#devon x gn reader

[goatcheesecak3]

Rodrick Heffley Masterlist

Beach date

Cuddly Rodrick

Meeting the parents

Getting ready

Cuddling hcs

Dating hcs 1

Dating hcs 2

Character hcs 1

Character hcs 2

Character hcs 3

Cooking hcs

Birthday hcs

Artistic partner hcs

[embodyingchaos]

hello, divine person, sorry if I bothered you a lot, but I'm dying for rodrick and you/n pregnant, could you make a headcanon of rodrick before and after the pregnancy and all this please

❥ hiii! of course, i can! im so sorry this is late!

rodrick heffley before & after pregnancy headcanons warnings: pregnancy stuff, gn but afab reader

OKOK SO, rodrick before the pregnancy would include a lot, and i mean A LOT of panicking

he’d be like “oh my god, a baby? what are those? wait no… HOW DO YOU TAKE CARE OF THOSE THINGS?!?!?!?” and it would take him some time but he will eventually be used to it

he’d constantly ask you if you need anything or if you need him to do anything for you, you need the tv remote? he’ll grab it for you! you want chips? he’ll grab it for you! you want something that requires him to drive halfway across town? he’ll grab it for you!

he reads as much as he can about how to handle pregnancies and he even takes up a few actual jobs just to support you even if your parents were okay with your pregnancy and were paying for the hospital bills and stuff

rodrick would also never allow you to do things on your own, and its sweet! but it gets really annoying really fast

after the pregnancy, rodrick is definitely not getting enough sleep

every single time your baby would cry, he’d take care of it, i mean it is the least he could do after you literally pushed your child out of your vagina, which he wouldn’t have known was gonna happen if he hadn’t read up on those birthing guides(he thought babies were delivered by storks)

he would love you guys’ kid to little bits and pieces, getting the worst baby fever ever and would just want to constantly be with the little baby

rodrick would also already have planned where he’d take you guys’ kid to, LIKE THE WATER PARK AND THE ZOO AND CHUCK E CHEESE AND ALL THAT ADORABLE FAMILY ASS BULLCRAP AND ITS JUST SO HEART WARMING AND ADORABLE

you couldn’t ask for a better father for your child

[lowkeyrobin]

hawk x reader (theyre dating) and he asks about her scars? (theyre from sh) maybe it can be titled you drew stars around my scars? idk! if youre noit comfortable with this im so so sorry!

ooo sure yeah! ; and dw I'm cool w this kinda stuff, sometimes I just don't do it cause I can't think of a proper idea and stuff lol i can never make them super long or anything so i apologize ; but thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also I do only do gn / they/them readers so everyone feels included/ that's what I'm comfortable with just as an fyi

HAWK MOSKOWITZ ; you drew stars around my scars

summary ; after finding your scars, eli draws stars around your scars

warnings ; language, self harm / relapse

word count ; 522

masterlist

You stand beside Hawk in your Miyagi-Fang / Eagle-Do / whatever the fuck gi, hands behind your back as you listen to Mr. LaRusso and Johnny ramble on and on about the Sekai Taikai. You'd zoned out after a while, not being interested on going to Spain for some karate championship. You couldn't even get into the All Valley, whoever thought you were tough enough to take on the world was mentally deranged.

You already knew who was going, the core four, Miguel, Sam, Robby, and Tory, Hawk, and one lucky other candidate, probably Kenny or Devon, maybe Demetri. You didn't mind knowing you weren't going to go, but felt bad to not be there for Eli. You knew this meant a lot to him, at least, as karate always meant everything to him after he picked it up.

After the conversation ended, you head to the side with Eli as he wanted to spend some time with you while practicing. You were on defense while he worked on offense.

You work with a straight face, off in another world while your boyfriend threw moves at you that you half ass blocked. Eli notices something concerning, plus your half assed moves and your zoned out look, quickly stopping with a worried look.

God damn gi was so loose on your arms.

"Y/n? You okay?"

You quickly blink and nod, definitely not reassuring to him at all.

"Are you sure?"

"Yup"

As you sit down in the car with Eli, you stare out the window, waiting for him to take you home. You were quiet and distant, having barely spoken a word to your boyfriend.

You'd been growing distant for a while, the lack of sleep, the urge to hurt yourself again. It ate away at you like a parasite, a leech sucking away your energy and positivity.

As he sits down in the drivers seat, he looks at you, a soft, concerned look upon his face.

"Are you okay?"

You nod, pulling your sleeves down over your arms.

"Did you relapse?" He asks quickly but softly, worried about your health.

You stay silent, knowing you couldn't admit the truth but also couldn't lie to him.

"Y/n..." He softly rests his hand over your arm, pulling your sleeve up. You stay silent and limp, giving in to him. "How- Why?"

You shrug. "They're scars. They're old."

"How old?" He asks, wondering how long he'd gone without noticing.

"Months" You reply, leaning your head on your hand, elbow perched on the arm rest on the door.

He calmly grabs a red Sharpie from his console, opening it before grabbing your forearm carefully. He presses the marker to your skin, causing you to look over with a raised eyebrow.

"What're you doing, Eli?"

He smiles, continuing to draw little doodles around your scars.

"Drawing stars and shit, making it look all nice for my favorite person"

Your solemn expression morphs to a smile as you watch him draw little stars and hearts and flowers around your scars. Drawing wasn't his forte, but it was the thought that counted.

"I love you"

"Love you too, Moskowitz"

[itacats]

Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, stalking, use of the name "sweetheart", kidnapping/abduction, drugging, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: Things are heating up in Part 2! Every choice comes with a price in this world where nothing is as it seems. Hold on tight—it’s going to be a bumpy ride!

Read Part 1 Read Part 3 Read Part 4 Read Part 5 Read Part 6 Read Part 7 Read Part 8 Read Part 9 Read Part 10

Part 2: Shadows Behind the Bar

Behind the bar, where the warmth of laughter and clinking glasses faded into the chill of the early night, a darker reality unfolded in the shadows of the alley. The air was thick with the pungent smell of refuse and the faint echo of distant sirens, but in the gloom, one figure stood still, eyes glinting with an unsettling obsession — Devon, The Stalker.

He was a ghost who had drifted through the bar, blending seamlessly into the fabric of its unremarkable patrons. To everyone else, he was just another face among many, a nondescript customer nursing a drink in the corner. But beneath that facade lay a dangerous predator, watching and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Tonight, the stars had aligned for him, and he would not let this chance slip through his fingers.

As you stepped out the back door, ready to embrace the cool night air and the familiar comfort of home, you were blissfully unaware of the looming danger. The sound of the door clicking shut echoed behind you, but before you could take a breath, a figure lunged from the shadows, emerging from behind the dumpster like a nightmare manifesting in the dim light.

“Hey! I just wanted to talk...” Devon sneered, his voice a cruel mockery of civility as he seized your wrist with a grip that felt like iron. Panic ignited within you, a primal instinct screaming that this was not a conversation — this was a confrontation.

You recoiled, adrenaline flooding your veins as you struggled to free yourself from his sudden grasp. The alley felt suddenly smaller, closing in around you like the jaws of a trap. His eyes, wild and fixated, gleamed with a twisted excitement that sent a chill down your spine. You could see the cracks in his facade, the desperate edge of someone who had crossed the line from infatuation to obsession. This was not the polite flirtation of a regular; this was a man unhinged, driven by motives you couldn't begin to comprehend.

“Let go of me!” you shouted, your voice cracking against the damp night air, but he only tightened his grip, a cruel smile stretching across his face. You had no idea how long he had been watching you, lurking in the shadows, biding his time. Fear clutched your throat, the realization dawning that you were no longer in control of your fate.

Before you could react, he shoved you roughly against the cold metal of the dumpster, the air knocked from your lungs. The world blurred around you, and in that terrifying moment, the fight or flight instinct kicked in. You were supposed to be safe, supposed to be heading home — but the nightmare had begun.

With a swift motion, he dragged you towards a waiting van parked a few yards down the alley. Your heart raced as you struggled, your feet scrambling against the pavement, but it was futile. He was stronger, fueled by a twisted desire that eclipsed any sense of morality. Desperation clawed at your chest as you shouted for help, but the alley was deserted, the bar behind you oblivious to the horror unfolding just out of sight.

In one swift movement, he flung open the side door of the van and shoved you inside, the metallic clang reverberating in the confined space. You stumbled, and as you fell, a blindfold was yanked over your eyes, plunging you into darkness. The scent of stale air mixed with something harsh and chemical, making it hard to breathe.

“Welcome to my world, sweetheart,” he hissed, his voice dripping with menace as he secured your wrists with something rough and unyielding. Panic swelled inside you, drowning out all rational thought. Your mind raced, grappling with the reality that you were being taken far away from everything that felt safe and familiar.

The van jolted as he climbed in beside you, slamming the door shut with a finality that echoed like a death knell. The engine roared to life, and as the vehicle lurched forward, a suffocating silence fell. In that moment, you were stripped of your identity, of the life you knew. You were no longer just a bartender serving drinks; you were a prisoner, thrust into a shadowy existence that promised only fear and uncertainty.

Every bump and turn was a reminder of how quickly everything could change. You fought against the bonds that held you, but the more you struggled, the tighter they felt, each movement a futile attempt to escape a fate that was already sealed. The sound of the tires on the pavement became a twisted lullaby, lulling you into a surreal haze of confusion and dread.

In that darkness, your mind raced with thoughts of what might come next. The faces of your regular patrons that you’d come to look for on your shifts flickered through your memory, more so the faces of those enigmatic men of 141 Mafia. Their laughter and camaraderie is a stark contrast to your current reality. They had been somewhat of your unspoken guardians, even if you hadn’t fully understood their world. Standing up for you if someone was a little too grabby when you served their drinks or walking you to your car if they happened to stay until closing time–which was almost a constant. You couldn’t help but hope and pray that someone–anyone–would see that you were gone. Someone would know…someone would come for you…right?

With your heart pounding in your ears, you clung to that fragile hope. But hope was a thin thread, and in the depths of your captor’s world, shadows loomed large, threatening to swallow you whole.

Read Part 3

Thanks for sticking with me as the plot thickens. We’re only getting started, and there’s a lot more to uncover. Stay tuned for Part 3—this game is far from over!

[f1nalboys]

hey bestie! may i pls request something that is tod from final destination x reader? maybe some fluff headcannons, what it’s like having a sleepover with him? thx u sm! <33

hi bae!!!! i had sm fun writing this >:)) i do think tod would be one of the better characters to have a sleepover with he serves so much genuinely!!! hope you enjoy <3 first request to start out >:)))

Tod Waggner x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 651

WARNINGS: none

TOD LOVES SLEEPOVERSSSS

listen this guy wants to spend 24/7 with you, he is clingy as all fuck

like one of those shelter dogs, you know the vibe

anyways so regardless of whether or not him coming to spend the night is common or not, he’s ECSTATIC!!!! 

bro is jumping for joy up and down like yippee!!!!! YIPPEEEE!!!

he prefers going over to your place because then it feels like a vacation almost

but if you want to come over to his place you have to give him a day’s notice so he can clean up (he is MESSY i'm sorry to say)

he packs a bag and has a smile on his face literally until he has to leave

in my opinion, tod loves a good movie marathon and he is going to want to do classic sleepover shit with you to the point of almost annoying you LMFAO

he's like haha we should order a pizza… we should watch scary movies… pillow fight babe?? wanna gossip and do a face mask? let's talk about boys!!!!

and if you point out that he is the boy in question youd talk about, not only is he getting smug as fuck, hes going to go ‘ill pretend to be someone else!!!! go on and be so honest about how you feel about me babe ;)’

he's a great sleepover guest though, at least the first few times

he's awkward the very first one bc he's sitting on the edge of the bed bag on his shoulders hand in his lap like o-0 so…

its endearing 

and overall he's very chill and will stay by your side or in your bed the entire time

once he's comfortable though… loudest stupidest dumbest mfer!!! he is doing reckless shit and messing with you and trying to prank you and stuff

once he's settled down though, good luck getting him out of your bed for ANYTHING, a fire could break out and tod is staying put

he has to cuddle. it's a rule.

and he has no preference for being big or little spoon honestly, he has pros and cons for both, he just needs you literally right next to him

he does not care what movies you guys watch but he DOES want to watch some shitty stoner comedy like (ignoring the fact devon plays in this movie) he wants to watch idle hands and harold and kumar go to white castle LMFAO 

he's wearing your pajamas…. even if he cant fit he’ll find something to put on his body from slipper to an eye mask to your pjs to a robe to a bonnet, etc etc, you leave that room for longer than 2 minutes and he's playing dress up

you go to shower (and yes he's gonna try and join you he's handsy though so choose carefully) and come back into your room and he's wearing half your wardrobe and going through your jewelry and shit

and when you're like uhm… hello?? he stands there like oh… you're back sooner than i thought…. LIKE UR IN MY ROOM???

he's a popcorn snack guy, plus sour candy. sleepovers are for pigging out and he takes that SERIOUS he’ll sneak his own candy in if he has to

if he falls asleep at like 10pm-12am, then you will have a peaceful night where he sleeps until 8:30am and is well rested and so sweet

and he might even make you breakfast

but if he sleeps before then or later…. good luck

he's going to be LOUD and OBNOXIOUS (positive) and he's going to keep your ass up as long as he can

you're laying in bed in the dark with your eyes closed and he's steady talking trying to remember some obscure tv show from his childhood 

great guy though, love him

and you would have a ball, just don't plan on sleeping much

[aces-and-angels]

Title: Close to You (SFW Edition)

A/N: Hello friends! I had the sudden urge to reread a fic I had originally written for ILAW and decided that I wanted to give it a makeover. Why? 1. bc I’m always up for exploring Ro’s life post-finale. and 2. I thought it would be nice to have a version of this story to share with the girlies (gn) who aren’t into nsfw content. 

To make things exciting for old and new readers, instead of just removing this fic’s ‘dirty thirty’ scene, I wrote an alternate scene in its place. For returning readers, the new content begins under #3. As always, I hope y’all enjoy 🖤

Pairing(s): Abel x MC (F!Rowan), Connor x MC (M!Devon)

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: Set sometime after the ILW finale (Mixed Route) by @itlivesproject​; The many times Rowan wakes up without Abel, and the one time she does.

cw: language; brief mention of blood 

—

1.

Mornings were usually lost on Rowan. Despite following Jocelyn’s intense training regimen, chasing down horrors left her exhausted on a good day. And on a bad one? The ever-shrinking rolls of gauze and medical tape in the first aid kit speak for themselves.

But today was neither a good day nor a bad one. It was the last one. The last one in California, that is- and knowing that left her restless.

It’s pitch black when she wakes up. The world may as well be at a standstill. There were no cars on the road. The neighbors have long since turned in for the night. Even the croaks and whistles of nature disappeared into the wind. She pointedly avoids the clock mounted on the opposite wall. It’s better this way. Easier for her to pretend that time had stopped altogether.

As the grogginess fades, Rowan becomes aware of the weight resting on her. A soft smile graces her lips as she realizes what it is. Or rather, who it is. Abel had rolled over to her side. His head found purchase in the crook of her neck while his arm loosely draped over her frame. So clingy, she thought, raising her hand to stroke his hair. He lets out a pleased hum in response, nuzzling further into her skin.

There’s no stopping the warmth that creeps inside her chest. It swells, dipping down to her belly and back up again, filling her heart. Slow, yet instantaneous. With her eyes locked on him, she hangs onto the moment. No sensation, no matter how little, goes uncherished. Her arm grows numb, but she doesn’t dare to move.

But eventually, her hold on time loosens. The moment fades as her breath gradually matches his, her hand still on his head. All the while, the clock on the wall ticks away. Cars begin to fill the streets. The croaks and whistles of nature mix back in with the wind.

—

“Live from KQED news, I’m Natalia Navarro, filling in for Diane. Good news for commuters! Traffic this morning on the-”

Half-asleep, Rowan blindly reaches out, feeling for the smooth surface of the phone screen. Her irritation grows the longer she searches. Glasses. Water bottle. Abel’s copy of Treasure Island. Glasses again. Where the hell is it? The news reporter continues to babble on, moving from traffic to weather. It’s only when they reach the sports segment does a much larger hand guide hers toward the phone. With a single swipe, the broadcast finally goes silent.

“It’s easier to find things with your eyes open, y’know,” Abel chuckles.

“Tell that to the blind,” she counters.

“You’re not blind. You’re stubborn. Wanna open them for me now?”

“Nope, ‘s too early.” She doesn’t miss how his mouth curves up even with her eyes shut. Not a minute passes before he’s shifting his body, the sheets rustling with his movements. Then, there’s a soft peck on her cheek.  

“Still too early?” The sheer proximity and the low timber of his voice made her shudder.

“Mhm,” she responds, barely suppressing a smile. The bed dips as Abel leans in closer. Her body stiffens with anticipation. Another featherlight kiss, this time on her neck. Quick, but enough to make her skin tingle. “You’ll have to try harder than tha- AH!” A sudden wetness in her ear startles her eyes wide open.

“Gotcha,” Abel grins, triumphantly sticking his tongue out at her. Despite his teasing, his gaze was gentle. It made it annoyingly difficult to glare at him. But she wasn’t quite ready to yield to his charm.

“You are such a- mmph-” he swallows her words with a kiss.

“M’sorry,” he murmurs against her lips, slating his mouth over hers once more.

The will to fight back vanishes- as does any thoughts she had left in her mind. All of them were replaced by the need to glide her hands anywhere she could reach. To feel everything- the rough edges of his scars, the steady thump of his heartbeat, the air leaving her lungs as she kisses him senseless. But, much to her disappointment, Abel pulls away first. “You were saying?” he asks, his tone slightly taunting.

“Um- I- you-” she stammers, unable to form a cohesive thought. Her attempts to collect herself fail miserably. Abel moving closer to rest his forehead on hers also didn’t help anything.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he whispers. That snaps Rowan out of her daze.  

“That’s my line,” she smirks, brushing her nose with his. “And how dare you. I’m always cute.”

“You certainly are.” His hand gently cups her face, lingering briefly before dropping to her side. They stay that way, lying face to face, and breathe each other in. Unlike earlier, the room was now full of color. Morning light peeks through the blinds, casting a beautiful, golden hue over Abel’s features. He glows brighter than any sun. Much easier to stare at too, Rowan jokes in her head. “What’s that smile for?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing. I was just thinking how cute you are for someone with a raging case of bedhead,” she snorts, attempting to tame his unruly mess of hair.

He lets out an exaggerated gasp, which causes her to snicker even more. Tugging at a loose strand of her hair, he sasses back. “You should see what I’m looking at.”

“Baby, what you’re looking at is sheer perfection.”

His eyes glimmer with mischief. “Perfection could use a hairbrush.”

“Rude,” she scoffs, playfully smacking his arm. Still, she allows him to pull her into his arms. Wrapping her own around his broad frame, Rowan feels his shoulders shake. “You’re lucky I love you,” she mumbles into his neck.

“Luckiest man alive,” he manages to choke out between laughs. The joyous, airy sound is infectious, and she finds herself unable to keep a straight face. After a few minutes, his laughter dies out, and there’s a slight pause. Something in the air shifts. Then, ever so softly, he calls out. “Ro?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna miss you.” Her chest tightens at the sadness in his voice. The reality she desperately wanted to escape had finally caught up with her. But the only thing worse than her leaving Abel was leaving Abel upset. So, with a deep breath, she steels her nerves and pulls away just enough to look at him directly.

“Hey, I’m still here,” she soothes, lovingly stroking his cheek with her thumb. He glances over at the wall. His frown deepens.

“Only for another hour,” he grumbles, his eyes glued to the minute hand. Shit, was it already that soon? “I swear, that thing moves faster when you’re here.”

“Baby, look at me.” Her gentle tone brings his attention back to her. “One, I hate that damn clock too.” That earns her a short, breathy laugh. “Two, it’s not forever. Just for now. And three, I love you.”

“I love you. So much.” With that, he leans in and kisses her. Slow and sweet- like they had all the time in the world. Until they didn’t.

—

The hour was up before they knew it. Outside, Rowan slides into the driver’s seat of her car. Abel sticks his head through the open window. “Did you pack your charger?”

“Yes, you watched me pack it remember?”

“Right,” he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, how about your wallet? Do you have that?”

“And all the cards that go with it.”

“What about-”

“Abel,” she interrupts his well-intentioned checklist.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got everything. I promise.” She rubs his hand comfortingly, giving it a quick squeeze.

“Alright,” he concedes. “Drive safe, yeah?”

“Go 30 miles over the speed limit. Got it.” Rowan kisses him once. Then, twice. Then, once again. She bumps her forehead with his. “Love you.”

“Love you more. Now go before I change my mind and carry you back inside.” Reluctantly, Abel steps away, allowing her to roll up her window. Turning the key in the ignition, the engine roars to life. She takes more time than necessary to switch between radio stations. Unbeknownst to her, Abel watches as she needlessly adjusts her mirrors with a sad smile. She does it for the same reason his feet stay rooted at the side of her car door: to savor those final few seconds together.

—

The five-hour drive to Westchester was nothing new to her. She had become somewhat of an expert, no longer relying on the GPS to guide her home. Straight highways eventually curved into winding mountain roads. It’s late in the afternoon when she arrives. The sky had turned grey as clouds blocked out the sun’s rays. She is grabbing the last of her bags from the trunk when someone yells, “Rowan, is that you?” Sitting by the apartment building was Señora Gomez.

“Yeah, it’s me! Hi Señora,” she greets warmly, walking over to her.

“How was California?”

“Fantastic. Abel says hi. He also told me to tell you to lay off the smoking.” She gives a pointed look at her hand.

“That pendejo is 300 miles away, yet still finds a way to nag me,” she clicks her tongue, begrudgingly putting out her cigarette. Rowan stifles a laugh.

“Well, he does a little more for you than that.” The older woman’s eyebrow quirks up with interest. Grinning, she takes out a medium-sized container from her suitcase. “He baked you these conchas. He wanted to make you a tres leches cake, but I thought these would survive the drive better.” Señora Gomez’s eyes light up, her hands eagerly reaching for her gift.

“Ay, I knew I liked that boy for a reason,” she beams, her previous qualm against him already forgotten. “Muchas gracias, mija. Here, take one! You must be hungry from driving.” Knowing better than to refuse her offer, Rowan graciously accepts. The stickiness from the topping instantly coats her fingers. Much like Abel, Señora Gomez stares at her expectantly, waiting for her to eat. Several crumbs fall from her hand as she takes a bite.

“’Fank you,” she says, swallowing before speaking again. “Enjoy those. I’m gonna head inside.”

“I will,” she practically chirps. Rowan grabs the handle of her suitcase and makes her way up to her apartment. After struggling to unlock the door, she’s nearly tackled to the ground by a very excited Moss.

“Damn, Moss. At least let me get inside first,” she chuckles, dropping her bags in the corner. Crouching down, she coos, “Did you miss me, boy?” Moss barks loudly in response. Rowan scratches behind his ear, making his bony tail wag in delight.

“For an undead dog, he’s a damn good runner. Might be better than you, Burke,” Jocelyn says from her spot on the couch.

Ignoring her lighthearted jab, Rowan continues to pet Moss. “Thanks for watching him, Joss. I really appreciate it.”

She shrugged off her gratitude. “Eh, it’s no problem. How’s the nerd?”

“Abel’s doing fine. You should’ve tagged along. It would’ve been fun.”

Her nose scrunches up. “Watch you two be gross during the day and hear you guys fuck through the walls for an entire week? Pass.”

“We didn’t-” Rowan’s protest falters as Jocelyn crosses her arms, giving her a flat look. “It wasn’t the entire week,” she mutters unconvincingly.

“Right. Anyways, I’m gonna head out. Don’t forget- we’re meeting up with the others tomorrow morning.”

“I won’t let you down, coach,” she salutes, which earns her a fond eyeroll.

“Get some sleep, Burke. You look like shit,” she barks over her shoulder. The door clicks shut, leaving her alone with Moss.

“C’mon boy, let’s make some dinner,” she claps. The pitter-patter of his paws follow her to the kitchen, where he (somewhat) patiently waits for his food.

—

The rest of the evening is uneventful. Unpacking her suitcase turned into watching reruns of Dateline. She leans forward, engrossed by the witness testimonies. It’s always the husband. Suddenly, her phone chimes, lighting up the screen with a notification. Her face softens as she reads what it says:

Abel💛: Heading to bed soon- sweet dreams, baby. I love you

She rapidly types back a response, her attention still glued to the television.

Rowan: love you ♥

The phone chimes two more times.

Abel💛: Ro, stop watching Dateline

Abel💛: It’s late. Go to bed

She frowns. How’d he know- Another chime.

Abel💛: We share a Hulu account

Amused, she responds.

Rowan: Okay, mom. I’m going lol

She shuts off the TV. “Looks like the jig is up for us, buddy.”

Moss yawns loudly, stirring from his spot on her lap.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s bedtime.” He hops off the couch and shuffles his way to his dog bed. Within minutes, his loud snores fill the living room. “Night Moss.”

Rowan sheds off her outerwear, slipping on one of Abel’s old college hoodies. Crawling into the sheets, she sends him a picture of her in bed with a text that says, ‘happy?’ He responds immediately.

Abel💛: Very. You look incredibly hot in that btw  

Rowan: that’s why i wore it

Abel💛: You’re evil

Rowan: an incredibly hot evil genius- i know, i’m amazing.

Abel💛: I’m sleeping before you give me any more ideas 😓

Rowan: i say lean into that inspiration- sweet dreams, baby 😘

She sets her phone on the nightstand along with her glasses. It doesn’t take long for her eyelids to droop, growing heavier with every blink. Curling on her side, she inhales the faint scent that lingered on her hoodie. Notes of cinnamon and soap lull her into a dreamless slumber.

—

“Live from WNX, this is Cameron St. Claire. Good morning, Westchester! We’ve got a great show for you folks. Today’s guest is former congresswoman-”

Rowan’s hand slaps at her phone, shutting off the alarm. Every part of her body protested against being awake; Her legs refused to move- her eyes struggled to open. But she muscles through the drowsiness, not wanting to be late.

She stretches her arms out, sighing in relief as her spine cracks with a satisfying pop. Her hand falls, landing on the space next to her- right where Abel would be. She clutches at the empty sheets. It’s not forever. Just for now.

—

2.

*one week later, Rowan’s apartment*

The bathroom counter was littered with various tubs, tubes, and palettes. Rowan’s hand steadies at her lash line, carefully applying eyeliner. Her wrist flicks up to draw a perfect wing. Well, a passable one, at least. It had taken a lengthy YouTube tutorial and several makeup wipes, but the results were worth it.

She strolled into the living room, stopping in front of the floor-length mirror. Damn. I’m hot. Jocelyn told her it was overkill to buy a new black dress to eat at home. But the way it hugged her curves was all the reason she needed to get it. Plus, she knew it would drive Abel crazy. They did agree to dress up, after all.  

“What do you think, Moss?” Moss, lounging on the couch, perks up at his name. She strikes a pose for him. “Pretty good, huh?”

He barks happily, the best compliment he could give.

After her shift at the bar, she’d gone out to grab everything she needed. A white tablecloth to add a bit of flare. Candles for ambiance. And the pièce de résistance: Thai food from Kanda House. Her laptop was placed on the opposite side of the dining table, the camera pointed at where she was seated. She quickly shakes her wireless mouse, clicking on the Zoom link Abel sent her yesterday. Only her video appears on the screen. Guess I’m early. Out of habit, she turns off her camera and microphone while she waits.

Her fingers tap rhythmically against the hardwood. A soft, orange glow radiates from the candlelight, its flames gently flickering left and right. Rowan’s eyes follow the flames dance, watching the wax slowly melt away.

“Baby, are you there? Can you hear me?” Her face immediately lights up at Abel’s voice. She unmutes her microphone.

“I’m here! Ready to be impressed?”

“By you? Always.”

“Alright, turn on your camera on three. One… two… three,” she clicks the camera icon. Their video feeds turn on simultaneously. “Hi,” she greets softly.  

“Hi,” he echoes. “Wow. You look-”  

“I know. So do you.” Unlike her, he opted to wear something that was already in his closet. Not that she minded. Quite the opposite. She couldn’t help but admire him in his father’s old blazer, entranced by the way it stretched at his shoulders. “I like the suit,” she compliments.

‘I love yours,” he sighed.

Rowan bit back a smile. “You love my suit?”

He blinks, confused, before correcting himself. “Dress. I meant dress. Cut me some slack, okay? I’m processing.” A sense of pride surged through her at knowing she could have that effect on him, even virtually.

“Process away, professor. I did get dolled up for you, after all,” she teases, leaning closer to the camera.  

“Consider your efforts thoroughly appreciated.” A buzz from his phone breaks him out of his trance. His eyes dart down, flashing with recognition at the message. “Speaking of effort, I have a surprise for you.”

“You do?” She can barely contain her curiosity, her mind shuffling through all the possible things he could’ve done.  

“Should be at your door any minute now,” he sings. As if on cue, there is a knock on her door. Moss jumps off the couch to inspect the scene himself. He eagerly circles around the welcome mat, barking at the unexpected visitor.

“Moss, down,” Rowan commands. Obediently, he scoots further back. “Good boy,” she praises, then turns back to Abel. “Who is that?”

A knowing smirk spreads on his lips. “Why don’t you go and find out?”

Giddily, she half-jogs to the door, smoothing out her dress. A deliveryman, no older than 20, stood outside with a large bouquet of white calla lilies in hand.  “Rowan Burke?”

She raises her hand. “That’s me.”

“These are for you. Please sign here.” She quickly scribbles her signature on his tablet before taking the flowers from him. “Cool, you’re all set. Have a good night.”

“You too,” she replies, shutting the door. The shock had barely worn off by the time she sits back down. “Oh. My. God.”

“My coworker’s brother is a florist. I picked those because they reminded me of your hair. You like them?” Abel asks, his expression hopeful.

“Baby, I…” she trails off, mesmerized by the elegant display of lilies in front of her. They stood tall, carefully arranged amongst smaller bundles of baby’s breath. She reaches up to touch one of the petals, appreciating the soft texture between her fingertips. Her heart constricts inside her chest, a rush of emotion hitting her all at once. “I fucking hate you.”

His eyebrows shoot up, clearly not expecting that response. “What?! Why?”

“Because I really want to kiss you right now and I can’t,” she whines helplessly.

His features soften. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me when we see each other again.”

“I intend to. I’ve got quite the tab to settle with you,” she quips.

Grinning, he continues their banter. “Do you now?”

“Mhm, and I pay with interest,” she winks flirtatiously. Suddenly, a loud gurgle erupts from her stomach.

“We can discuss your payment plan after dinner. Let’s eat,” Abel chuckles, picking up his fork from the table. They spent the rest of their date chatting over their respective meals. She enjoyed a green curry while he ate away at his leftover barbacoa from last night.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you,” Rowan exclaimed, her words muffled by the rice in her mouth. “I got promoted! You are looking at Westchester Bar & Grill’s newest bartender.”

“That’s great, baby,” Abel congratulated.

“I know! I finally got out of dishwashing duty. And here’s the best part: I get a 30% employee discount on all the food and drinks there. Next time you visit, we’re getting hammered.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll just stick to the wings. I’m not much of a drinker.” To further prove his point, he holds up his glass of water.

“Aw, why?”  

“Because the last time I got drunk, I ended up doing the butterfly naked in a pool.”

She snorts, hiding her laugh behind a napkin. “The butterfly?”

“A rendition of it, yeah,” he elaborates sheepishly.

“You’re such a dork,” she shakes her head. “Okay, no getting hammered. We can be fancy and slowly sip on a glass of white wine together, instead.”

He smiles warmly at her. “Sounds perfect.”

“Of course it does. It was my idea,” she boasted, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Her mood sours as her eyes catch the time displayed on the microwave. “I should get going. I have an early day tomorrow.”

“Me too,” he agreed dejectedly.  

Neither of them move to end the call.

The candles on the table had melted down to tiny nubs, more flame than wax at this point. They don’t say goodbye. Goodbyes hurt too much. They leave that word unspoken, choosing to say this instead:

“I love you, Ro.”

“I love you too, Archaeology Boy.”

And then her laptop goes dark.

—

3.

*another day in Westchester*

Not many people tend to frequent Westchester’s only bar. The occasional patron that would stumble in during the day was far more likely to be there for the food rather than the drinks. Which made it the perfect time to learn how to bartend.

“Alright Burke, let’s see if you’ve done your reading.”

Rowan stares at Niel from behind the bar, a series of nozzles and glasses in front of her. “Hit me, boss.”

“I’ll have one classic daiquiri, an old fashioned, one Moscow mule, and three green tea shots.” He presses start for the timer on his watch. “Go.”

In a flash, she sets all the glassware upright for mixing before turning to grab the liquor. The ingredients along with any garnishes that were needed were already prepped. This was simply a test of speed and finesse- her third attempt since being promoted. Her first try ended with spilled liquor, a sticky floor, and a broken shot glass. The bottles that once felt foreign in her hands- too heavy and awkward to grasp- were now held with a firm, confident grip as she poured out the liquid with practiced ease. It wasn’t long until she slid his completed order towards him. “Your libations, good sir.”

Niel stops the timer. “Hm, not bad.”

“Not bad? I crushed that.”

“Let’s put a pin on the ego until after I try the drinks, yeah?” He picks up the bronze mug closest to him, eyeing its contents before taking a sip. There was no obvious sign of disgust. That’s good, I think? But Niel left little up for interpretation, his face remaining stoic as he smacked his lips together to assess the flavors. Being the only two people in the bar only added to the scrutiny she felt. The only sounds between them were the clank of glasses against the wooden countertop.

“So?”

“So what?”

“How’d I do?”

Niel sniffs, setting down his empty shot glass with a thud. “Decent presentation overall. You don’t need to look up the ingredients anymore, which is good. You’re still a heavy pourer, though. I'll go bankrupt if you keep that up.”

“I’m sensing a big, fat but coming,” she sings, leaning forward with a smirk tugging at her lips.

“But you managed to pass the test, kid,” he sighs. His exasperation only grew as she celebrated her triumph.

“Fuck yeah! Goodbye dishes, hello sweet tip jar. Up top,” Rowan hollered, holding out her hand to Niel, who only stared at her palm blankly. “Oh, c’mon boss. Don’t leave me hanging.”

There’s a brief pause. A moment where she thinks her request will be denied. Then, it comes- the roughness of his weathered skin meeting hers in a single, satisfying slap. “Anyone tell you that you’re insufferable yet?”

“Too many to count. I take it as a compliment,” she snickers, putting the empty shot glasses in the sink. “What do you want me to do with the extra drinks?”

“Consider this happy hour, Burke.”

Rowan’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re not bullshitting me, are you? Like if I agree, you won’t fire me right?

“Ain’t anyone here to entertain. Just make sure you’re sober before the dinner rush.” With that, Niel swipes the old fashioned and heads towards his office in the back.

“I love this job,” she hums, sipping on a daiquiri. 

~later that night~

“Get yer paws off my keys, woman!”

Rowan groans, pinching the bridge of her nose. I spoke too soon. “Jasper, you’re drunk. You can’t drive.”

“The hell I can’t! I’m per- belch- perfectly fine,” he slurs. His poor attempt to prove her wrong ended with him faceplanting on the floor. 

“That looks about right.” She pockets his keys before moving to lift him off the floor.

“That was smooth,” Devon comments from his stool.

“Are you here just to criticize me?" Rowan grunts, pushing Jasper up against the nearest booth. He snores loudly, but otherwise is dead to the world.

"I'm here for the free booze, actually. The critiques are a bonus," he winks cheekily.

"What he means to say is thank you. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" Connor gives his fiancé a pointed look, which he returns with one of his own. They stare each other down, having a full conversation with their eyes alone.

Eventually, Devon relents. "Ugh, fine. Thank you for the free booze. Happy?"

"Very." Connor gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Aw, that was really moving," she coos, placing a hand over her heart. Her façade crumbles into a fit of laughter as he teasingly flips her off. "But you guys don't have to thank me. Consider it an early wedding gift."

"There will be another gift from you at the actual wedding though, right?"

Connor nudges him with his elbow. "Devon!"

"What? I'm just asking!"

Rowan only smirks, returning to her place behind the bar. She slides a half empty champagne bottle towards them. "I trust you two will know what to do with the rest of this. I'm gonna call a cab for Jasper."

"Hey, you didn't answer the question!"

Connor pats him lovingly on the shoulder. "Let it go, sweetheart."

"Yeah, let it go sweetheart," she taunts. Devon glares at her, ready to argue, but is quickly distracted by another glass of champagne being shoved into his hand.

"To us," Connor cheers, clinking their glasses together. Chuckling, Rowan takes the opportunity to escape and walks into Niel's office.

"Evening, boss. Jasper's passed out on table four."

Niel heaves out a long sigh then picks up the phone on his desk. "He didn't puke on my floors, did he?"

"Happy to report that your floors are vomit-free."

"Fantastic. Go make sure it stays that way," he says.

"On it," she salutes, turning back towards the bar. Upon her arrival, she catches Devon and Connor in the middle of a heated make out session, their champagne flutes empty and forgotten on the counter. Well, that didn't take long. They don't notice her presence at all- completely lost in each other's embrace. "Ahem."

The sound startles them both apart, their heads simultaneously whipping in her direction. It was hard not to laugh at their equally disheveled appearance. "Oh- uh- hey! H-how long have you been standing there?" Connor asks breathlessly, his voice hoarse.

"Long enough to see tongue." Her blunt response causes Connor to flush profusely.

"Don't mind her, babe. She's just jealous," Devon purrs, sliding his hand down Connor's chest suggestively, which only made him blush harder.

"W-we should head out," Connor suggests, gently prying his fiancé's hand off his body.

"Mm, yeah we should. I can't wait to-"

"And we're going!" Connor blurts out, cutting him off. "Ro, thanks for everything."

"It was my pleasure. You boys enjoy the rest of your night." She tips her head at them, thoroughly amused. Devon stumbles forward, giggling as he and Connor leave the bar hand in hand.

—

It’s nearly three in the morning by the time Rowan makes it back to her apartment. Moss, loyal as ever, greets her at the front door. "Hey, bud. What are you still doing up? Did you wait for me?"

He makes a small noise in his throat, nuzzling her leg lovingly.

"Good boy," she praises, scratching the spot behind his ear. After a moment, Moss licks her palm and trots to his bed. Taking his lead, she plops herself on the couch, sinking into the soft cushions. The hours of standing had taken a toll on her feet. Turns out combat boots weren't the best choice of footwear for pulling a double shift.

For the first time that night, she checks her phone. One text from Amalia, two emails that are probably spam, and a voicemail from Abel.

Bitch: congrats on the new gig! shots on you next time i’m in town lol

She chuckles quietly while typing her reply.

Rowan: i’ll make sure to save the really good stuff if you bring over some la bandera

As expected, her message is left unread. Amalia always had the healthier sleeping pattern between them. Even before the nightmares. She goes to her voicemail next, pressing play.

“Hey baby!” Abel’s warm voice fills her ears, instantly bringing a smile to her face. “Remember that research proposal I'm working on? The rest of the team thinks we have a real shot at getting our grant approved! I’m so excited- I know I shouldn't get my hopes up too high, but I can't help it. I already baked two dozen sugar cookies trying to burn off all this energy. Anyways, I'm calling because I wanted you to be the first to know. Well, second. Lola called me earlier. Not sure when you’ll hear this so goodnight, good morning, or good afternoon if you end up sleeping through your alarms again. Love you.”

Her vision was blurry by the time the message ends. It was simple- nothing more than an update. So why was she teary eyed over it?

Maybe it was because Jasper decided to throw up right when her shift ended. Maybe it was from the soreness in her muscles from working a double. Or maybe it was just because it was 3 AM. Yeah, that’s it.

It’s 3 AM. She's tired.

It’s 3 AM and all she wants to do is call him, hear him talk way too fast that his words blend together because he's happy. But she doesn’t.

Because it’s 3. Fucking. AM.

If anything, she’d be pissed at him for being awake or pissed at herself for waking him up.

Frustrated, her gaze lands on the calla lilies resting on the coffee table. Its petals have since wilted despite her best efforts to maintain them, but she couldn’t bring herself to throw them away. Not when the only thing she sees whenever she admires them is him. Him and his stupidly adorable face.

A face she could only see in flowers. One that’s forever mixed with golden rays of light. He’s plastered all over the walls- old family photos he couldn’t fit in his suitcase along with some of their own. Behind closed eyes, if she’s lucky, he appears in her dreams. She can see him everywhere. Just not in person.

It’s 3 AM, so she sends one last message. The only one her brain can manage to think of at a time like this.

Rowan: I miss you.

—

She wakes up to the sound of rain hitting the rooftop. There’s a nasty crick in her neck from passing out on the couch. Groaning, she turns away from the window, blocking the light with a throw pillow. Meanwhile, the calla lilies droop a little further as the pile of petals surrounding its vase grows. On the floor, her phone screen lights up. A single message is left unread.

Abel 💛: I miss you too

—

4.

*one week later, at the warehouse*

“A gun?” Rowan examines the weapon in her hand, testing its weight. Huh, it’s pretty light.

“A dart gun,” Tom clarifies. “This bad boy is gonna make injecting horrors way easier. Allow me to demonstrate.” He takes the gun from her, unloading the cartridge. “See that chamber on the darts?”

She nods. “What about ‘em?”

“I filled them all up with Lucas’ serum,” he explains enthusiastically. “With this you won’t have to tackle every horror you see. Just pull the trigger and presto, another cured human.” He mimes shooting a horror down with his fingers. Impressed, Rowan claps him on the back.

“Nice work, Sato. Where’d you get all the darts anyways?”

“Parker knows a guy from Animal Control.”

“Hm, I guess there is a bright side to having a cop for a friend.” Tom snorts loudly, drawing the attention of the witches nearby. “When can I test it out?”

“Today, possibly. Devon found a new lead, but he’s driving up to Portland with Connor for a cake tasting. I’ve got work in an hour, so I’m out. Can you and Jocelyn take this one?”

Grinning, she whips out her cell phone. “Already on it.”

~one hour later~

The sun hung high in the sky. Tall trees surrounded her from all sides. Up ahead, Jocelyn examines a smear of blood splattered on a boulder. “Burke, come check this out.”

Rowan jogs to where she is, peering down at the rock. Her fingers swipe a line through the stain. “It’s still warm. Maybe-” a terrified shriek in the distance cuts her off. Her and Jocelyn take off immediately. They weave through the forest trail, cutting across a shallow river. Adrenaline courses through her, propelling her legs to run faster. “Which way?”

“Go right,” Jocelyn barks out. The screams grow louder. A harsh growl roars through the air.

“RRAGH!”

“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!”

Rowan unholsters her dart gun, her boots pounding hard against the gravel below. A blood-splattered horror enters her field of vision. Next to them was a  teenage boy, desperately trying to stumble away from his attacker. His face is marred with scratch marks. He receives another gash to his leg as the horror swipes at it with their claws.

“Hey ugly! Over here!” Rowan whistles. The horror spins around, their face twisting with rage. No longer interested in the boy, they charge directly at her. “That’s it. Just a little closer.” Her finger steadies itself on the trigger, waiting for a clear shot. She looks through the sight and lowers her shoulders to fix her aim. With a deep breath, she pulls the trigger. Shooting out the barrel, the dart hits the horror square in the chest.

They collapse to their knees, groaning as the serum enters their bloodstream. Tremors wrack through their body as their sickly grey skin transforms back into a warm beige. Their claws retract and their frame shrinks back to normal. “Wh-wha? Where am I?”

“About five miles off regulation hiking trails. Now let’s go,” she replies, pulling them up to their feet. They glance at the teenage boy, who was currently being bandaged up by Jocelyn. Their face morphs with regret.

“Was that because of me?”  

Rowan looks at them with sympathy. “It wasn’t your fault. If you follow me, I can get you the help you need.”

“A-alright,” they nod, brushing the dirt off their clothes. “Um? Could you?” They point at the dart lodged in their chest.

“Right. Sorry.” Rowan grips the base of the dart and swiftly pulls it out. “Hey Joss! You okay if I go ahead and take them to the warehouse?”

“Yeah, sure. I won’t be- BURKE, YOUR LEFT!” She whirs her head around in time to see a second horror, much larger than the former, barrel into her, knocking her to the ground.

“Get- off- me-” she grunts, struggling to pry the horror’s hands off her arm. A kick to their abdomen pushes them off enough for her to crawl out from under them.

“You’re mine,” they sneer, baring their fangs out menacingly. A string of drool hangs loosely from their lip. Rowan tries to lift herself up, but the horror moves faster, tackling her back down. The force of the impact sends them both tumbling down a hill. A searing pain shoots through her as she slams into a jagged stone. There’s yelling in the distance. The weight of the horror on top of her is pulled off. A panicked voice tells, no, begs her to wake up. But she can’t seem to focus, her head suddenly hazy. Something trickles down her forehead. The last thing she sees is sunlight shining through the thick foliage of the trees. Then, everything goes quiet.

~meanwhile, at Rowan’s apartment~

Abel locks the car door behind him as he skips up the stairs of his old apartment complex. He spent the last couple of days in back to back meetings with his research students, but it was well worth it because it cleared his schedule for him to surprise Rowan. Excitement bubbled up inside his chest as he got closer to her door. She had loved the flowers he got her so much that he decided to buy the same bouquet again. Only this time, he could give it to her in person.

He adjusts the collar of his sweater and rolls back his shoulders before knocking on her front door. A moment passes. He knocks again. This is what I get for being spontaneous, he scolds himself. Taking out his phone, he calls her. The phone rings several times.

“Hey, this is Ro. Leave a message if you want. Beep.”

He tries again, but is met with the same voice message. Suddenly, his phone vibrates in his hand. BFFL 👩🏻‍🤝‍👨🏽 displays on the screen. He quickly taps the answer button. “Joss! Guess what? I’m back in town! Is Rowan with you? I guess I should’ve told her I was-”

“Abel, something happened.” The seriousness in her voice gives him pause.

“Where are you?”

“The hospital. Listen, she’ll be fine but-” His stomach drops. He’s too distraught to listen to anything else Jocelyn tells him. The flowers in his hand drop to the ground, forgotten. His feet are running before he can register that he’s moving.

—

*several hours later, at Westchester Medical Center*

The strong smell of antiseptic hits Rowan first. Machines whir and chime in a steady pattern.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Calling Dr. Benson to Room 8.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.  

She struggles to open her eyes. The florescent light above her too bright for her to bare. Through the small slit of her eyelids, she sees that she’s dressed in a white gown. Tubes of IV lines hang from her arm. Where am I? Something soft presses to her hand. It’s warm. Familiar. As the haziness fades, the ache in her limbs become more apparent. Everything is sore. Why does it hurt to breathe? Metal rings clang together. Some sort of curtain being pulled, she assumes. Then, a young man’s voice breaks through the white noise.

“Sir, only family is allowed to stay after visiting hours.”

“But I am family! I’m uh- I’m her fiancé,” Abel stutters out. Abel? But he’s in California. Wait. Am I in California? No, I was hunting with Joss…

“I don’t see a ring.”

“We’re getting it resized.”

The other person huffs out a disgruntled ‘whatever’ before exiting the room. There’s another squeeze to her hand. Abel’s thumb soothingly rubs over her knuckles. She tries to say his name, but her throat is tight. The best she can manage is a weak groan. “Nng.”

“Rowan?” Abel’s grip on her hand tightens. She begins to move, but winces as a stabbing pain shoots to her side. “Hey, take it easy,” he instructs gently, easing her back into bed.

“Aye aye captain.” Her eyes slowly flutter open. She smiles lazily at him. “Hey, sunshine.”

“How do you feel? Do you need anything? I can go get the nurse. Is your pillow-”

“Baby, slow down. I’m processing one question per minute right now,” she jokes, but her head does still feel like it’s spinning. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital. Y-you… you got-” Abel hiccups, his frown deepening.

“Hey, it’s okay-”

“It’s not okay!” He yells, his voice cracking. “You promised! You said you wouldn’t get hurt and you did! You-” he takes a shuddered breath before continuing. “You scared me to death.” His hair shields his face as he looks down at their joined hands.

“Abel…” He doesn’t move, except for the slight tremor in his shoulders. A teardrop lands on her hand. He’s crying. A bitter taste fills her mouth. He’s hurting and it’s her fault. She tries to think of something to say but she can’t think straight with that stupid beeping. Wait… that’s it! “Abel, do you hear that?”

“No,” he mumbles, too preoccupied with holding her hand to look at her.

“You don’t hear the beeping?”

He glances up, confused. “You mean the heart monitor?”

“Yeah. Do you hear it?”

“I hear it. So what?”

She gingerly moves her free hand to her chest and taps at her heart. “It means that this thing still works,” she smirks.

Abel let’s out something between a scoff and a laugh. But it’s enough to bring him out of his sorrow. “You’re an idiot,” he sniffles, wiping away his tears with his sleeve.

“But I’m your idiot.” She squeezes his hand in reassurance. “Also ‘idiot’ is a mean thing to call your fiancée.”

His eyes widen. “You were awake?”

“Barely. But I still heard it. So remind me, my oh so wonderful fiancé, how’d you propose? Did I know it was going to happen? How big of a diamond are we talking about here? I can’t quite remember on the account of the concussion,” she chuckles, wincing as pain shoots through her ribcage.

Smiling, Abel plays along. “It was a surprise. We talked about it beforehand, but you never knew when I was gonna pop the question. I finally asked during our romantic getaway in Mexico. And I went with a non-traditional moss agate ring. I thought it would suit you more.”

“Oo, did I cry?

“Like a baby.”

“Gross. I love it.”

Abel kisses the inside of her wrist. Then he moves up, placing soft pecks to each of her fingers with such reverence her heart does a flip. The heart monitor speeds up slightly. “I love you,” she breathes. “And I’m really glad you’re here.”

“So am I.” He brings her hand to his chest. She feels the steady thump beneath her palm. Gentle, yet strong. Just like him. “And I love you, Rowan Burke. More and more each day.”

—

In the morning when I wake And the sun is coming through Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness And you fill my head with you

Shall I write it in a letter? Shall I try to get it down? Oh, you fill my head with pieces Of a song I can’t get out

Can I be close to you?

[devonsbuckethat]

“Your manager please?”

Devon x gn!reader

Cw: Devon and reader dealing with a Karen because no matter where you go there is always going to be at least one trying to be annoying (also maybe slight TW of Devon blaming himself for letting this happen)

Devon comfort, bc he's just a poor boy being paid minimum wage to deal with people's bs

The store was awfully quiet, occasionally a few people would walk in occasionally, quickly buying something and leaving. Some stayed in to hang out after school, but seeing you making your way into the shop after school made the cashier's heart flutter a bit.

He loved when they took time out of their day to drop by and help around the shop, even if his manager was slightly tired of it. It was about a quarter past 5 in the afternoon and business was slow and rather calm.

At this point, youhad decided to hop behind the counter to talk to their lover, who looked at peace with them there.

“I'll be right back, love” they said, scooting their way under his hat to give him a peck on the forehead.

“It's boring when you leave, be quick.” he said as he slightly pouted a bit

They gave him a thumbs up as they walked out the store, but the timing couldn't be worse, as they left a woman entered. She looked to be in her mid 40s, maybe late 30s, she walked with a purse held in the inner crook of her elbow as her heels clicked and clacked across the glossy floor.

She went to the drinks' area of the store, grabbing a Red Bull before heading up to the front of the shop now meeting eye to eye with the cashier who looked like he didn't want to spend another minute there.

“Just these and two packs of cigs, Belmont, to be specific.”

Devon kneeled down to grab two cigarette packs with the specified brand the customer wanted, before scanning them as well as her drink.

“I'm gonna need to scan your ID, ma'am” He said as his fingers tapped the front counter to a rhythm.

“Isn't it obvious, I'm old enough?” the woman said with a smart aleck tone to her voice.

“Listen ma’am it’s store policy I see your ID even if I can clearly tell you are old enough” Devon spoke looking around in hopes that you would walk in those doors and be his savior to the issues he wish he didn’t have to face alone like an upset customer who’s wasting more time not doing what he’s saying then actually listening and doing what was told.

Thankfully he saw you on the other side of the street walking over, though he wishes you could’ve put a little more pip to your step just knowing you were coming back relaxed him a little.

“Well if you can clearly tell I obviously don’t need to show any ID to you, especially to what a 16 year old who probably doesn’t even have an ID of your own?” She said crossing her arms knowing damn well she could in fact just show him her ID but apparently she has her pride to look out for.

“it’s 17…” he said, while his voice began to slightly crack up a bit

“Doesn’t change the fact, just tell me my total and I won’t have to cause a scene”

As much as Devon wanted to just follow through with what she said because a scene is the last of his concerns and especially one he didn’t want to deal with. Seeing you come through the doors finally gave him the bit of relief and confidence to take her on himself.

“I’m not gonna do that ma’am I need some ID please” You walked in the store with your own bag from another store, it seemed you got Devon a few trinkets from a nearby thrift store, you knew how much he loved seeing what you would get him.

At this point the woman was fed up, no she wasn’t going to give any ID pff why would she? Whatever she says goes right? Because obviously the customer is always right…right? No reason to rebel against a woman like her, no, not at all.

“I want your manager!” She said, which perked up your ears a bit, the sound of Devon asking why she wanted the manager over something so little was also being talked about. You put the bag in your hands next to the backpack you brought over and laid behind the counter.

“Excuse me, do you work here?!” The woman spoke out suddenly to you while adjusting her purse over her shoulder with a hand on her hip at this point.

“I mean no, but I know the cashier” you shrugged a bit noticing Devon’s demeanor changed to a more relaxed look, but he still wasn’t happy with the scene being presented to him especially since he had to see this woman getting mad at you when you barely walked in.

“Tell him I don’t need to show any ID when it’s obvious I don’t need to!” She pointed to him, as both you and your boyfriend kinda just stared back and forth at each other, as you tried to hold in the laugh that wanted to make itself known.

“It’s store policy and not even that hard to do” you said leaning against the counter to give your statement to the woman.

“God, if no one’s going to get me an actual adult then I’ll just go and have to look for one myself” the woman moved to the side of the front counter where the back door was as she quickly knocked before opening up. Yet to her dismay, there was no one back there.

“Kids can’t even do their damn jobs right, go back to school and maybe get a job that you can actually do correctly!” she said tossing the cigarettes and dramatically slammed the drink on the counter as the two caught them before they could slide off the counter.

The sound of the same ‘clicks’ and ‘clacks’ were rather quick as she made her way out of the store quickly, you took her drink and put it back to where it was supposed to be as Devon put back the cigarettes underneath the counter.

The sound of his phone typing started up, he was texting pretty quick even if he’s known to take his time with things, about 10 minutes later one of your guy’s friends from school came in with the same outfit Devon wore.

“I owe you one” Devon said, you gave them a pat on the shoulder as well as a nod of approval as the two of you quickly made your way to the back room, as you brought your bag and backpack to the back.

As soon as Devon sat down you felt the tension rising, you sat next to him as he put his head down on his arms to rest after what happened. You put an arm around his shoulder, trailing to the middle of his back, and started to rub up and down along him.

“Um… I’m sorry for letting that get out of hand” he said, muffled a bit because of his head in his arms, He had so much more to say but at the same time had no way to say it.

“There wasn’t anything you could do, love, you did what you were supposed to do, and she didn’t accept it, simple as that.” Your voice calm and fluid.

“But I should’ve been able to do something more about it” he said now resting only his chin on his arms as an awkward pause made its way after a few seconds “I’m no good at this…” he closed his eyes. Inhaling a bit before letting out a sigh.

“Hey, none of that now, look at me.” Your hand made its way off his back to the side of his cheek, gesturing him to look in your direction.

He turned his head to look at you as you pulled his hat off and laid it on the table you both sat at, your hand on his cheek and hair, the other going through his black locks of hair, which you know he liked.

“You’re so good at the things you do, you don’t have to be perfect, you don’t have to know every solution to every problem y’know? You’re human, not infallible. It’s okay to fail, and it’s okay to not have resolve to something that should, we’re all going to wish we could do what we can’t, but even I know you’re going to have times like this where things kinda go out of your control. Babe, you’re human and I love you for you, especially the imperfect bits about you, because I get to talk about how much they make me love you more and more.”

Silence filled the air before the sounds of him choking up began, the sounds of his nose beginning to sniffle and finally the feeling of his grabbing your hand that was still on his cheek as he let himself melt into your touch. He wasn’t going to let himself be a whole sob fest for you, but just seeing him trust you enough to be like this was more than you could ever ask.

“You don’t have to be strong anymore, let me hold you, I’ll keep you safe” you said pulling him into your warm and secure embrace, letting himself be free and away from the problems of the modern world even if just for a few minutes.

As time went by his quiet cries softened and his breathing leveled out, his thumb was his in the palm of your hand, feeling you, knowing you’re there with them and keeping him safe.

“Oh! Babe I got you this” he felt your hand slip away from him to grab the bag you went out and got, his face was back to that confused look but without the disinterest across his face. You grabbed a small bracelet with a half black heart charm on it, as you put it around his right wrist.

You pulled a second one out as you requested him to put it on your left wrist, after a few minutes of struggling with each other’s bracelet you were able to intertwine each other’s hand with one another’s as the bracelets charm was magnetically connected which lit up his face with a smile.

“This is sick, thanks a lot babe” he said laying his head on your shoulder as you two sat there in peace and no worry in the world

BONUS BECAUSE I SAY SO

The friend group realizing you’re in a relationship with Devon

Whether you do or don’t actually skate it doesn’t matter, you spend a lot of time near skate parks, so you can get away from a lot of the more populated areas of the city. That’s how you met Miriam, you were relaxing maybe drawing some scenery, or maybe you were riding around, and you piqued her interest to come say hi.

Either way you became friends with her rather quickly, you both were rather fond of one another and the friendship was pretty nice, you understood each other’s humor, and you were so supportive of each other.

It didn’t take long for Miriam to want to introduce her other friends to you, they were nice to talk to as well as meet. Except a girl in purple poked around the bracelet you wore to fidget with, you never really worried until the dreaded question.

“Who has the other piece to the bracelet y/n?” now on any other day you would assume it would be easy to just go and say ‘oh y’know the guy who works at the daisy mart mhm he’s my boyfriend yup’ but what you found out was that around the same time every weekday before you visit your boyfriend the group of friends begin to leave while looking all dazed in thought or something.

That’s when you were told by your boyfriend that he has children admirers, and it didn’t take long for you to decipher that this group here is the same group who has a crush on the guy who you are dating. You could easily admit that your lover is in fact, but Devon, but at the same time letting the kids have their fun was at stake.

“Oh, just one of my friends who goes to school. Cant go wrong with a friendship bracelet every now and again” you smiled with pride even though it was evident to you that, there was no pride behind that smile but only the fact that you had a malicious idea in mind

The five of you spent some more time with each other before it was eventually decided for everyone to head on home, this plan crisp in your mind as you drift off to sleep.

The next day went on as planned, getting through the dreaded classes, having to listen to lectures and talks about the subjects you had to learn, you made it through the day with only one hope in mind that the group would be on their way to see Devon.

You were a few buildings away, but you were able to practically see the blush on all of their cheeks even from how far you were, you began walking while looking down on your phone to act as if you couldn’t see nor hear them at all, even with all the small bickering about you joining them.

“y/n!” “hey hey, y/n!” “Y/N!!” “y/nnnnn…”

You ignored their callouts to your name as you pushed the doors to the Daisy mart open, while everyone watched in awe of your bold move, or at least it was bold to them.

Devon turned around from looking at all the items on the wall as he was met with you, hands in your pockets, walking towards him with a welcoming grin. He grew a soft smile as he saw you, which made the group outside squint with intrigue as to what they were seeing.

You abruptly stopped looking around at the items on the shelves nearby, picking up a few snacks as you put them on the counter

“Work been treating you well?”

“It’s been fine, but I guess it’s even better with you here”

You both smiled at one another before he began scanning your items and putting them in a bag for you.

“Can I have a kiss?” Devon spoke shrugging knowing the answer

“Oh, needy aren’t we?” you slid the amount of money for the items to him, while also walking around behind the register, cupping his cheek in your hand.

You felt the excruciating burning sensation of 8 eyes all on you as your actions continued, the girls were practically jaw dropped yet blushing at the same time from what they were witnessing. Abby swore she could see Prius actually have a shocker look on her face from the reflection on the glass.

Your left hand went into his right as the bracelet charms connected together as you kissed him softly, but not without quickly staring over at the 4 who had assumed you didn’t notice them.

Let’s just say they wouldn’t leave you alone after what they just saw, as well as clowning on you for not telling them it was Devon who was your boyfriend.

[lychniis]

GENSHIN DUDES AS CAT BREEDS. GO.🐱

⚘ — GENSHIN MEN AS CAT BREEDS.

i. SYNOPSIS : tired cat mom talks about genshin men as cat breeds - and basically as cats as a whole. ( various x gn ! reader )

ii. WARNING(S) : nothing much save for some crack, cat behavior, mentions of dead animals, more cat behavior, me having to look up certain breeds because i only have experience with short haired alley cats like my two babus lots and lots of cute shit. NOT PROOFREAD.

# masterlist

&& . tartaglia | childe

starting off with him because he's the easiest, i'd either say the siberian ( from my mothers ye old tales of having taken one of these abandoned fluffers in, said abandoned fluffer leaving behind her two kids for the humans to deal with ) or kin...who is actually MY cat but trust me, if childe were a cat, he would be kin. petty to a point where he will leave a gift behind on my dad's bed solely because they hate each other? yes. somehow win the affections of my cat-hating aunt? yes. attention seeking and annoying? yes. ginger? yes. he's one cat very prone to getting zoomies so the moment he's excited, he's nyooming all over the place at mach speed.

&& . arataki itto

the maine coon, that's it. the moment i thought of cat itto, i thought of this breed. these fuckers are HUGE almost comically so ( and i mean it, they are bigger than most small dogs for crying out loud ) and they do seem to come across as playful and friendly. he seems like the kind of guy who cares little about your desk space and will climb up to demand your attention then just stretch out over it with a happy purr. he will ALSO unironically hunt down any bugs within your vicinity...only to bring them back to you ( rip if you're terrified of arthropods ). it's hard to stay mad at him though, with how sweet he is.

&& . diluc ragnvindr

a ragamuffin seems to be the first one that comes into mind. when i was still a big city girl, i volunteered at a shelter for a while and i saw one over there ( poor thing was pretty overheated since indian summers are relentless ). but the little guy was pretty laid back for the most part and somewhat standoffish and excessively preeny. ragdolls are pretty fluffy too so he would make a really nice cuddle buddy...until the fur gets all over your clothes. he also tends to set out at nights pretty often and gets back gifts for you to leave at your doorstep ( he learned not to bring them inside ) and very pointedly expects you to make use of it the next day. so uh...bury the poor things when he isn't around.

&& . kaeya alberich

birman. it's the pretty blue eyes, yes i am a basic bitch in her ideal habitat come at me. but as someone who also loves ironic and undeniably mean symbolism sometimes, the birman nearly went extinct in europe during world war ii ( and yes i actually had to look that up ). he latches on to your lap. the lap cat. you sit down? he's going to casually approach you and take his seat without batting an eye. don't question it or put him down, he will look painfully offended and may ignore you for the next two hours before he returns to sit on your lap again.

&& . xiao | alatus

devon rex. the face does it for me, and the big ears and eyes. xiao is already a bit of a stereotypical cat person in my eyes - distant, quiet, a little standoffish. and he does come across as that for the most part, either latching on to you or anyone he fully trusts. with anyone else ( especially strangers ) he flat out avoids them and watches them from a safer distance, either from behind a wall or from under a table or chair. it's advisable you don't pursue him till he get's used to you and the environment first or else he will get hissy. contrary to belief though, he keeps scratching to a minimum ( he's polite that way ) and only does so when he feels extremely threatened.

&& . venti | barbatos

the la perm is an easy win. we had one of these guys when i was still young and she was the loudest little thing ever. as a cat, he's going to be off on his own pretty often, wandering around the neighborhood only to return around mealtimes and chats up a storm with you. funnily enough, he only makes one nightly trip before he comes back home, chats up another storm when you're trying to sleep then settles down for a nap beside you. he tends to be a little in your face and carefree but he's pretty easy to manage apart from that and puts up less of a fuss around people, unlike xiao.

&& . zhongli | rex lapis

okay he's the last one because i am very conflicted between a few breeds. i think he's either be a burmese cat or a somali ( or perhaps even a mix between both ). almost painfully bougie and refined, he's more of an indoor cat who takes small walks around the neighborhood around the evenings. he also likes to collect your things o if your keys are missing, it's probably in zhongli's basket. he's also particular to certain tastes so he's a very fussy eater, has certain spots he likes being scratched and yes, you MUST give him a good brush down after the mentioned walks. he will stare into your soul if you happen to forget. otherwise? he's pretty calm and laid back and seems to take new arrivals better than you'd expect.

AINE | 2022. do no plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

[lowkeyrobin]

can you please do a demetri x fem reader?? reader has like the biggest crush on him, shes nerdy like him and has the courage of asking him out :3

oo okay! ; one little thing, I do only write gn/ they/them readers so everyone can enjoy and everyone feels included! gender wasn't mentioned practically at all but yk 🙏 ; but thank you for requesting! hope you enjoy! ; also I kept this short and sweet cause I rlly couldn't drag it out much lol

DEMETRI ALEXOPOULOS ; nerds

summary ; you've had a crush on demetri for a long time, and you finally gain the courage to ask him out

warnings ; language

word count ; 619

masterlist

You haven't known Demetri for that long, but after being introduced by Sam and Miguel, you'd come to like him, a lot. You were both nerds, finding peace in niche fantasy comics and superhero movies. He'd often make references and come over to your house to watch a new movie or the latest release in a comic series you were reading.

But he'd never taken the hints, ever.

You tried making advances a trillion times, your friends would often joke about you or stick you together. You didn't do karate like them, but sometimes you wish you did because maybe, just maybe, he'd look at you. Maybe you'd be able to impress him enough to see the potential you held in a relationship, if that even made sense.

But, after the fall of Cobra Kai and Kreese and Silver, you'd had some months to kind of tune into karate, see what they did, help them out with little favors. You had nothing better to do, so why not just help them out and maybe make new friends?

That's where Tory came in.

You'd ranted on and on to her and Robby about how much you liked Demetri and how you wished he'd just see the signs. They promised to help you with him, and they held themselves to their word.

You were at the county fair, accompanying Demetri, Tory, Robby, and Devon.

The moon was shining, the neon lights illuminating your path to the ferris wheel.

Robby and Tory whisper as you, Demetri, and Devon follow. Tory turns around as you enter the line, a look of realization on her face.

"How do you guys wanna do groups? Only two people can ride in a cart, and there's five of us." The blonde speaks

"I can go alone," Devon replies rather quickly, "You two should be together," She refers to Tory and Robby. "I'd rather go alone, I like sitting right in the middle," She shrugs, trying to write off the fact she was also in on trying to get you and Demetri together.

"Oh, uh, okay" Demetri shrugs

Tory and Robby nod, and as you realize they're staring at you to do the same, you do.

After a long wait, you hop into the cart with Demetri, awkwardly awaiting for the ride to properly begin. He takes notice of your awkwardness, unable to talk or start conversation, finding it a little confusing. He writes it out as you're probably just tired and hungry.

"So, did you see that new episode of The Mandalorian?" He asks

You shake your head. "Not yet"

You're both silent until you reach the top, your eyes gazing upon the whole lit up fairground.

"Wow, isn't that cool?"

You nod, deciding to just get it over with because you'll be able to escape within the next two minutes. You look back at Tory and Robby, nodding their heads, giving you a thumbs up.

"Demetri, I have something to tell you,"

He looks at you, a bit of worry on his face. "What's up?"

"I like you."

You felt like the whole world was crumbling beneath you, your heart dropping as you spoke. You scan his face, waiting for something, anything. Rejection would've been better than this silence.

In an act you weren't expecting, he places his hands on your cheeks and quickly kisses you, the audible cheers of Tory and Robby behind you like the music to your slow dance. Devon looks up on the curve, also seeing your lips smashed together. She smiles, leaning back in the cart as she takes in the faltering view.

"Y/n and Demetri just kissed!" Tory shouts down to Devon while your faces heat up.

"I saw!"

[itacats]

Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, kidnapping/abduction, obsessive behaviors, losing job/home, mentions of feeling like a burden, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: The scars of the night are hard to shake, lingering in silence and shadows. Back in the safe confines of HQ, every moment feels like an echo of something far darker. But the team is determined—you won’t face the aftershocks alone.

Read Part 1 Read Part 2 Read Part 3 Read Part 4 Read Part 5 Read Part 6 Read Part 7 Read Part 9 Read Part 10

Part 8: Life After

The days following your rescue had passed in a blur, a whirlwind of emotions and fragmented memories that you could barely piece together. You hadn’t returned to the bar right away—not because you didn’t want to, but because something inside you hadn’t quite settled. The fear still clung to your skin like a second shadow, and the comfort of the team’s protection was the only thing that kept you from slipping back into that darkness.

But eventually, you felt the need to reconnect with the world you had left behind. To reclaim some part of the life you had before Devon had torn it away. So, with a shaky resolve, you made your way back to the bar where you’d spent countless hours working, laughing with patrons, and sharing moments of normalcy. It had once been a place of routine, a second home of sorts. But when you pushed open the door that day, the sense of familiarity evaporated almost instantly.

The usual faces behind the counter were nowhere to be seen, and the buzz of conversation didn’t feel the same. When you finally caught the attention of your boss—a gruff man who had never been one for small talk—you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, things could slip back to how they were. But the moment he saw you, his expression was cold, indifferent, as if the events that had shattered your life had barely registered on his radar.

“We’ve terminated your employment,” he said bluntly, without so much as a pause for pleasantries. His eyes barely met yours, as if he couldn’t be bothered with explanations.

For a second, you didn’t comprehend the words. It felt like another blow, sudden and jarring. “What? Why?”

“Too many no-call no-shows,” he continued, his tone sharp, almost annoyed. “Can’t run a business with staff disappearing whenever they feel like it.”

You tried to speak, tried to explain, but the words caught in your throat. What could you even say? He didn’t know about Devon, about the terror you’d endured. And even if he did, would it matter? To him, you were just another name on a schedule, another person failing to show up.

The conversation ended as abruptly as it had started. He turned away, moving on to some task behind the bar, already indifferent to your presence. It felt like the last thread of normalcy in your life had just been severed. Defeated, you left the bar, the weight of rejection pressing heavily on your chest as you stepped back into the cold, uncaring city streets.

But fate had more in store for you that day.

As you approached your apartment, that familiar sinking feeling deepened. The building looked the same, but something was off. It wasn’t until you climbed the stairs and saw it—the eviction notice taped to your door—that the full force of reality hit you. The paper fluttered slightly in the breeze, a cruel reminder of everything you had lost.

Your landlord had always been a hard man, but you hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t been gone that long, had you? But to him, it didn’t matter. Rent hadn’t been paid, and in his eyes, that was the end of the story. There was no second chance, no understanding, no room for compassion. You stood there in the dim hallway, staring at the notice, your mind reeling. The world had moved on without you—your job, your home, everything you’d taken for granted. It was all slipping away, like sand through your fingers.

You weren’t even sure how you made it back to the team. The walk to their headquarters was a blur, the weight of your situation bearing down on you with every step. By the time you arrived, the exhaustion—emotional and physical—was nearly overwhelming. You hadn’t intended to tell them everything, but the moment you saw their faces, the floodgates opened.

The words spilled out in a rush. The bar, the eviction notice, the hopelessness that had wrapped itself around you like a suffocating blanket. You felt vulnerable, exposed, as if the last pieces of your life had shattered in front of them.

But instead of judgment or pity, their faces softened with compassion. Price, who had always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders with steady grace, was the first to speak. His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge of determination in it. “Come stay with us,” he said firmly, as though the solution had been obvious to him all along. “We’ll help you get back on your feet.”

Gaz nodded immediately, his eyes filled with empathy. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’re a team, and you’re a part of it whether you realize that or not.”

Even Soap, who normally masked his emotions behind humor and bravado, stood beside you quietly, his hand resting on your shoulder in silent support. He didn’t say much, but the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know—he had your back, no matter what.

Ghost, always the quiet sentinel, lingered in the background. His mask hid his expression, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze, the silent promise that no harm would come to you while he was around. His presence alone was enough to steady you.

For a moment, you hesitated. The thought of burdening them, of being in need of rescuing again, didn’t sit right. But as you looked around at these people you realized that they weren’t offering out of obligation. They were offering because they cared. Because after everything, you were one of them. And they wouldn’t let you fall.

“You’ve been through enough,” Price continued, his tone softening. “Let us help you.”

The weight of his words broke something inside you—not in a painful way, but in a way that allowed you to finally breathe again. It wasn’t just the offer of a place to stay. It was the realization that despite everything that had happened, you weren’t alone. You had a team. You had a family. And together, you’d find a way to rebuild what had been lost.

With a quiet nod, you accepted the offer. The relief that flooded through you was overwhelming. For the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of hope. The future was uncertain, and the path ahead would be difficult, but you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

As you left HQ that night, surrounded by your team, you realized that life hadn’t spiraled out of control. It had just taken a detour. And now, with their help, you were ready to take the first steps toward reclaiming your freedom—not just from Devon, but from the chaos that had threatened to consume you. 

You were ready to rebuild. Together.

Read Part 9

Surrounded by those who fought to bring you home, the shadows finally start to recede. The road to peace will be long, but with each step, the weight lightens, and the fear loses its grip. Together, you close the chapter on one nightmare, knowing that no matter what lies ahead, you won’t be facing it alone.

Only 2 more part left in this series, but not to worry! More things to come!

Tag List:

@strawberryrnilk

@rafaelacallinybbay

Let me know if you would like to be added to the list lovely!

[itacats]

Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, kidnapping/abduction, obsessive behaviors, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: In a decaying warehouse, you find yourself trapped and terrified as Devon’s obsession spirals into madness. In this gripping installment, the line between sanity and madness blurs as you fight for survival against a relentless fate.

Read Part 1 Read Part 2 Read Part 3 Read Part 5 Read Part 6 Read Part 7 Read Part 8 Read Part 9 Read Part 10

Part 4: Clues Unseen

The warehouse was a cavernous, decaying relic from another time. Its vast interior was cloaked in darkness, interrupted only by beams of pale moonlight filtering through shattered windows high above. Dust hung thick in the air, stirring with each of Devon’s agitated steps. His boots scraped across the cold concrete, the sound echoing in the silence like a death knell.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat loud in your ears as you huddled in a corner, knees drawn tightly to your chest. The damp chill of the floor seeped through your clothes, but the terror gripping you from within was far colder. The flickering remnants of a single, exposed bulb swung lazily overhead, casting jagged shadows that stretched and twisted like the bars of a prison.

Devon, the man you had once passed without a second glance at the bar, now stalked the space between the walls of your captivity. His face was gaunt, haunted by an obsession you hadn't seen—couldn’t have seen—until it was too late. He muttered to himself as he paced, his voice rising and falling like the tide, but each word slithered into your skin, wrapping tighter and tighter around your fear.

"You’ll see," he hissed, his eyes wild as they flicked toward you, though you avoided his gaze. "They don’t care like I do. None of them do." His hand jerked in a wide, erratic gesture toward the empty space, as if your friends were there, as if their absence confirmed everything he believed. "You and I are meant to be together!"

His voice cracked on the last word, a twisted mix of pleading and menace. It was the sound of someone who had long ago slipped past the edge of sanity, and now, only desperation remained. He stopped pacing, his breath coming in shallow bursts, his eyes narrowing as he stared at you.

Curled up in the corner, your body trembled uncontrollably. The taste of salt stung your lips as bitter tears slid down your cheeks, but you made no effort to wipe them away. You were too afraid to move, too terrified that even the slightest motion would provoke him, shatter the thin barrier between you and whatever madness lay inside him. 

Your thoughts spiraled, clinging to anything that could pull you out of this nightmare. The sounds of the bar, the low murmur of voices, the clinking of glasses, and the warmth of laughter played in your mind. You could almost hear it, the echoes of your life before this nightmare, of safety. Soap cracking another joke at Ghost's expense, Price offering his gruff words of wisdom, Gaz shooting you a knowing grin from across the bar. They were so close, just on the other side of this living nightmare. 

But now, there was only Devon, and his delusions.

"You don’t get it, do you?" His voice dropped to a whisper, almost tender, as he moved closer, crouching in front of you. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your arm, and you flinched, shrinking away from his touch. His eyes darkened at that, and his grip tightened, bruising. "You’ll learn. I’ll make you understand. I’m all you need. No one else will come for you."

His words sent fresh waves of panic through you, the reality of your situation crashing down like a tidal wave. You were alone in this rotting tomb he trapped you in, far from the safety of your world, and the people you had relied on—people who might not even know you were gone yet. You closed your eyes, desperately trying to block out Devon’s face, his voice, the reality that was becoming harder to escape.

Meanwhile, outside, the world moved on. But for you, time had warped into an endless loop of fear and survival.

Devon rose to his feet, satisfied, for now, that his twisted words had sunk in. He resumed his pacing, mumbling to himself about destiny, about fate, while your mind raced in circles, searching for some escape, any escape. 

Every creak in the warehouse felt like a scream in your ears. Every shuffle of his boots across the floor was a reminder that no matter how far gone Devon was, he was real. The iron door that sealed you inside this forgotten place was real. The chains that bound you here, though invisible, were real.

You couldn’t stop the tears now. You couldn’t stop the fear that kept you frozen in place. All you could do was hope—hope that somewhere out there, someone had noticed you were missing. Hope that your friends, the ones who had become your family, had already begun to search. 

And somewhere, deep down, hope that they were close enough to save you before it was too late.

Read Part 5

In the tense atmosphere of the 141’s HQ, determination ignites as Ghost uncovers a vital clue about your captor. With every second ticking away, the team gears up for a relentless search through the city’s shadows, driven by a promise to bring you home. As they navigate a web of danger and deception, will they uncover the truth in time, or will the darkness consume you both?

Tag List:

@strawberryrnilk

@rafaelacallinybbay

Let me know if you would like to be added to the list lovely!

[itacats]

Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, kidnapping/abduction, obsessive behaviors, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: The echoes of the final struggle fade, leaving only the hollow stillness of the empty warehouse. Shadows cling to the corners, but amid the wreckage and rusted metal, a quiet relief settles over you and the team who fought through hell to bring you back. In this eerie calm, freedom feels fragile, like a fleeting breath. But the journey is far from over—every step forward holds the weight of unanswered questions and scars that run deeper than any mission.

Read Part 1 Read Part 2 Read Part 3 Read Part 4 Read Part 5 Read Part 6 Read Part 8 Read Part 9 Read Part 10

Part 7: Freedom

The warehouse was silent now, save for the soft rustling of boots on cracked concrete and the distant hum of the city far beyond its rusting walls. The fight, the terror, the suffocating weight of fear—all of it had passed like a storm, leaving behind a stillness that was almost too quiet, too fragile. But it was over. Devon lay unconscious on the cold ground, his twisted plans brought to a violent, unceremonious end. And you, at last, were free.

Your body, trembling from exhaustion and shock, barely registered the shift in the air as the team gathered around you. Soap was the first to reach you. His arms wrapped around you with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the night’s events. His hold was firm, grounding you in the present, while his voice—a low, steady whisper—was like a lifeline, pulling you back from the depths of fear that had gripped you not long ago. 

“You’re safe now,” he murmured, brushing some stray hair from your face. His fingers lingered just for a moment, their warmth a gentle reminder that you were no longer alone in the dark with that monster. The softness in his voice, the way he held you as if you were something precious, something irreplaceable, made your breath catch in your throat. He wasn’t just saying the words to reassure you—he meant them with every fiber of his being.

Behind Soap, Ghost stood, his dark, looming figure a stark contrast to the moment of calm. Yet something about his presence felt different now. He was still the same Ghost—silent, masked, unreadable—but there was a shift in the air around him. The weight of his watchful gaze was no longer cold or detached; it was protective, fierce, like a shield cast over you. His eyes, though hidden, seemed to burn with a quiet rage that had yet to fully fade. His anger was not at you but at the world for letting this happen—for letting you slip through their fingers and into the hands of a madman.

Price and Gaz stood a little farther back, exchanging glances that spoke volumes. There was relief in their eyes, a weight lifted from their shoulders now that you were safe, but also the residual tension of what could have been. They’d been in tight spots before—missions where things could’ve gone south—but this was different. This wasn’t just about a successful extraction or taking down a threat. It was about you. Someone they cared about, someone who had become part of their world. And for a moment, the unspoken fear of losing you lingered in the air between them, just beneath the surface.

Price was the first to break the silence, his voice steady but tinged with the weariness of a commander who had seen too many battles, both on the field and off. “We got ‘em,” he said simply, nodding toward Devon’s unconscious form on the ground. His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was a deep sense of finality in it. It was over. The threat had been neutralized, and you were safe.

Gaz gave a small nod in agreement, his usual humor absent but replaced by something just as powerful—reassurance. “You’re alright now,” he added quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of lingering distress. He knew you’d been through hell, and though you were standing here, alive and breathing, he understood that the scars wouldn’t heal so easily. But for now, just knowing you were safe was enough.

As Soap pulled back slightly, giving you space but not letting go entirely, you could feel the weight of your captivity starting to lift from your shoulders. It was like emerging from a deep, suffocating fog, the air finally clear and breathable again. But with that clarity came the flood of emotions you’d kept buried—fear, exhaustion, relief, and something else, something raw and overwhelming.

Your eyes flickered from Soap to Ghost, to Price and Gaz, and back again. These men had risked everything to bring you home. The enormity of it hit you all at once, and for the first time since the nightmare had begun, the tears flowed freely. Not out of fear, but out of gratitude. Out of the sheer relief that you were here, alive, with them.

Ghost took a step closer, his gloved hand resting briefly on your shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort. He didn’t need to say anything—his presence, the unspoken bond between you, was enough. There was no judgment in his eyes, no expectation of strength. Only understanding. He knew the demons you’d be facing long after this night was over, and he’d stand with you through every battle, just as he had tonight.

Price gave a final glance around the warehouse, his instincts still sharp, even in moments of calm. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, his tone softening as he turned back to the group. “We’ll debrief later. Right now, we need to get them home.”

Home.

The word hung in the air, filling the empty warehouse with a sense of closure. It wasn’t just a place; it was a promise. A promise that no matter what had happened, no matter how close you had come to losing everything, there was still a place for you in their world. A place where you were safe, where you belonged.

As they guided you toward the exit of the warehouse, Soap’s arm was still protectively around your shoulders, you took one last glance at the warehouse. The shadows that had once seemed so overwhelming now felt distant, like echoes of a nightmare that had finally come to an end.

The night was still heavy with fog as you stepped outside, but the air was crisp, cool, refreshing against your skin. Each breath you took felt like a gift, a reminder that you had survived. And with each step you took, flanked by the people who had fought to bring you back, the weight of the past began to fade, replaced by something new. Something stronger.

Freedom.

Read Part 8

As you step out of the darkened warehouse and into the fog, each breath feels like a rebirth. The ghosts of the night cling to your skin, but the team's presence is a steady force at your side, anchoring you to the present. Freedom is yours, yet the haunting memories refuse to fade. And though tonight has ended, you know some battles remain unfinished.

Tag List:

@strawberryrnilk

@rafaelacallinybbay

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[itacats]

Operation 141: The Family Business

FT: TF141 x gn!reader - Mafia AU

Warnings: mafia themes, kidnapping/abduction, obsessive behaviors, beat down, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

A/N: In the depths of your captivity, the team crept closer to the man who’d taken everything from them. The air crackled with tension; each silent step brought them nearer to a final reckoning. This was more than a rescue—it was payback. And tonight, Ghost would make sure he felt every second of it.

Read Part 1 Read Part 2 Read Part 3 Read Part 4 Read Part 5 Read Part 7 Read Part 8 Read Part 9 Read Part 10

Part 6: Showdown

The night was suffocatingly still, as if the city itself was holding its breath, waiting for what was about to unfold. The outskirts were desolate, a wasteland of forgotten industrial buildings and crumbling warehouses, cast in the eerie glow of distant streetlights. Ghost led the team through the shadows, every step precise, silent, as they closed in on their target: the man who had taken you.

The warehouse loomed ahead, a massive structure of rusting metal and shattered windows. It was a tomb of memories—abandoned, decayed, yet now the epicenter of a tension so thick it felt like the air itself might shatter. Ghost's voice cut through the silence like a blade, his whisper low and controlled. "Stay sharp. This guy might be desperate enough to do anything. We move in silently."

Soap, Gaz, and Price exchanged tense nods. There was no room for error. Desperation made people dangerous, and this man—Devon—had proven just how far he was willing to go. But Ghost’s focus was unbreakable. This mission wasn’t just tactical; it was personal. He had failed to see the threat before, and now, standing on the precipice of this showdown, he wasn’t about to let you slip away again.

With each step, the tension climbed. The warehouse’s rotting metal door creaked as it swung open, but inside, the silence was almost unbearable. The team moved like shadows, their training kicking in as they fanned out and took their positions. Every corner, every potential line of sight was calculated. Soap crouched low, inching toward the center while Gaz held to the right, eyes scanning for movement. Price hung back, his weapon ready, overseeing the operation with the steady calm that had seen them through a thousand dangerous missions.

In the middle of the room, Devon stood with his back to them, staring at the cracked wall as if it held the answers to the madness that had consumed him. His mind was scattered, and his movements erratic as he paced from the wall to you and back. His body language was rigid, tense, like a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap. He hadn’t heard them yet—hadn’t sensed the wolves closing in on him.

But you had. 

Curled up in the corner of the room, battered by fear and exhaustion, you saw them first—your saving grace. For the briefest moment, a flicker of hope ignited in your chest, but then the terror clawed its way back, fierce and unrelenting. The sight of them was too much, and the cry that erupted from your lips shattered the tense stillness like a gunshot.

"Get away from me!" you screamed, your voice raw, filled with the anguish of days almost weeks spent in captivity, the fear of never being found.

Devon spun around, eyes wild with rage and panic. The mask of control he’d worn for so long crumbled in an instant as he realized what was happening. But it was too late.

Before he could react, Ghost was already in motion. The world around him blurred, reduced to the singular focus of stopping the man who had caused you so much pain. His boots pounded against the concrete floor as he charged forward, eyes blazing with an icy fury. In one swift, brutal motion, Ghost tackled Devon to the ground, their bodies crashing onto the cold, hard floor with a sickening thud.

“You’ve touched them one too many times,” Ghost growled, his voice low and lethal, barely human beneath the mask of rage. His fists were already flying, driven by a cold fury that had been simmering for days. This wasn’t just another mission—it was retribution.

The warehouse exploded into chaos. The sounds of struggle filled the air—grunts, the dull thud of fists connecting with flesh, the scuffle of boots against concrete. Devon fought back with the desperation of a man cornered, but he was no match for Ghost, whose anger was pure, unrelenting. Each punch landed with precision, fueled by the knowledge of what you had endured, by the guilt of not stopping it sooner.

Nearby, Price and Gaz moved quickly, their focus shifting to you. They flanked Soap as he reached your side, blocking out the violence that played out in the background. Soap’s hands were gentle, but his voice was firm, steady—reassuring. “You’re safe now. We’ve got you.” He crouched down, pulling you to your feet, his presence a solid anchor against the storm still raging only feet away from you.

Gaz positioned himself between you and the fight, his eyes constantly scanning the room for any further threats. He could hear Ghost’s fists connecting with Devon’s body, and could feel the weight of Ghost’s fury in every blow. But his focus remained on you, shielding you from the brutal reality unfolding behind him.

Price stood nearby, his eyes flicking between the chaos and the door. He knew Ghost needed to finish this. He also knew there was no going back once this line was crossed. But Ghost had earned this—had earned the right to deliver the justice Devon deserved. And Price would make sure nothing stopped him.

Ghost, now fully immersed in his fury, tightened his grip around Devon’s collar, hauling him up from the floor before slamming him back down with a force that echoed through the empty warehouse. Devon’s gasps for breath were ragged, his eyes wide with a mix of terror and confusion. Ghost leaned in close, his breath hot against Devon’s ear, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You think you can take one of our people and get away with it? Not in this lifetime.”

With one final, savage punch, Ghost knocked Devon out cold, leaving him sprawled on the floor, unconscious and broken. The warehouse fell silent again, the sounds of battle fading into the void.

Ghost stood over Devon’s crumpled form, his chest heaving with adrenaline and rage, but his eyes slowly softened as he looked toward you. His team had you now. You were safe.

Soap helped you steady yourself as you stumbled forward, your body weak from days of fear and captivity. Being subjected to Devon’s madness drained everything in you from the moment he ripped you away from the world. Your eyes met Ghost’s through the haze of tears and exhaustion, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to believe it was over. 

The nightmare had ended. You had been found.

Read Part 7

The quiet settled like dust in the warehouse, thick and heavy after the storm of violence and fear. Shadows loomed around you, and yet, in their midst, familiar figures emerged, steady and unwavering. Stay tuned for the next part of the series, you won't want to miss it!

Tag List:

@strawberryrnilk

@rafaelacallinybbay

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[devonsbuckethat]

“A kiss for your thoughts?”

Devon x gn!reader

cw: fluff, lots of fluff

The daisy mart was nearing its closing hours, some kids lingered around for a bit talking amongst themselves. It was pretty calm around there, no loud distractions, no nothing.

Or well that was until a woman and her daughter came in

‘Ding dong’

The chime of the entrance doors played as the woman speed-walked her way up to the boy behind the register as she immediately pointed towards him. “You!” the boy fell back into his chair as he lazily stared back at the mother's finger.

“What have you done to my mei mei?!”

“Uh…who?” the boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as to what was being said right now.

That was until a curly haired boy spoke up showing where this “mei mei” actually was “Meilin Lee right here!” as he pointed, the dreaded look on her face could’ve made anyone cringe a bit.

“I should report you to the police! How old are you?!”

“Uh…17” he didn’t even flinch or anything when he heard her threat, the same calm, yet confused look plastered all over his face. At this point, the kids who were talking with each other began to huddle around the 2.

“Oh! See, this is what happens when you don’t wear sunblock and do drugs all day! She’s just a sweet innocent child, how dare you take advantage of her.” She brushed off her green coat as she pulled out some papers from the inside pocket.

“Mom! No!” The black haired girl screamed as she tried to stop her mother from revealing the papers, which showed drawings no one would want to see. The kids in the shop all gasped at what was revealed as they surrounded the now in shock boy.

“What?!”

The whole shop began to erupt in laughter after what was just shown, mei had bright pink cheeks as so many people were laughing at her, but what was even worse was seeing the boy holding the papers give her a direct stare as he cringed from what he was seeing. She just wanted to run away and never look back after the scene that just played out.

“The daisy mart has lost a loyal customer!” The woman said before turning around pushing her and her daughter out of the store, the boy casually took the papers and threw them in the trash as he sat back down and just let his head hit the front counter, not wanting to deal with what just happened.

Eventually he lifted his head back up and saw some people leaving, “finally…” he muttered under his breath. The rest finally left as he packed up and closed for the night, he pulled his phone out and opened up his messages as the top contact said

loml 🖤

“babe you awake?”

A few seconds passed as a text bubble appeared indicating to him that they were typing

“just watching television waiting for you <3”

His face lit up with a soft smile as his walk back to his apartment came to an end when he put his key into the lock and opened up to a dark house with only some dim lights in the kitchen and television illuminated the room. Y/n turned from under the blanket on the couch to their boyfriend walking inside, rubbing his face with one hand, trying to stay awake.

Y/n pulled the blanket off as they got up to stretch their body while walking to their boyfriend, “long day, Dev?” Devon hummed an affirming tune to let them know they were correct, y/n pulled Devon into a hug and began to sway back and forth.

Devon wrapped his arms around them melting into their touch, “thanks for this” he said, y/n feeling his grin grow as he rested his head in their neck, they moved their head to look at his face “a kiss for your thoughts?” y/n spoke as Devon smiled as he grabbed their hand and intertwine one another’s fingers before giving them a delicate kiss.

The two walked to the couch and laid their heads on each other before Devon finally spoke up, “some crazy lady accused me of harassing her daughter or something” y/n’s eyes furrowed in confusion, “why?” “Her kid drew me? I was pretty freaked out, you had to have been there, honestly.”

Y/n slightly tugged Devon towards the couch as they carefully took his bucket hat off and placed it on the table in the middle of the room. “Well too bad for that girl because I got to you just a little faster than her” they said pulling on his waist bringing him closer.

Devon lifted his head off of y/n’s shoulder to give them a quick look with a soft yet tired grin on his face before he gave a soft kiss to y/n. And a few soft kisses started turning into longer, rougher kisses, which ended when the two were regaining all the air they didn’t breathe in the whole time.

Devon was on top of y/n at this point while y/n had their arms wrapped around his body, Devon’s head laying in the crook of y/n’s neck as he rested while the two cuddled on the couch passing out together almost immediately.