockery hadn’t carried far enough for Shorty to hear. “That is so mean. You are being mean, Bobby, why are you being so mean to him?” Bobby had never taken shots at any of his teammates’ intelligence before, other than passing jockish insults disguising genuine affection for the boys. Besides, even if he did, they’d probably let him have it just as hard, once they managed to catch their breath from dragging his ass over the finish line. “What are you–” she scoffed before she could stop herself, “–jealous?”

Bobby’s jaw ground as he clenched his teeth together and backed a few steps away from her. She hadn’t even noticed that they were nearly nose-to-nose. His bright blue eyes were electrified.

“No,” he said, voice dangerously low. It was the shortest sentence he’d ever spoken in his life and it freaked her out when he didn’t continue.

“Well, we’ll go back to his place then so you don’t have to hear all the slopping.” She knew she was being petty. But he had always been terrible at articulating what was actually bothering him; another side effect of his upbringing was the passive aggressive manner of arguing that his mother had ingrained in him.

He swatted a hand at her and she saw a little bit of the fight in his shoulders dissipate. “No, no. Don’t bother. I’m just…just tired. I’m gonna head to bed.” She watched as he passed her, the beer bottle hanging loose in his fingertips and his jaw still set, and entered his room across the hall from hers. He didn’t exactly slam the door, but her stomach was still in confused knots when it shut and she was left standing alone, staring after him and wondering what was actually plaguing him to make him lash out at her and George.

George. “Oh, shit!” she hissed and trotted into her own room, where Shorty was still laying on the bed. The almost-fight with Bobby leaked out of her head with worrying rapidity when she took in his bare chest and legs, stretched out and waiting for her, and the devilish grin he was wearing while he said, “Thought maybe you’d forgotten about me.”

The broken glass was not cleaned up until the next morning.

When she had disposed of the shards and the bucket holding them, she crawled back into her bed next to Shorty, who was still groaning himself awake and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The sex had, as predicted, been amazing, but the nagging thought that she should make her intentions with him clear was eating at her. Shorty was too sweet to blindside.

“Hey,” she began in a whisper, trailing a finger up his neck and chin to tap on his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut but cracked one open to peek at her. 

“Mm…good morning, sweetheart.”

Something inside her bristled. Before she had time to examine why, she decided to just plow forward. “Last night was so wonderful.” Shorty smiled and she felt her resolve weakening when she saw how the corners of his eyes crinkled. Maybe she could see a world where they went out. She tried to imagine sitting on the couch and watching shitty movies with him, or going on a pottery-painting date, or going clothes shopping and waiting for him to decide between two identical light green shirts (“This one is mint and this one is sage. You seriously can’t tell the difference?”). For some reason, her brain refused to conjure the image of Shorty in those settings. But he was still looking up at her expectantly, all doe eyes and mussed-up hair. 

“I was wondering if you would just want…kind of….uh…” She gestured to him and then to her, only three articles of clothing present between the two of them. “Keep this nice and casual.”

Nerves ate her alive as Shorty’s eyebrows raised and he let out a small “huh.” She gritted her teeth and started to apologize but he cut her off gently. “That is a-ok with me, baby. You’re a fuckin’ firecracker and if that’s what you want?” He pulled his hands out from under the duvet and offered his upturned wrists to her. “I am just a man.”

“Fuck, thanks, Shorty,” she smiled, relief washing over her. 

“Wanna keep things casual right now?” he asked with a wink. Heat flooded through her body and she wanted very much to say yes, yes I would, but her eyes fell to the digital alarm clock on her bedside table, and she shot upright.

“Dude, it’s 8:15! You can still make it to practice if you go now!” Shorty swore and sprang out of bed, pulling on clothes in whatever order he could reach them, catching the shoe she threw with expert reflexes and putting it on before his slacks. “I’ll text Joe and tell him to bring you extra clothes!” “Got some in back of my car,” he replied, but his words were muffled by the spare toothbrush that she pulled out of her dresser drawer, ripped free from its cardboard packaging, and shoved into his mouth. He hopped out of the room, only one leg in his pants, and down to the bathroom. She shouted directions for where to find toothpaste and soap and he grunted in affirmation as she heard the faucet turn on.

When she bent down to peer in the fridge and find something quick for him to eat on his way to the docks, she noticed a yellow post-it note stuck to the freezer door with a WSU magnet. 

Dead dove (waffles) do not eat (you may eat).

A sigh of gratitude and laugh of delight huffed out of her at the same time as she opened the freezer and pulled three frozen waffles out of the new box Bobby had purchased. Their spat from last night had been all but forgotten, and shame swirled inside her as she popped two of the waffles into the toaster and thought about how defeated her friend had been when he’d gone to bed. Clearly, he had awoken at the appropriate time and gone to the docks for practice already, but the note he’d left behind for her made an annoying little tear form in one eye. An annoying little tear for an annoying little guy.

Luckily, Shorty barreled into the kitchen before any more tears formed. At that exact moment, the waffles jumped from the toaster and startled her, but he just yanked them out of the grate, held one in his mouth while balancing the other in the hand that was also trying to button the dress shirt he’d worn last night. He pecked her cheek and mumbled through his mouthful of food, “Gimme a call, ya know, whenever!” 

Then he was gone, the slight rattle of the front door as it flew shut behind him the only evidence that she hadn’t just been standing in the kitchen, defrosted frozen waffle in hand, the entire morning. While she sat and ate her meager breakfast (her stomach didn’t seem able to handle much more than the waffle and a glass of water), she held the post-it between her fingers and considered it. Bobby was thoughtful, so thoughtful. Thoughtful and sweet. Cute, kind, sweet.

And jealous of the boys she dated. 

Which, she argued with herself, could be easily attributed to his possessive nature. She was his roommate and built-in best friend, and the prospect of her spending a lot more time with Shorty must have irked him because it would be taking time away from their hangouts. Right? 

The rebuttal to her argument was a completely unbidden remembrance of the time she had fallen asleep on the couch the night before an exam with two textbooks open on her legs and highlighters scattered all around her. She had blearily awoken to the sight of Bobby taking the books off of her and organizing her mess of supplies on the coffee table. She had kept pretending to be asleep as he laid the wool blanket that lived on the back of the couch over her and tucked it securely around her. A small smile had fought its way to her lips but vanished quickly when he leaned forward, smoothed the hair off her forehead, and whispered, “‘Night, sweetheart.”

That same thing inside her that had bristled when Shorty used the nickname stretched out and purred. Morning sunlight was starting to stream into the kitchen as she continued staring at the post-it in her hand, and the light catching it made her realize that there was writing on the back, as well. She turned it over and tried to decipher Bobby’s chicken scratch. 

I’m sorry about last night.

Next to this, he had clearly written a few letters then scratched them out. She couldn’t make out anything other than an “L”, but he had dashed an “X” and an “O” after the scribble. God, it was so very Bobby of him to apologize via post-it. It should have frustrated her more than it did. His casual acquaintances never guessed at his passive-aggression because he was always yelling about one thing or another, but she was one of the few that knew that the yelling usually concealed something deeper. 

Grabbing her phone from where it was charging on her desk, she checked the time to see that there were still a few minutes before 8:30. Practice hadn’t officially started yet. Shorty had shared his location with her last night when they were meeting up for dinner, and she quickly checked it, seeing with a chuckle that he had made it to the docks already. Breaking several traffic laws in the process, no doubt. 

She pulled up her and Bobby’s conversation. It was the only one pinned to the top of her inbox. The last sent message, from Bobby and the final in a series of twelve he had sent with no break, read “Also it’s probably going to rain today so bring an umbrella.” She pressed her lips together, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

thanks for the dead dove!! also i’m sorry too about last night :( dinner tonight with your fav roommate?

The reply came back in a matter of seconds.

You can read my mind, or somethin’ <3

or somethin’

masterlist

[rosie-rosem]

i know

❥ pairing: dad!husband!heeseung x mom!wife!femreader

❥ genre: fluff to angst to fluff, comfort, parents!au,

❥ summary: heeseung is a busy man, always gone at work or too tired to do anything but sleep. hyunjae, their son misses his dad, and so does y/n, so when she expresses her feelings to heeseung how does he react?

❥ warnings: crying?, grammar mistakes, not proofread

][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

WC: 2.2k

A/N: hope you enjoy :) i felt like making something like this all day, now i’ve finally pushed myself to do so.

“hi baby, how was your nap?” you ask you your sleepy son whom came from his room into the kitchen, he nods softly with pouted lips. You clean off your hands after tidying up a bit and walk over to him. “where’s daddy?” he asks. “it’s only 3 pm, he’s still at work” you answer him, he sighes. you sigh back then kneel down to him, “how about we got visit his office, hm?” you ask your pouty son. he shakes his head, “no” he quickly says while looking down. “why?” you turn you head to the side like a dog trying to get a better look at his face. “I don’t like him” his bottom lip quivers slightly. “he’s never never here, and he doesn’t love me.” he frowns once again, you body stiffens at the boy’s words about his dad. “hyunjae, your dad does love you, a lot! but he’s just extra busy with everything at work right now, okay?” you say to him, rubbing you cheek softly. he soon begins to cry, “does daddy talk to you at least?” he sniffles while speaking. “oh? why do you mean?” you wipe his tears, “he never really talks to me, but does he talk to you mommy?” he asks. you close your mouth and think for a bit, heeseung never really talks to either of you when he gets home. “a bit, yeah.” you lied, not wanting him to get even more upset. “well at least he talks to his wife.” he crosses his arms and you chuckle before patting his head.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you upset hun” you hug him softly, he returns the hug before saying “it’s okay, but i don’t really feel like visiting daddy.” he opens up. you nod “okay.” you understand how he feels, you’ve been ‘ignored’ the past few weeks as well, and it’s very difficult on your end too. yet, you want to keep a good attitude around hyunjae because he’s so important to you and seeing him hurt is painful.

you and hyunjae decided to watch a movie together before heeseung came home, just because. “what movie should we watch?” you ask him, “mm…cars!” he says, already spread out all over the couch, you chuckle “sounds good!” you put the movie on and you both snuggle close together while watching it.

it’s around 5 pm when the movie ends, and you begin to make dinner while hyunjae plays with some of his toys. heeseung still hasn’t gotten back from work, which is normal around this time, but you really are hoping he’ll come on time tonight. you were making a simple dinner, but one that both heeseung and hyunjae loved. hyunjae whined at not being able to eat it yet from it smelling so good. “we can eat when your dad gets home.” you chuckle at him while he pouts in return. “you’re a little pouty baby” you grab his cheeks, and he rolls his eyes at you. you gasp dramatically before grabbing him “who taught you this attitude?” you joke. “you” he says while leaning close to your face, “oh yeah.” you squint at him before tickling him until he screams and begs you to stop while his cute little giggles leave his mouth. once you stop, he catches his breath and kisses your cheek, “i love you, mommy.” he smiles, in return you kiss all over his little face, “i love you more” you say and he giggles in return.

after a long wait, it’s already 6:30 pm and heeseung still isn’t home, you and hyunjae already ate, knowing heeseung probably would be late and you both didn’t want the food to go cold. “it’s okay mommy, i’m sure he’s coming home soon.” your son assures you, you smile and nod back to him. once you both finish eating you both sit down on the ground in the living area and play together. “i’m going to use the bathroom mommy.” he says before rushing off. you fidget on you phone, looking at your messages with your husband, but there’s no texts from him at all. you sigh but soon hear the house door opening, you quickly stand up and walk over to heeseung and give a soft smile to him, to which he returned a somewhat fake one. “hi, how was your day?” you take his coat off for him, while speaking, “tiring” he sighs, you bite the inside of your cheek before rushing over to the kitchen, “I made your favorite, ramen.” you smile while offering it to him. his eyes look from the food to you, who looks pretty as always. “i’m not really hungry, sorry y/n” he says before walking somewhere behind you. ‘y/n’ it’s your name, yes, but not what he usually calls you.

“where’s jae?” he asks, “bathroom” you say, you quietly walk over to the kitchen once more to put away the extra food, while doing so you start to get a throbbing headache. “i’m going to do some paperwork” he pats your shoulder before leaving to the bedroom. you feel very upset afterwards, you sit on the couch and rub you head. “what’s wrong mommy?” hyunjae comes over to you after finishing up in the bathroom. “oh, i’ve just got a bit of a headache” you say, not wanting him to worry. “i’m sorry mommy.” he says, he looks around the room and sees his dad’s shoes by the door. “daddy’s here!?” he asks, you nod in return. “say goodnight to him because you need to be getting ready for bed soon.” you say, hyunjae nodding in response.

“daddy!” hyunjae burst’s into the room to see his dad, although he’s upset with him he still missed him. “hey bud” heeseung hugs his son. “you talked!” the boy says, excited. heeseung just sat there a bit confused by what he meant. “anyway i just wanted to see you before bed. goodnight, i love you” hyunjae says, “night son” heeseung responds. the truth is, hyunjae was hoping for an ‘i love you’ back but maybe he expected to much. he sighed before leaving the room.

after you put hyunjae off to bed you clean up a bit, although the headache and once that is done you decide to try to go to sleep early, so you head into your bedroom. “imma head to bed.” you walk over to heeseung while saying. he turned to you before nodding “okay, i’ll be quiet, night.” he’s says you just give a sad smile in return which he doesn’t notice. you hop in bed after doing the things necessary before so.

after trying to sleep for a while, you’re not able too. you have a lot on your mind, mainly about hyunjae and his feelings toward his dad at the moment, yours too. you were frustrated with heeseung, with how he was acting. you sat up, head still pounding. “heeseung, we should talk” you say, he spins his chair around to face you, “oh you’re awake? uh, i can’t right now, i’m a bit busy.” he bit his lip from the amount of work he had to finish. “i’m not asking you, i’m telling you.” you spoke sternly. “oh okay.” he says, “what’s up?” he turns his full attention to you, for once.

“listen, i get you’ve been busy with the company lately and all that, but i’ve been realizing that you haven’t been spending time with your family.” you share, “jae told me he thinks you don’t love him, which really breaks my heart because you do, i know you do, but it’s just..” your heart hurts during this, and so does heeseung’s, you can clearly tell just by the look on his face. “it’s just, hard. for both of us and jae is such a good kid, who deserves love from both parents, everyone does. but it’s like he has a dad, yet he doesn’t.” you began to tear up, you’ve been feeling so alone lately, it’s all hitting you now. “and i…i feel like i’m not even in a relationship anymore. i feel like i’m the only one in this relationship hee.” you cried to him, you were only thinking of negative thoughts. “do you…do you have someone else?” you asked while wiping some tears. “hey, what do you mean?” you says, sitting closer to you. you’re head felt like bursting, it’s hurt so bad, you just needed to lay down. “ i understand that none of this was planned, and we were young, we still are but it was so good at first and now it’s just…not” you messed with your hair, while heeseung was trying to take in everything you dumped on him. “i need to sleep, i have a really bad headache and i don’t think i can handle it any longer.” you rubbed your head and he just nodded, getting off the bed and back to the desk. he was so taken aback, it was obvious. you did feel guilty but you were in so much pain that at the moment all you could think about was sleeping.

you slept in that next morning because it was the weekend and you needed extra rest. as you are waking up you feel secure, a hand wrapped around your body pulling you into theirs. you sighed, not wanting to wake up heeseung you quietly got up and left the bedroom. you didn’t know why he was home, he usually works on the weekends so you were confused. you decided to not drink any coffee this morning and have some water instead because you still had a tiny bit of a headache but it was hardly noticeable. you let the boys sleep more and began to make some food.

you were making pancakes, jae’s favorite. the pan was sizzling from the batter getting pouring onto it, it smelt great but you felt upset the whole time you were awake from last night. you didn’t want to look upset in front of jae but at the moment you couldn’t help how you felt. while flipping the pancakes you feel two arms slide around your waist, and a head rest on your shoulder. it was silent, but you felt hot breathing on your neck which gave you goosebumps, and his fingers which would slightly twitch out of nowhere. “i’m sorry.” he spoke, which you clearly heard from his mouth being so close to your ear. you sighed. “i know.” you said, “i’m sorry too.” you apologized in return which made him confused. “why?” he turned you around after you slid the perfectly brown pancake on a different plate. you were facing each other “because i just dumped all that on you last night.” you felt guilty once again because of it. “i’m not upset at you because you told me how you felt. i’m glad you did.” he placed his hands on your cheeks and slowly rubbed them. “i’m glad because if you hadn’t i wouldn’t have know how my family felt” he sighed but gives a soft smile to you. “i know i’ve been busy, and will be but i promise to not only make it up to you guys but to spend more time with you both.” he moves his hands from your cheeks to your waist which he grabs and pulls you into a hug. you gladly return the hug.

once you hear the noise from the stove you quickly let out a gasp and turned around quickly causing you to accidentally hit your finger on the hot pan. “ahh ssss” you shriek in pain, heeseung sees and quickly leads you to the sink. “ keep it under the water, i’ll go get a bandage” he rushes, you just nod with your eyebrows furrowed from the pain. once heeseung comes back he helps you put ointment and a bandage on your finger. “thanks.” you smile he let out a soft laugh” of course. heeseung slowly backs you into the counter and leans in, trying to kiss you. you lean in also and when your lip were about to touch you both get interrupted. “good morning” hyunjae yawns. you walk away from your position with heeseung and walk over to jae. “morning baby.” you kiss his cheek he did the same in return. “morning jae” heeseung comes over and picks up his son. “morning dad” he said, formally. “dad? no daddy?” heeseung pouted, jae shakes his head in return. heeseung knows what this is about. “you know i love you hyunjae, right?” heeseung looks at jae with so much love and care in his eyes. “i know.” jae says, beginning the smile “i love you too daddy.” he giggles and heeseung gives him a happy smile in return. you smile at your boys. “mmm i smell pancakes” jae says while heeseung sets him back to his feet. “ yep! made then special for you, so go get dressed and then you can have as many as you would like” you tell him while playing with his bed head hair. he nods then quickly runs off to his room.

you look to heeseung and give him a smile, although he returns it with a smirk. he pulls you close to him from your arms then blocking you in by firmly holding your waist. “i missed you” you say. “i know” he says before kissing you, you smile into the kiss.

———————————————————————

© rosie-rosem

i wanted thank everyone for the love this post is getting, it makes me very happy! i also want to give a special thanks to my current rebloggers <;3 @ykilvr @mishawritessometimes @amisayka @lisaaannna @wonkiecat @itsnay24 @jainandan @lerclecsheart @fawnniee @rayofsunshineeee @m3g00mi @yjjungwon @jaehaki @studio913 @khlairdelune @asteriasdreamland @enhypenfluffblog @hanienie @seungstheticreblogs @enhab25 @berryblog @myp014r01dl0v3 @heeverseblog

[0mysticmidnight0]

Do you have any head cannons for Yandere! turtles x Reader with mood swings? Mood swings are abrupt changes in mood/emotional state :D

Note: Amazing request, I am a little rusty for writing the turtles since I have not posted about them for a while.. BUT! I will give my all. I'll be doing them individually!

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LEO

- There's two sides to him in this case..

- What I mean is.. when he's feeling up to it, he'll tease you. If anything he could tease you for hours on end. The whole day if he could. Sometimes it goes too far and he'll have to apologize. It's not always easy for him, but he still does it.

- he can be a bit.. much sometimes but when he sees you getting angry or feeling sort of negative emotion, he'll be quick to turn your frown upside down.

- He also finds it funny whenever you could go from being happy to weeping so quickly..

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You were looking at the bowl you dropped onto the floor. The whole day you were acting like clutz.. tripping three times on your way here.. walking into a glass door.. and slipping on some very questionable goo in the sewers, today was just NOT your day..

Before you could blow a fuse, Leo stepped in and hugged you from behind. "Ayy.. Mi Amor, you've been off your game lately, guess I wouldn't mind going out of my way to take of this mess, being the world's best boyfriend and all.. ", he says while nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"Plus, that bowl was old anyway.. It was bound to break at some point. You were doing us a favor. How bout I clean this up and we can watch that show you like?" He shoos you off to the couch while he cleaned up the mess.

While you watched a movie.. You were crying for while because your favorite character died and proceeded to yell at the the projector while Leo held you back. He loves you to bits.

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RAPH

- I feel like he'd always want you to feel a positive emotion, he'll sorta panic when you feel something negative.. probably start gentle parenting you..

-it annoys you a bit but he really doesn't know what to do that he goes to his default settings.

-would probably panic one time and just hug you very tightly. It surprisingly calmed you down.

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So you got upset at a bad test/quiz you failed that you've studied all night for.. Raph didn't know what to do.. so he sorta.."Y/N I understand you're upset.. how about we start counting to 6, okay..?" He says as he shows you his six fingers. "alright, one.. two three.. breathe in.." (someone tell me I'm funny..)

He gives you a smile and then Practically smothers you with kisses and cuddles.. in his fort of teddy bears!! After a while when you've calmed down, he'll ask if he did a good job.. He loves you to bits.

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DONNIE

- he does try to stay on your good side but most of the time, he's just looking for a fight.

-if you're angry, he'll argue with you, it's a good way to challange himself. He will apologize after.. not verbally.<3

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After a while of hanging out, You were bored and well, Donnie suggested a certain game.. "Y/N, that's not how chess works.." he says while pointing out your move. You glare at him. He was constantly correcting you and every moved he'd say things like.. ",Are you sure?" Or "Yikes.."

Proceed to after a long argument.

It's been a few hours of ignoring him.m a day or two actually and in the late of night, you heard something.. when you turned, you saw your window open and then,

You saw a note saying you weren't entirely wrong. And your newly fixed phone you broke a few days ago. He loves you to bits.

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MIKEY

- He's always in a positive mood so he's a bit surprised but also intrigued? He'd check and know which things trigger you and avoid them.

- you didn't realize but you were always in a positive mood when you were with Mikey.

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You were playing in the arcade with Mikey and you kept losing round after round. After around. "Y/N, are you okay? How about we go play again but then again you might lose again- NO! I mean- let me make you something! Sit down and uhh, I'll be quick to make something! Wait you hate waiting.. I'LL BE QUICK!"

You tugged him closer to you and held him. After a small confrontation about what's going on.. he admitted to not wanting to trigger your negative Emotions.. you explained that it was healthy and normal. he loved you to bits.

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Hope you enjoyed!

Yours truly,

MysticMidnight

[yournowheregirl]

remember when i said this was gonna be 5 parts? psych! it’s gonna be six parts of the secret-dolly-parton-fan eddie munson saga (thanks again for all the love on this fic & a special thanks to @gothbat99 and @legitcookie for listening to my rambling about this part 🥰)

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 5] [part 6 + complete on ao3]

part 4: i will always love you

Eddie never thought himself to be an overthinker. 

In fact, during the majority of his life a lot of people assumed he didn't think at all considering the way he flunked senior year twice (He got there in the end, though). But lately - well, actually ever since Pat swore up and down Steve isn’t as straight as Eddie originally thought - Eddie’s brain has been running at a hundred miles an hour.

More specifically, Pat’s words have been echoing through his mind, haunting him, torturing him, every time he hangs out with Steve.

“Hey man, that shirt looks really great on you.” Steve says one day when Eddie shows up at Family Video wearing a red henley. It’s an old shirt he found earlier that week when Wayne forced him to clean out his closet, a little tight but it still fit so Eddie decided to keep it.

“What, this old thing?” Eddie scoffs, playing with the frayed hem of the shirt.

“Yeah, it’s… it suits you. Looks nice.” Steve smiles. 

“Thanks.” Eddie replies. His smile is tight, in the hopes that he doesn’t give away the swarm of butterflies currently residing in his stomach.

But are ya sure that boy’s straight?

“Wait, what’s happening again?” Steve asks one night during Will’s latest Hellfire campaign. 

It’s the first time in literal years that Eddie’s been playing a character instead of DM’ing and so far, he’s been very impressed with Will replacing him. Though his story lines can be a little too detailed at times, which makes it hard for Steve - who hasn’t been there during every D&D night - to keep up. 

So, Eddie explains it to him. He’s patient, keeping his voice low so the others won’t overhear and carefully watches Steve connect the dots. Watches how that cute little frown in between his eyebrows slowly fades away and is replaced with a soft smile. 

“Which brings us here, to the Rotting Grove and now we gotta wait until Dustin’s character makes a decision.” Eddie says finally, but Steve stays quiet. He’s still looking at Eddie, eyes wide with wonder, maybe he still doesn’t understand the plot just yet. “Sorry, did I go too fast? You want me to start again?”

“No, no, I got it.” Steve shakes his head, smiling. “Thanks for explaining it, though. You’re a great story teller, Eddie.” He says, bumping their shoulders together but never pulling away.

Steve stays glued to Eddie’s side throughout the rest of the night, whispering the occasional question or snarky comment in his ear, sending a chill down Eddie’s spine every time he feels Steve’s lips brush against his skin.

But are ya sure that boy’s straight?

“You really gotta be more careful.” Steve says sternly one afternoon, after Eddie has fallen face-first onto the ground during one of Max’ skateboarding lessons, leaving him with a nasty graze on his cheek. 

“I was being- fucking Christ, Steve.” Eddie hisses as Steve dabs a washcloth against Eddie’s bloodied cheek. “Will you stop that? That hurts like hell.”

Steve ignores his protests, rolling his eyes. “An infection hurts even more, so just stay still, will you?”

His hand, big and warm, finds Eddie’s hip, holding him still against the bathroom counter, as Eddie tries to think of literally anything that’ll stop his blood from going south because this not the place or time to pop a boner right now. Which somehow results in him being particularly mopey to Steve.

“I can take care of myself y’know? Been doin’ it all my life.” He grunts when Steve slowly removes the washcloth. 

“I know you can.” Steve replies softly. “But sometimes it’s nice to have someone taking care of you for a change.”

He runs his thumb over Eddie’s cheek, wiping away the last of the blood before placing his his hand on Eddie’s jaw, turning his face to see if there are any wounds to be taken care of. When Steve nods, obviously proud of his work, Eddie almost wants to go out there and trip another time, just to feel Steve’s hands on his skin again. 

“Besides, you need someone around here who actually knows first aid. God forbid something happens to that pretty face of yours.” Steve smirks, before patting Eddie’s chest and walking out of the bathroom, leaving Eddie speechless for the first time in his life.

But are ya sure that boy’s straight?

Pat’s words keep getting louder and louder in his mind to the point that it’s the only thing Eddie can think about. He overanalyzes every single one of Steve’s movements, every word that rolls off his tongue, every glance sent his way, to the point that he swears he’s going insane.

Because the more he starts thinking about it, the more Pat might actually be right and isn’t that the most terrifying thing in the wold?

-xxx-

“Dude, will you stop that?”

Eddie looks up from where he was mindlessly staring out the window and glares at Dustin, who glares right back at him. “What?”

“Your leg.” Dustin pokes him in said leg, the one that’s been bouncing uncontrollably for the past few minutes. “It’s fucking annoying.”

Dustin’s been at the Munson trailer since early afternoon, figuring out the perfect songs to  put on the mixtape he’s mailing Suzie for their anniversary. Eddie had felt honored that Dustin came to him, rather than the so-called leading expert on romance (Steve) but now his patience is wearing thin. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loves the squirt with all his heart, but Dustin’s been contemplating between two very similar songs for thirty minutes now and his indecisiveness is starting to get on Eddie’s nerves.

“Maybe if you hurried the fuck up, my leg wouldn’t be shakin’ Henderson.” Eddie retorts. “C’mon, hurry up, will ya? I got places to go, people to meet.”

Dustin snorts. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“You know, going out to the woods to deal doesn’t exactly count as Friday evening plans.” Dustin says.

“Hey!” Eddie protests. “You know I don’t do that shit anymore, not with those shady government assholes watching my every move.” He sighs, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. “But if you must know, me and Steve are having a movie night at his place and you know how huffy he gets when I’m late.”

That’s not entirely true. Sure, Eddie’s going over to the Harrington house tonight and sure they’re gonna watch a movie, but it’s also the night that Eddie decided to finally make a move on Steve. And maybe, if everything goes right, tonight will be the night that he finds the guts to Steve how he feels.

Which is why Dustin needs to get a move on because he really needs those extra few hours to contemplate his existence, have a panic attack, talk himself down from said panic attack and figure out what he’s going to wear.

“Okay, now I know you’re lying.” Dustin says, looking anything but impressed with Eddie.

“What? I ain’t lying, Henderson.” Eddie frowns. He grabs the VHS tape from the coffee table and waves it in Dustin’s face. “See, I got the movie and everything.”

“Yeah, well, you must have gotten the days mixed up.” Dustin shrugs. “Steve’s got a date tonight.”

“Yeah, right.” Eddie says, rolling his eyes at Dustin and ignoring the way his heart is starting to beat a little faster out of sheer panic. “Steve hasn’t been on a date since he broke up with Emily. And even if he has a date, I doubt he would’ve planned it at the same time as our movie night.”

“Well sorry to burst your bubble, but I know for a fact that Steve’s got a date tonight because he told me.” Dustin’s tone is bordering on condescending but Eddie doesn’t even have energy to tell him off right now because what the fuck? What does Dustin mean by that? And maybe more importantly, why did Steve leave Eddie in the dark about all this?

A heavy feeling settles down in his stomach, but he can’t let Dustin see his inner turmoil so he goes with indifference instead. “Pff, sure he did.”

“I saw him buy roses, Eddie! They were red too and that’s like, a dead giveaway for romance!” Dustin declares. “And when I talked to him about it he got this… weird, mushy look in his eye, which by the way gross, and said something about making tonight special and shit. Which again, gross, but if that doesn’t scream romantic evening to me, then I don’t know what is!”

Slowly, as Dustin’s words are starting to sink in, the heavy feeling grows stronger and stronger until Eddie feels his stomach drop.

Steve’s going on a date. 

Steve’s going on a date and just ditches Eddie without saying a word.

Steve’s going on a date with someone who isn’t Eddie.

Steve’s going on a date which means Pat was wrong.

“Get out.” Eddie says, voice on edge.

“Geez, didn’t know you’d get so upset. It’s just a cancelled movie night, I’m sure Steve-”

“Out!” Eddie exclaims, his tone way harsher than it needs to be. It obviously affects Dustin, who flinches at his words, but Eddie doesn’t care. Well, he does but he’ll apologize to Dustin later, once he starts to feel normal about all of this. 

Dustin quietly packs his stuff, mumbling something under his breath as Eddie just stands there, frozen. Eyes glued to the coffee stain on the carpet, mind reeling with thoughts of Steve ditching him for some date he didn’t even tell him about. 

He hears Dustin say a quiet goodbye but he stays there for a good few minutes before he finally snaps out of his trance and grabs the keys to the van from the kitchen counter. He doesn’t even see the dark clouds forming in the sky, he just gets in the van and drives. 

-xxx-

Rain is still pouring down when Eddie arrives at the Off-Road. Not that he really cares about the weather right now, he’s got other things on his mind. He pulls his leather jacket over his head and jogs over to the entrance, only to find the door closed and the lights off.

Great. Like his day couldn’t get any worse.

Eddie slumps down on the porch in front of the bar, not caring that he’s sitting on wet wood or that the wind is blowing the raindrops right in his face. The rain is actually pretty nice right now, hiding the tears that are slowly rolling down his cheek.

Crying over Steve motherfuckin’ Harrington. That’s a new low, even for him.

And the thing is, any other time Eddie could’ve dealt with Steve getting another date. Yeah, it’d probably hurt like a bitch and Eddie would’ve been sulking for a day or two, but he would’ve been fine. It would’ve been just another Emily situation, just another reminder that Steve would never been his.

But Steve keeping him in the dark about his date, Steve just flat-out cancelling their movie night without even telling him, after weeks of, let’s be honest, low-key flirting? That somehow hurts even more. It just feels like Steve doesn’t really care about him, like Steve’s using him like a fucking Kleenex - use once, then throw away when it’s no longer useful.

The thoughts in his head are so loud, so overwhelming, that he doesn’t even hear a pick-up truck stopping a few steps from him. Doesn’t hear the hushed voices or the wet sounds of footsteps through the mud.

“Ed? Whatcha doin’ here kid?”

Eddie looks up from where he had been staring at his feet, only to find Pat and Tish standing in front of him, huddled together underneath an umbrella. The worried looks on both their faces makes Eddie just cry even harder.

“Oh honey.” Tish says softly. “Let’s get you inside, okay?”

Pat and Tish lead him inside and up the stairs that lead to the apartment above the bar. It’s small, but cozy and feels like a home, with little trinkets and old photos scattered just about everywhere. Pat firmly plants Eddie down at the kitchen table and hands him a couple of towels as his tears slowly start to fade. He hadn’t even realized how cold he was until Pat throws a woolen blanket over his shoulders and Tish puts down a pot of hot chamomile tea.

“So…” Pat says as she sits down across from him at the kitchen table. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Eddie sniffs, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “It’s stupid.”

“We’ll be the judge of that.” Pat says sternly, though her eyes are soft. “Now tell us what happened.”

And Eddie just spills everything. How Pat’s advice has been haunting him, how he’s been overanalyzing every of Steve’s moves, how he was so sure that Steve liked him back, only to be tossed aside without a care. He tears up again a few times and it’s so embarrassing he wants to be buried alive, even with Pat and Tish just listening and telling him it’s okay.

Once he’s done, he just feels empty - no more tears to cry, no more words to say, just an empty, hollow feeling where his heart used to be. 

“Eddie, I’m so sorry, honey.” Tish sighs as she pours him another cup of tea. He’s not usually a tea drinker but he’s had two cups already - he swears Tish put some kind of crack in it, rather than sugar cubes. “For what it’s worth, he doesn’t deserve you. Not if he treats like you like, pardon my French, dogshit.”

Hearing Tish swear, while she’s generally so prim and proper, makes Eddie laugh, even through his dried-up tears. “Thanks, Tish.” He sighs, slouches down in his chair and looks up at the wooden ceiling. “But I guess this was good, in some twisted, fucked up way. Just the slap in the face I needed.”

“What’d you mean?” Pat frowns.

“It’s just… I been running after him like some lovesick puppy even though I know he’ll never feel the same.” Eddie says. “And it’s not doing me any good, now is it? Guess this is a sign that it’s time for me to move on.”

He knows he said that before, back when Steve started dating Emily, and even though it clearly didn’t work out the way he wanted to, Eddie has to make it work now. He has to say goodbye to Steve because he’s not so sure his poor heart’ll survive if he doesn’t.

And he knows exactly how he’s going to do just that.

Eddie jumps up from the table and races downstairs, ignoring Pat and Tish’s confused noises as they follow him. He fumbles with the lights for a moment but as soon as the lights are partially on, Eddie walks up to the podium, grabs the guitar off the wall and sits down on the stool that has become so familiar to him.

The bar is silent because of course it is and for a second Eddie just wants to laugh at how weird this whole situation - singing in a bar just to process his dumb feelings, even with no audience around (well, there’s an audience if you count Pat, Tish and the wind howling outside). But he has to do this, needs to do this, audience be damned. 

His hands are shaking, hesitating to play the first few chords. It’s not like he doesn’t know the song, in fact he knows it by heart and played it plenty of times, But he never actually sang the words, too scared what’ll mean if he’ll say them out loud. 

“If I, should stay… I would only be in your way. So, I’ll go but I’ll know, I’ll think of you each step of the way.” Eddie sing softly, voice already wavering because he was right for not singing this song before - it fucking hurts. “And I… will always love you.”

Eddie’s voice echoes through the empty bar, causing to sound more hollow than it already is. A shiver runs up his spine when he feels a cool breeze of wind - the wind must’ve flung the door open. Eddie doesn’t look up, closes his eyes instead and lets the music take him.

“Bittersweet memories, that’s all I’m taking with me.” He hears Pat and Tish whispering to another, can’t really see them from where they’re standing in the dark but their hushed voices sound tense. Not that Eddie’s really listening, it’s all background noise as he continues strumming his guitar. 

“Goodbye, please don’t cry. We both know…” Eddie chokes on his on voice, the words hitting a little too close to home. He takes a deep breath and tries again, refusing to shed anymore tears. “We both know that I’m not what you need.”

“Eddie?”

Someone’s calling out his name. A familiar voice. A way too familiar voice. 

Steve’s voice.

But that can’t be. Steve’s doesn’t knows he’s here. Steve’s too busy wooing his goddamn date with those goddamn roses.

It’s just in his head. It’s just his mind playing tricks on him. He just needs to finish this song and then this fake Steve will disappear and-

“And I… will always love you. I will always-” 

“Eddie, please.”

Eddie stops playing as a shadow washes over him, a figure blocking the spotlight. He squints, trying to identify whether it’s Pat or Tish who interrupted him, only to find that it’s neither of them

Because there, with floppy wet hair plastered to his face and a thoroughly soaked pink button-down and blue jeans, stands the one person Eddie had run away from in the first place.

Steve.

tag list (there are so many of you now omg ily):

@cheatghost @henderdads @unclewaynemunson @goblin-eddie @trikigirl271 @alienace @fandomcartographer @stevethehairington @blank1eboi @this-earlobe-is-naked @fruitandbubbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @stereoteleversion @wrenisflying @spectrum-spectre @hotluncheddie @punkharringtxn @remislupinsthevoiceofgod @panicatthediaz @thegingervulcan @sharkruption @goodolefashionedloverboi @thelastwalkingsoul @undreamingscatworld @starrystevie @magipemuseum @mightbeasleep @corrodedcoughin @linkydinky06 @hardboiledeggs @gamerdano @limpingpenguin @blackpanzy @piningapple @teelagurl558 @theokatz @moonlightmirrorball @milf-harrington @raisedbylibrarians @eddiemunsonswife @catateme9 @stranger-poets-society

[ahanarhorse]

Whumptober day 6: Not Realizing they're injured

So sorry this is late, I did not want to write yesterday.

unhealthy coping mechanisms | healed wrong | "It's not my blood"

I couldn't help it, I'm hurting Wild (and Warriors) again.

Warnings: Blood, wounds.

AO3 Link

The battle had ended, but not well. It was a rough one, black blooded moblins, bokoblins and even a wizzro.

No one had gotten out unscathed.

After the battle Hyrule was limping around, trying to heal as many people as he could before Legend made him sit down.

Warriors was wrapping wounds that were minor enough not to get a potion as Twilight was dealing out the red bottles.

Everyone had sat down just outside the clearing where the battle took place. No one was willing to move too far too soon.

Wind had flopped down on the floor and was being persuaded by Sky to get up.

Four was cleaning his and other people's swords, making sure they all got taken care of after the tough battle.

Warriors was wrapping a cut on Legend's hand as the latter yelled at Hyrule who was currently ignoring his own injury in favor of healing Time.

Wild was looking through his slate, trying to find a replacement for the shield he broke.

Twilight was sipping a healing potion as he sat down next to Wild. The rancher slapped Wild's back, making the younger fall forward.

"Oops, sorry Champ," he said, smiling guiltily.

"It's fine," Wild replied, looking back to his slate and pulling out a royal guard's shield.

"You alright? You musta got some sort of injury after a battle like that," Twilight responded, looking Wild up and down for hidden injuries.

"Yeah, got a small cut, already wrapped it up," He said, quickly dismissing the conversation.

"Kay kid, but you better not be lying ta me," The rancher gave Wild a glare, one that normally would have made the teen chuckle and give a good shoulder punch and maybe a bit of roughhousing.

Now, there was no response.

Instead of becoming worried Twilight just waved it off as the kid being tired after so hard a fight. Instead he went over to see how Time was doing, his broken arm now healed.

Wild continued to stand, looking through his slate once more and picking out a truffle to snack on.

The chain had finally wrapped everything up, Wind relenting to stand and get a leg bandaged while Hyrule sat down and drank a potion at Legend's nagging.

They were all off again, grabbing gear and setting off.

The pace was slower than normal, none of the group wanting to travel. They needed to go though, supposedly they were close to a town, and they needed a safe place to sleep for the night. If they were attacked at camp, nothing would go well.

Finally they could see the outskirts of the town they had been looking for. The chain let out a collective sigh at the sight. As they got to the inn, bags were dropped heavily and people dropped into beds as the sun went down and tiredness overcame them.

People lay down one by one and everyone went to sleep fairly quickly.

Only one person was not in bed.

In fact, he was not in the room at all.

Wild was on the roof.

It had only been a couple hours before one of the chain awoke from nightmares. It was not uncommon for it to happen, in fact, it was less likely for everyone to sleep well than wake up for one reason or another.

He normally would have tried to go back to sleep or stay up for a bit before laying back down, but tonight it felt different. Tonight something felt wrong.

It was the sort of feeling he got way to often during the war.

When a little Mask or Tune had made a terrible decision and he now had to sort it out.

No one had better done anything.

But he would be more surprised if anyone hadn't.

He peeking into each room, looking for anything amiss. He found everyone where they should be, everyone except for a certain errant champion.

Warriors let out a sigh, of course it was the champion.

He wouldn't say he disliked Wild, in fact, Warriors loved their feral wild child, even if he was stern sometimes.

It was that he didn't think Wild liked him.

He wasn't blind, he was a military commander at one point. He could see the way Wild learned away from him, the way he never got close enough to Warriors to touch him, even though he was the first to offer physical comfort to anyone else.

It was the way he could see the disguised fear in Wild's eyes whenever he barked an order, it was the way Wild straightened his posture when he went into captain mode. Half the time he thought Wild was about to throw a salute.

And every time, every time a flash of fear responded to an especially harsh order, every time a stony expression and straight back replaced their carefree and loose champion, every time, it made him hurt inside.

And he knew Wild had once been a knight. That made it even worse. That meant that somewhere in the past, he had a bad experience with other knights, and now he was afraid. He didn't even know if Wild remembered anything about his knighthood, or if he was reacting from instinct. If Wild had feared a captain in the past, most of his behaviors made much more sense.

The problem was he couldn't help it. He couldn't help that he took control in a battle, it wasn't his fault that he had been trained almost all his life to be who he was, and now he was feeling bad for it.

He almost woke Twilight, but decided against it. If he scared Wild too badly, he would get backup, but for now, he thought he could handle the wild child.

The problem now, was to find where Wild was, and if Warriors knew anything, he could be anywhere.

He went outside, the most likely, yet difficult, place to find the champion.

He looked around, searching for any sign of a blue tunic or blond hair. He chanced to look up and spotted a figure on top of the inn roof.

Great. Why was he doing this again?

Oh yeah, because Wild probably wasn't okay and he was the only one awake to help.

Warriors sighed, he would have to climb up there somehow.

He found a tree that would probably be easy enough to make it onto the roof and landed on the roof with only a slightly louder thump than he would have liked.

He walked towards the top, where the silent figure still sat. He made sure to make enough noise that Wild would hear him, yet not enough to wake the people in the building under his feet.

It worked, and Warriors could see Wild's ears twitch back towards him before flicking forwards again.

With less apprehension he continued forward, setting himself down a little distance away from Wild, who was still staring into the stars.

"Whats got you up kid?" Warriors asked, noticing the small flinch that 'kid' got him, he would have to remember not to use that in the future.

No answer.

"Are you hurt."

Only a small shake of the head that time.

Warriors looked to make sure, it wouldn't be the first time that Wild had hidden an injury.

And he was glad he looked, because in the darkness of night he wouldn't have caught the slightly darker stain otherwise.

"Wild, let me check your back," Warriors asked, standing.

"What? No," Wild said, vocally responding for the first time. He spun around, putting a hand up in between him and the captain.

Warriors could see it, the guarded yet fearful look on the champion's face.

"You're hurt, I need to look at it," He said, trying to make it soft, to not scare Wild, yet firm enough that the teen would know it wasn't a suggestion.

"It's not my blood, just monster guts I haven't washed out yet," Wild said arm up and still defensive.

"No, let me look at it," Warriors stated. He sure didn't want to be a captain to the young knight but he didn't want Wild to continue going on hurt either.

When no response greeted his ears he continued around Wild's back, making enough noise that Wild could always hear him.

When Wild didn't turn or push him away again he took it as a win and squatted down, talking the whole time.

"Wild, what happened?" He asked as he lifted the back of a blood stained shirt only to see more blood stained skin underneath.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" He asked, taking out a roll of bandages he kept on him for this purpose.

"I didn't need help," Wild stated flatly.

"You're not alone anymore, you know we can help, right?"

No answer.

"Wild, I'll always help you, it's alright," Warriors said, cleaning the cut and bandaging it as well as he could in such dim light.

The problem was, he could see many more marks on the young man's back, and some didn't look as accidental as the one he was currently tending to.

He would have to talk to Wild again later.

Finished it somehow!! I love Wild and Warriors bonding so much, even more with all the angst added in.

Thank you for reading!

[the-family-business-83]

Unexpected Calling – Part I

Part 1 | Masterlist WIP

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in short change and a letter handwritten by a 9-year old girl.

Type: Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader's daughter (platonic obviously), Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, action, slight angst, might get smutty but idk yet

Warnings: Be prepared for some adult language! Nothing too crazy in this first part though, we're just getting started so that's my only warning for now.

Word count: 1.6k

Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!!

This post was Beta'd by @mariekoukie6661. Thanks a million!

A/N: Thought I'd throw my hand at a prompted fic! Hope you guys like it, I'll add a chapter directory and update as needed as the next parts are posted. So stay tuned 👀 Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics <3

Every morning is always the same when you're paid to kill. He'd been trying to be better about the whole actual killing part lately, but that didn't change his morning routine very much. He woke up to the sound of his alarm clock going off—yes, he still used one. If you asked for his reasoning, he'd tell you it's because it's less complicated and you can always count on it to work because it simply stayed plugged into the wall; in the event that the power went out? It had batteries for backup power, and you can't find that kind of peace of mind with just the alarms on your phone. He's still an old soul, sue him. He woke up at 6:45 am, on the dot, every morning without fail that way so it was rather effective.

After the blaring sound of his trusty alarm clock came the process of forcing himself out of bed and cleaning up for the day; shaving if necessary, freshening up, getting dressed, the works. This was generally when he'd change his appearance should the need arise, as well. But he didn't need to do that this morning and so he flicked the light to the bathroom off as he left the room when he was finished, heading out to his kitchen thereafter. The next step? Food. It was always 7 am sharp by the time he got done with his wakeup process, the only time that changed being when he added any extra steps in the bathroom. And breakfast was always simple: a cup of hot black coffee, sliced avocado, and bread toasted to perfection with an egg over medium to be dipped in. And it never failed to be a pleasant way to start his morning, usually followed closely after by a session of watching the morning news. He found it a good way to see what was going on in the area and across the country so he could plan accordingly.

If he didn't have a job, which by chance was the case today, he'd generally find any sort of quiet way to spend the rest of his morning; reading a book, cleaning up all his weapons, or a walk in the park if he felt like it. Today, he felt like it. And it was mostly peaceful, if you excluded the grating sound of car horns, tires squealing, and buses chuffing past. And of course, if you chose to ignore the rumbling from the subway, the people shouting either in their urgency to get to work or just simply because they were an ass, then it was really utterly plain and quiet to walk through Central Park. By this point Bucky had truly gotten used to it. He supposed in some ways it wasn't too much different from his home in the past. But that didn't mean he liked to spend too much time there anyway. So long as he got out and went back home just in time, he could skip the gradeschoolers and dog walkers that came around for the afternoon.

There had been nothing unusual about his day so far, and he liked that. He liked the rhythm of it all, and how it always went according to his carefully curated schedule. He began the process of unlocking his apartment door after making his way up to his floor, and pushed it open to take a step inside. Crunch.

What the helll...?

Bucky frowned as, seemingly, something sat under his boot and crinkled where he'd stepped, making the same sound again as he carefully pried his foot off. The poor, crisply folded, paper envelope that had earlier been slotted through his dead-drop, suffered a dirt-covered footprint but aside from that, it seemed harmless and intact as he picked it up to inspect it. A curious thing to find when you hardly get mail aside from the bills. What was even more curious was the contents within it, feeling a bit lumpy and—quite frankly—heavy for a letter-sized envelope. He closed the door behind himself with one hand, locking it once again out of habit while the other kept hold of the envelope. Moments later he flicked out a switchblade to slice it open revealing not only a handwritten letter but also $23.42.....Exactly. All in small change.

It was quite honestly the oddest thing he'd seen or received to date, and that was including the number of quite-literal backstabs he'd received, numerous other maiming injuries, and the odd encounters he’d had with a talking raccoon, tree, and robot...man…thing. To name a few. That was also including the number of odd jobs he'd been offered and peculiar payment methods he'd been given. Never had he come across such a specific payment with a letter that….upon further inspection….looked as though its penman couldn't be much older than 9 years old, at most.

'Dear mister,

My name is Rosie Jones. I am 9 yeers old. My mommy says you're vary good at helping people. Well, I need your help. Mommy also said you like to be paid for helping, so I broke my piggy bank open so you wood help us. Mommy doesn't know yet thoe, so please don't tell her.

My mommy dissuhpeered disappeered last night. She told me to hide and I did but now I can't find her and so I need your help mister becuz you're really good at finding people too, mommy said so. Please please help me find my mommy, I don't know what to do mister.

– Rosie'

"You've gotta be shitting me." He muttered to himself. The first question Bucky had, quite honestly, was how did this little girl even know who he was? Or where he lived? Not many people did, if any, truth be told. If they did? They were usually dead within minutes. It was one of many reasons that kept his renowned status intact. But here he was, sitting at his own table, with proof that some little girl knew both of those things. Frowning down at the paper and envelope of change, the assassin ran his hand back through his dark brown hair momentarily, processing what he'd just read. On one hand, it could be an elaborate trap. By all rights he had to assume it, considering the nature of the letter and the fact that a little girl of all people had written it. But on the other hand, there was a certain dedication there that he simply couldn't ignore. And some part of him couldn't help but at least look into it. So moments later, the man was pulling out his laptop and began searching for answers, anything that could give this little girl's story any sort of credit.

Much to his surprise? It checked out. Every last bit of it. There was a mother, connected to the Rosie Jones in question, who had gone missing under rather mysterious circumstances. "I'll be damned, mystery kiddo."

'Y/N Jones, aged 37, a single mother, was nowhere to be found the next morning after reports came in that a struggle and silenced gunshots were heard from the house that night.'

He probably could have gotten away with just keeping the money and letting it go. It was some little kid somewhere hoping for someone to hear her plea, he could get away with it. But it was that name…. he'd seen it before, he knew he had. In all fairness though, he really only remembered faces exceptionally well. Names didn't matter in the long run, names didn't tell him who he was shooting within a crowd of people. So why did it keep nagging at the back of his mind?...

Spoiler alert: he shouldn't have went digging. He should have just left it alone. But he had always been a curious mind and he was nothing if not thorough on top of that. Popping open the top to his bottle of whiskey, Bucky carefully poured out a favorable portion into a glass tumbler, before letting it down onto the counter as he heard an agreeable noise coming from his laptop to signal it had finished its task. Glancing over his shoulder, he sipped on his drink as he made his way back over to the table, having waited for what seemed like an hour to get the information he wanted. And the minute he looked at the screen was the very same minute he regretted it.

He knew that face.

He knew it like the back of his hand almost, he knew it the same way he knew the taste of bourbon or the sound of a .22 magnum. That was the face of Y/N Y/L/N and it was a face he had been trying to forget for years now. But most of all he knew it was a mistake to have even touched this with a ten-foot pole. Because now he had a target, he knew what the target looked like, and he had been paid in- well, maybe not-so-full, but in 9-year-old currency $23.42 was basically a million dollars considering it was all her savings.

In short?

He had to do it now.

He knew that. And it damn near made him groan at the prospect. Because this was going to be a long-ass job, and if he was going to ensure the rescue of that little girl's mother, then he needed to ensure that child's safety. The less leverage the 'enemy' had, the easier his job was. So as he sighed out, "Damnitall, this better be fuckin worth it kid," the hundred year old assassin finished off his drink and went about packing his things to take on a job that he never asked for, but knew damn well he was stuck with until it was over.

But at least if he had to go through with this, he was going to be damn sure he did it right, that was for sure.

Taglist: If you weren't tagged it's because I couldn't get it to tag you or I didn't know which account was yours – @aingealcethlenn @deaan @idabbleincrazy @impala-1979 @kadet-jb @myinconnelly2 @princessmisery666 @rosedemica @tvdspngirl314 @darsynia @buckys-zomdoll @cookingglitterfairy @emilyshurley @fictionalabyss @jotink78 @mariekoukie6661 @manawhaat @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @scarletwinchester84 @sorenmarie87 @until-theend-oftheline @starryeyes2000 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @betweengalaxies2 @focusonspn

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 4

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, more dark elements to come.

Promise, Lloyd will pop up again soon.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

You don't say anything. Instead, you let it eat away at you. Your days end in tears, your few hours to yourself spent sleeping until your next shift. Hours worked for what? The watch is gone and Colin's lost in his new job. With his ex.

How do you say it? How can you put your suspicions into words without making them true? If you accuse him and he hasn't done anything, he'll only be angrier.

On your sole day off, you sleep all of two hours and drag yourself off the couch. It isn't even noon as you tidy the house, sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, dishes, toilet, floor to ceiling spotless.

The last hours of the afternoon are spent cooking in anticipation of Colin's return. To make up for the night more than a week ago that it all went rotten. An apology. An act to show him you're worth something. You can take care of him. You love him!

You change into clean clothes and check yourself in the mirror. You do your best to look human. You put on the necklace he gave you all those years ago.

You keep the chicken warm in the oven and set lids over the broccoli and creamy fettuccine on the burners. You pace the kitchen tiles and wait.

And wait.

And wait.

6:30.

6:58.

7:14.

The chicken is dry, the noodles bland and limp, the beans overcooked.

8:06.

You scrape it all into the bin and turn off the lights. You run a bath and cry as the tub fills and you strip away your clothes. You check your phone as you sink into the hot water. Nothing.

You put the phone on the flat edge of the tub and lay back, closing your eyes as you try to enjoy the soothing heat. You can't free yourself from the tension knotted in your overworked muscles. Another heave rises just as soon as the last subsides. You only stop as you hear the front door.

Your cell shows 9:17.

You don't bother getting out. The water's cold but you don't care. You hear him walking through the house. He goes into the bedroom. You've been on the couch for days and he's out late, doing what? With who?

Your lip trembles and you splash warm water over your face. You're done crying. You sit up and sigh.

A gentle tapping comes at the door. You don't answer, the water stirring around you as you pull the stopper and stand. As you reach for the towel, his voice comes through the door, "babe."

It stings to hear the pet name. After so long. He wants to act like nothing is wrong. After he didn't even send a message. After you tossed out a whole meal.

You step onto the bath mat and dry off. The door clicks and you quickly wrap yourself in the towel, hiding from him. You're not a skinny blonde with glowing pink cheeks.

"I'm in here," you say.

"Sorry, I… I gotta go," he cringes, "and also, wanted to say hello…"

He puckers up and you cross your arms, "I'm done. Excuse me."

You ignore his attempt at a kiss. He doesn't move and you stare past him. He stretches his arm across the doorframe.

"You okay?"

"Don't. Don't act like nothing happened."

"I'm trying to talk to you-"

"Go piss," you snarl.

"Look, I believe you. That dude, you wouldn't fuck him. I'm just… I was caught off guard, I didn't know what to think. Things have been so tough lately. The watch was nice. Really nice."

"Please, I'm tired. I have to work in the morning–"

"You can't just shut me out–"

"And what have you been doing for the last week? Colin, please."

"Please, I…"

"Where were you? I waited for you. I made dinner, I cleaned. It's nine at night."

His eyes shift to the wall, "work. This new job, it's a lot of extra hours. Like you. Picking up all those night shifts. I feel like we don't see each other."

"You haven't wanted to see me," you accuse.

"I thought– I was stupid, okay? I got scared. It's like I said, I don't deserve you."

You roll your eyes and hug the towel tighter, "whatever."

"Oh, don't do that," he grasps your arms gently, "you know I'm an idiot. Isn't that why you married me?" You try to shrug him off and he slides his hands up to cradle your face, "I love you, baby. I picked up the extra hours so we can take a trip. Book a weekend off and we'll head to the lake."

"Colin," you stare away from him.

"We'll get a room with a hot tub," he lets a hand descend and plays with the top of your towel, "skinny dip… get dinner. This time for real."

"Please," you beg weakly as he tugs on the cotton.

"You always liked to play hard to get," he teases, "let's take the watch back, get you a pair of earrings, huh?"

You gulp, "no, no, I…I don't need earrings." You catch his hands and look at him, "it's gone. I left it at the restaurant and someone snatched it. So… can't even do that right."

"Shit, really? Well, it's just a watch. We'll be okay."

"We will?"

"Oh, for sure, I'm getting a raise. Plus travel pay."

"Travel pay," you cant help but relax as he tickles you playfully.

"Conference out east. I'll be gone a week but when I get back we'll go to the lake."

"Conference? Away?"

"Yeah, I told you I'd have to travel for the job."

"Who else is going?"

"What?"

"It's just you?"

"Well, no, my boss will be going and a few of the other account managers–"

"Your boss?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing, nothing. Makes sense, she probably has to go right."

"Yeah, she–" he hesitates, "she would."

You nod and wait. Will he say it? Will he tell you?

No.

"Is she nice?"

"Who?"

"Your boss? Is she a good boss?"

"Sure, I guess," he pulls away from you, "man, I'm starving. Smells good in here."

"Uh, yeah, well… I burnt the food so it's in the garbage."

"Damn," he backs out of the doorway, "well, I'm sure we can scrounge up something."

"Guess," you skirt around him and head down the hall. He follows, "what are you doing?"

"Just tryna get a peek of the goods," he kids.

"Don't even," you keep yourself covered as you enter the bedroom and search the dresser. "So, you didn't tell me about the job. You like it?"

He pauses, he knows you're changing the subject. He leans on the wall as you keep the towel around you and quickly pull the night shirt on, then step into the loose pants that go with it. You tug the towel from beneath and face him.

"It's a job. Pays better, more freedom, coworkers are nice."

"That's good."

"How's night shift going?" He rubs his neck.

"Lonely, dull," you answer flatly, "nothing special."

"Ah, maybe…"

He lets his voice trickle off as you near him, "maybe what?"

"Maybe you could look for something else? A desk job or maybe do some home cleaning. Lots of rich snobs out there will pay top dollar to not see their own messes."

"It's not that easy."

"You could try," he says.

"Yeah," you hold back the mean thought, I don't have an ex to get me a new gig, "I'll try."

"Mmm, how's mac and cheese? Think I can manage that."

"Mac and cheese?"

"For dinner," he explains brightly and winks, "then maybe you can think of something for dessert."

[spooky-bunnys]

Toman request

(Name) has a pet rat (why you may ask cause rats are cute) and one day (name) is running late to a meeting and doesn’t know that his pet rat is in his pocket and when he gets to the meeting pet rat decides to explore (and this is gonna be where tenjiku,brahms sand black dragons are in toman) and while everyone is paying attention to mikey ran sees the rat and just screams while jumping into some arms and his scream alerts everyone else about the rat and some are amazed, grossed out or panicking as well. (Name) is like panicking cause he doesn’t want his fur baby to get hurt and is chasing after his pet rat

And maybe just for laughs (name) has secretly thought his pet rat to steal so when he finally catches his rat he sees that the rat is holding a wallet and everyone hears taiju, pah or koko say “alright who took my wallet?” (It’s cannon that pah and taiju have money)

I personally don't really like Rats. I don't have a good experience with them, but here you go enjoy!

(Name) huffed and continued running. He was running late for the Toman meeting. He had been cleaning his pet Rats cage when he noticed the time. The meeting was at 7pm and the time was 6:54pm. Now (Name) didn't live too far from the shrine, but his bike is currently getting fixed.

When he finally arrived he quickly took his place. Hoping nobody noticed, but he quickly had his back smacked roughly. (Name) yelped and fell over.

What he didn't notice was his pet rat running out of his uniform pocket.

(Name) quickly stood up and brushed his uniform off and turned. Seeing his Captain give him a stern look. "(Name) your late." (Name) huffed and looked away. "Sorry sir. I was doing my chores when I noticed the time, and my bike is currently in the shop so I had to run here."

Taiju ruffled his hair and barked out a laugh. "You should've told me, I would've had someone get you." (Name) blushed and looked away. "N-No sir it's okay." Before Taiju could reply, a high pitch scream sounded.

Everyone turned towards the sound, seeing the infamous Haitani Ran climbing his captain. "Oi! Get off me!" Izana tried pulling Ran off him. "Izana there's a rat!" Izana ignored him and kept trying to get the oldest Haitani off him.

(Name) looked at them confused. Until more people started yelling and running away. Yelling about a rat. When (Name) saw what the rat looked like he paled. "REMI?!" (Name) quickly started chasing his pet rat.

Everyone cleared out of their way, not wanting to be in the way. The captains watched amused. Since they've never seen him like this. It was quite the sight honestly.

When (Name) finally caught the rat, he noticed something peculiar. "Remi, what do you have?" The rat quickly tried to escape, but (Name) sighed grabbing the object. Which turned out to be a wallet.

(Name) chuckled and kissed his head. "You finally learned huh?" That's when he heard a loud voice yell out. "Wait! Where the fuck is my wallet?!" (Name) turned and saw a panicking Kokonoi. (Name) quickly made his way over.

"Koko I'm so sorry! I've been teaching Remi some stuff, and he took your wallet." (Name) bowed and held out the wallet, which was promptly snatched by the owner. "Whose Remi?" (Name) straighten up and held out his pet.

"My pet rat! I was cleaning his cage earlier and I was running late for the meeting. I completely forgot he was in my pocket." (Name) sweat-dropped. Some came over wanting to meet the pet, while everyone else watched from afar.

"Wait, what else does he have?" Taiju snatchs the object in the Rats mouth. "Wait! This is my wallet!" (Name) laughed loudly. "Sorry Taiju-kun, I guess he wanted revenge from earlier." The rest of the meeting went by without anymore issues.

After the meeting (Name) started to make his way home, but as stopped by many members. "(Name)-san how did you teach your rat to take wallets?" "Yeah! That's such a smart thing to teach a pet!" (Name) blushed and shyly looked away. "This is actually the first time he did it correct. Usually he would just steal coins but, this time he got the actual wallet!"

Everyone else watched (Name) happily explain and show off his pet. While the captains and vice captains talked about, whether or not teaching his pet to steal was a good thing. "Honestly it could help us in the future." Baji said. Some nodded while others looked confused.

"Literally how?" Draken asked, the most confused out of them all. "Imagine you want some food but no money? You could just have him get you someone's wallet and BOOM! Free food!" Mikey nodded. He completely understood, while Draken an Mitsuya face-palmed.

This gang was full of idiots.

[rorywritesjunk]

Let's be one another's present tense

Buggy ‘rescues’ you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea.

Rating: R-ish for now. 

Warning: Swearing, soft Buggy, sort of terrible communication but in a soft way, both of them are just a bit dumb. Kissing. Bath time for Buggy as well. Also insecure Buggy.

A/N: This story is opposite of my Kid Buggy series and I love that for myself. I'm also posting this chapter on mobile, so apologies if the formatting is weird but I wanted to get this chapter out and I'm impatient.

Title comes from “Crater Lake” by Lady Lamb. 

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 (NC-17) + Chapter 16 (NC-17) + Chapter 17

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @neuvilleteismybby @fluffybunnyu @sinning-23 @the-angriest-angel @ane5e @fanshavegottensotoxic @honey-deerling

Chapter 7

Honestly, confessing your feelings didn't make too much of a difference from what you two were previously doing, but now Buggy didn't wait until you were asleep to pull you into his arms, he did it when you were still awake, pressing soft kisses to your face and neck with promises of how he would keep you safe now, that he would take care of you. And you still prepared him a plate at breakfast, still made sure he ate, but now you made sure he had second helpings of his favorite food to get him through the day.

You still called him an asshole and he still called you a diva from time to time, but there was less bite to it than before.

Though sometimes you two still had arguments, mostly about your routine, which you were getting closer and closer to giving up on. Just a month after you two confessed to each other your feelings, it finally came to a head.

“You were under water for way too long!” Buggy snapped when you two were back in your room after a frustrating day. Both of you woke up late, breakfast tasted horrible, and several freaks kept messing up on their routines. Buggy was in a foul mood and you were just grumpy. You ignored him as you stripped off your wet clothes and started drying off with a towel. At this point being naked around each other wasn't a big deal.

“Four minutes!” You shot back. “I was only in there for four minutes, okay? And I'm fine!”

“No, four minutes is not okay!” He shouted. “That's too long!”

“Buggy, it's not a big deal!” You insisted as you pulled on one of his shirts to wear. You liked how they fit you and it was often your preferred item to wear for sleeping. Next was a clean pair of underwear. “I know what I'm capable of, okay? I wish you could understand that!”

“I know you're capable, I just don't like it!” Buggy snapped. “What if something happens when my back is turned, or your helper can't reach you?! I can't help you, remember?”

You crossed your arms and stared at him, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. If this was something he worried about…

“Well, why don't I just stop doing it then?” You suggested with a shrug, but when you saw the way Buggy's face fell you immediately regretted suggesting it.

“And then what?” He asked quietly. “Are you going to leave?”

That wasn't the question you expected. “What? No! Why would I leave?!”

“If you're not going to do it…”

“Then Cabaji can use me as target practice.” You sighed as you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him. “Look, clearly this isn't working.” You silenced him with your finger to his lips before he could fuss. “The routine, Buggy. You're stressing over it and I don't want you to stress, so what if I just… take a break from it for a while and work with Cabaji? You trust him, right?”

Buggy let the suggestion soak in. Okay, you weren't going to leave, you had a suggestion, and you still got to perform, which he was happy with. And yea, he trusted Cabaji. You would be safe working with him. No risk of drowning, just maybe a stab wound if he miscalculated a throw, but Buggy could deal with that. Maybe.

“I'll tell him about it.” Buggy mumbled as he leaned into your touch. “Just… don't leave.”

“Why do you think I'm going to leave?” You asked. “I just don't want you to stress. You've been stressing about this since I started it.”

Buggy just shrugged as he pulled back from you. “I need a bath.”

“Yea, you do, stinky man.” You sighed. Bathing habits of pirates was something you were still getting used to, and Buggy seemed to prefer going days without bathing before finally giving in, and right then you were grateful. You tried to get one at least every other day, but sometimes it didn't work that way. You had thought about taking one tonight but your little argument with your boyfriend distracted you.

Buggy sat down to unbuckle his boots but you stopped him. You could see how stressed he was, that he was feeling the frustrations from the day weighing down on him, so you knelt down and did it for him, setting them aside before pulling off his socks. Yea, you were washing his clothes tomorrow, you wouldn't take no for an answer on that.

“You don't have-”

“Shut up and relax.” You told him firmly. “Today was shitty and you're about to snap, so let me help, Buggy.”

He nodded and let you be in control. You stood back up and pressed a kiss to his forehead, resisting the urge to tell him who was in charge since he often liked to say that to you, whether being serious or playful, but you didn't want to rile him up. You needed him to take it easy.

“I'm going to do laundry tomorrow, so anything you want washed, go ahead and put it in the basket, Buggy.” You told him as you leaned down to unbutton his shirt. He just nodded, shrugging it off before standing up to take his pants off next. You moved over to the tub, starting the water to get it filled up. His hair needed to get washed and brushed out, and you wanted his face clean, so you grabbed the shampoo, brush, and the makeup remover and cleanser before returning to the tub.

“I can do this myself, y’know.” He mumbled as he tossed the dirty clothes into the basket. You shrugged and stuck your hand in the water to check the temperature.

“Do you want to?” You asked. “I can go do something else.”

“No, no.” He replied a little too quickly as he walked over to the tub and climbed in, lowering himself down into the water. “Just don't want you to think you have to.”

“Well, I want to.” You told him as you grabbed a towel to kneel on as you got yourself comfy behind the tub. “Now can I wash your hair? It got in my mouth last night and… it wasn't good.”

He smirked a bit and glanced back at you. “I can always put something else in your mouth, y'know.”

You tugged on a lock of hair when he said that before reaching in to push his shoulders down to get as much of his hair wet as possible. The bath water wasn't sea water thankfully, unlike some of it that came into the tank you would be submerged in. You knew that's why he felt helpless when you were in there, he couldn't help you if something went wrong.

“Maybe once you're clean.” You shot back playfully as you made sure his hair was wet. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing. You poured some of the strawberry scented shampoo into your hand before you began to massage it into his locks, dragging your nails over his scalp gently, eliciting a moan from him. You couldn't help but giggle at the reaction, ensuring his hair was well lathered before dunking him back into the water. “Mm, you like me touching you like that, Buggy?”

“Fuck, don't ask me that.” He hissed as you wrung his hair out before letting it hang outside the tub while you grabbed a towel to dry it.

“Why?” You chuckled as you made sure to get his hair dried before wrapping it up in the towel. “You don't want me touching you?”

“I do.” He grumbled as he sat up a bit in the tub. “I'll… do the rest. I don't need you to help.”

“But I want to.” You reminded him with a frown. “Please?”

He glanced back at you, cheeks pink with embarrassment, but he finally nodded. You leaned forward and kissed his cheek before grabbing a washcloth to clean his face with.

“Can I wash your face?” You asked. “And… can I touch your nose?”

“Why?” He demanded, narrowing his eyes. You held the washcloth up as well as the remover.

“I just want to clean your face.”

“It's real, you know that.”

“Buggy, I'm just asking to wash your face.” You told him gently. “And I'll try not to touch your nose, but I may need to. That's all.”

He wasn't sure about that. For one thing, you asked to touch his nose. He was used to others just touching it in the past, not believing it to be real, wondering if it came off or even honked. Those incidents were humiliating and uncomfortable for him, and what if this was all a ruse, you wanting to see if it did anything other than sit on his face? He couldn't cope. He didn't want you to.

“I'll wash my face.” He mumbled as he looked away from you. With a shrug, you handed him the cleanser and washcloth. You got up to get him a clean pair of pants to wear to sleep in. He glanced over as you moved, wondering if you were upset now. “Maybe… next time.”

“Okay.” You found a pair and tossed it on the bed before tossing his socks and shirt into the laundry basket. “Buggy, communication is a big thing, y’know, and while I'm no expert with relationships, we do gotta communicate.”

“We do!” He insisted. “You asked me something and I said no, so we communicated!”

“I'm not saying we don't, Buggy.”

“Then what are you saying?”

You resisted grabbing one of his socks and throwing it at him. “Buggy, don't bite my head off. I'm just trying to talk to you. Why are you so defensive?”

“Why did you want to touch my nose?” He shot back. You stared at him before throwing your arms up in exasperation.

“Communicating! I asked because I know it's something you're sensitive about!” You exclaimed. “Geez, would you have rather I just touched it?!”

“No! Just…” he huffed and looked down at the washcloth and cleanser before looking back at you. “I don't want you to feel disgusted or anything, okay?”

“I'm not going to.” You assured him as you went back over to the tub. “I'm trying to do the right thing and ask first, okay, just like you ask me before doing things for me.”

Buggy sighed and handed the cleanser and washcloth back to you, which you took back before kissing his cheek. You were gentle, wetting his face before using the cleanser, massaging it into his skin before using the washcloth to clean his face. You were mindful of his nose, though your fingertips brushed against it just for a moment, making him flinch but he didn't pull away from you. Once you were done and his face was clean, you turned his head so you could kiss him on the lips.

“All done.” You murmured as you started to pull away, but before you realized what was happening, both of Buggy's arms detached and were hauling you into the tub. You couldn't help but shriek as you were suddenly dunked in the bath water. “Buggy!”

“You need a bath too, Cupcake.” He said with a smirk as he pulled the soaking shirt off of you. “Might as well conserve water.”

“You asshole.” You said, your tone playful as you shimmied out of your underwear, tossing it aside with the wet shirt. “Those were my only clean pair.”

“Eh, laundry tomorrow.” Buggy shrugged as his arms wrapped around you and pulled you against his chest. “It's fine.”

Guess you were sleeping naked tonight.