#his competitive side (especially toward sound) worked for good there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

danibee33 · 11 months ago

Text

hostage

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (goes by “Saint”)

based on a post by @call-me-doll-face! your vision for this song (“hostage” by Billie Eilish) was just too perfect😭 I couldn’t get it out of my head. I hope you love it as much as I do.

tags: angst & smut, ok it’s very angsty, did I cry? yes

word count: 5.7k (sry I got carried away)

+++

The files strewn across your desk only come back into focus at the sound of three crisp, concise knocks on your door. You blink away the dryness, eyes darting toward the open window to see its pitch dark outside now- shit.

Two more knocks resound through the room, they're a little more forceful this time, urging you to push away from the organized chaos, crossing the short span on tingling feet. You hadn’t meant to lose track of time like that, but after the debrief you needed something to distract you, get your mind off the bitter taste the meeting had left in your mouth-

“Target’s in the wind after the attack in Yemen-”

You change the map, zooming in on a tiny Bedouin village- the settlement no more than a speck in the vast desert, “But we’ve intercepted and translated some chatter from local law enforcement that are on Abaza’s payroll.” – the room goes dark for half a second before the next slide flashes on the screen- “Seems he’s following his pattern of hiding behind civilians.”

The room is silent, save for the rapid clicking of Soap’s pen against the desk- one of the restless man’s many tics, and Price’s furious scribbling. Gaz is eyeing the map studiously, his lips twitching as he muses through the routes and planning- no doubt trying to predict what the Captain will do.

Ghost is just.. Looming. Perched in his usual corner, arms crossed over his chest as he contemplates the information and intel given, eyes lazy and half-lidded even when Price stands, coming to stand at your side.

“Bloody good work, Saint.”

He pats your shoulder, taking over your spot as you settle in a seat at the table, and you try to listen intently- short-handing a few notes you might have missed as the Captain dives into the plan. The others pitch in ideas along the way, logistics and safety for the civilian population; but, it was extraction that gave you pause.

“There will be no cover- that encampment is too exposed.” You only realize you had spoken the thought out loud when you hear a soft huff from behind you,

“Very perceptive, Sec.” Ghost grumbles, his usual sarcasm somehow thicker, more exasperated.

Could you have held back your overly dramatic eye roll? Of course. But it’s fucking Ghost, and all you can hope is that he sees it- just like you know he sees your middle finger held up over your shoulder.

He knows you hated the way he ignored your call sign in favor of using the belittling, diminutive of your rank instead. It’s always been ‘Sec’ for him, short for Second Lieutenant, never one to let you, or anyone else, forget that he outranks you-

But, you’re used to it. That’s just the relationship you and him have had from the start, always this brutally competitive tension between you- which never made sense to anyone else. Especially considering your specialities are on opposite ends of the spectrum, each of you serving your own unique role to make the team function and perform like the well-oiled machine it’s been honed into.

And, to be honest, you’re not sure why you ever let him get under your skin either. You’ve worked with plenty of egotistical superiors and subordinates alike, and it’s never stopped you from reaching and surpassing every single goal you set for yourself. If anything, it’s only pushed you to work that much harder- usually at the cost of any sort of personal life, which is actually how you got your callsign-

“Saint” - ‘the only officer in the SAS who might make it to heaven’

You thought it was silly, but over the years it grew on you. And now, it just feels like what your name has always been, even if everyone knows you rarely make it far in the military by being an actual saint-

“Yes, extraction will be the most difficult part-”

Price’s voice brings you back to the present moment, head snapping up when you sense the giant presence standing next to your chair, “It’s a two-person job, then?”

Ghost’s voice has lost all its amusement and sarcasm, and his gaze feels heavier somehow as he looks over the screen. You watch him for a moment, catching all the nuances in his outward body language that are so imperceptible to others- though, you sometimes wish you weren’t so in tune with him. Wish you didn’t know exactly why you could pick up on these things when no one else could..

“That’s what I was thinkin’-” Price nods, looking between his two sergeants, “Soap, you’ll be second, running interference with some well place distractions?”

You watch Johnny practically vibrate with excitement, shooting you and Ghost a wink,

“Ka-freakin’-boom, baby. You an’ me, LT. The dream team!”

But again, you notice Ghost’s lack of snarky response, verbally and non-verbally, it unnerves you-

“Saint, you’ll be with them-”

“No.”

It takes you a second to react, not sure if you had heard it correctly- maybe you had missed something and he had barked the word over another matter entirely. But then, you hear Gaz and Soap be dismissed, and suddenly you’re standing beside Ghost, you and Price speaking the same question at the same time,

“No?”

Ghost shrugs, refusing to look down at you, “Don’t need ‘er there, Boss. Nothin’ she can’t feed us over radio.”

“First, I’m right here- and second, you don’t get to decide what I can or can’t do-”

Price looks at you, his expression only hinting at confusion as he watches you cross your arms now, mirroring your lieutenant's posture, “Captain-”

Something flashes through the stormy blue of his eyes then, something you can’t even begin to place. But it doesn’t really matter, because you don’t get to finish your protests- cut off instead by an apologetic hum,

“He’s right, Saint-”

“What!?”

You’re not in the business of challenging authority, at least not the authority of a man you genuinely respect like John, but you can’t help it- this wasn’t the first time you’ve been benched, and you know it’s not the first time it’s been Ghost the one ordering it.

Price glances at his watch before scrubbing a hand over his face, “Bloody hell-”, he rounds up the files and tucks them under one arm, holding his mug with the other, “We’ll finish this later, clear?”

Just like that- he’s gone. And you’re left with the suffocating shadow still staring at the image on the wall,

“Don’t take it personally, Sec.”

Your hands clench and unclench, nails leaving stinging little crescents in your palm before turning on your heel, “Fuck you, Ghost.”

You know who’s on the other side of your door. You always do. It’s been your routine for the last year and half- You do have to give it to the insufferable fucking prick for coming to you so soon after what he had done, though.

But, sure enough, the door swings open and there he is. Simon Riley, towering in your doorway, covered head to toe in a black hoodie and dark jeans, his face even further obscured under the hood- all you can see clearly are his eyes. And they’re intensely focused on you.

“Don’t worry, Price called.” You say, leaning against the frame-

He gives you nothing, seconds ticking by as he stands there like a statue, slowly scanning your face like he’s done a thousand times before. It used to make you uncomfortable, how he would look at you that way, like he was peeling you open, layer by layer- and it still does, like now. But, you’ve gotten used to his idiosyncrasies, at times even find them oddly endearing, if he weren’t such a dick.

“Can I come in?”

A sigh fills the air between you, followed by you glaring up at him- you want to say ��no’, give him another big ‘fuck you’ middle finger and slam the door in his face; maybe even say fuck your arrangement all together, because now it’s becoming a pattern, him sidelining you.. But, you do none of those things. Because it’s him. Always fucking him.

So, you roll your eyes and turn back into the room, not bothering to invite him in because he knows the open door is your way of allowing it.

Instantly, your cozy abode feels ten times smaller and a hundred times warmer with him in it- it causes your skin to flush and your fingers to twitch, that restlessness you tend to feel when you were alone with him, crawling over you, burrowing itself in your chest.

“You’re mad.”

“Very perceptive, Ghost.” You throw his words from earlier back at him, crossing your arms because you honestly never knew what to do with your hands when you talked to him.

They always wanted to reach out for him- you were no better than Pavlov’s salivating dog when it comes to Simon fucking Riley. He had trained you so well without ever even having to try.

God, you hate him. And you hate yourself even more for know that’s not true in the slightest- “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doin’ what?” He shifts on his feet, fists still shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie.

You throw your hands up, “Benching me like this! There’s no reason I shouldn’t be on the ground with you and Soap, just like I usually am.”

“There’s no reason you should be, either.”

That awful itch creeps down your spine, tickling your legs and feet. The need to move, to exert some kind of energy before you implode forcing you to pace. You’ll never understand him, no matter how much time you spend together, or how many nights you waste sweaty and clinging to each other, words never meant for the waking world spoken between you- you will never understand him.

Never understand why he can’t just be hot or cold, why he can’t just be mean to you all the time, because at least that way it would be easier to separate what is, and what isn’t.

“You said this wouldn’t change things- I’ve held up my end of the deal. But you.. We can’t do this if you’re going to jeopardize my career.” Simon watches you just as intently as before, eyes tracking your war path back and forth, “I mean, I know we’re competitive and petty, but I didn’t think you would start fucking blacklisting me-”

That seems to catch his attention, head perking up, “That’s not what I’m doin’, Sec-”

“Well then enlighten me, lieutenant.” You spit back, eyebrows furrowing when you see him reach for you.

He gently tugs you closer, gloved hand wrapped around your forearm- closer and closer until you can feel that unbearable heat he exudes, smell the spice of his cologne, the one he only ever seems to wear when he comes to your room. Like he wants to lay claim to you somehow-

“Don’t..” The command comes out without even a hint of conviction, his finger tilting your chin back,

“I don’t want to talk, Saint. Please, not right now.”

It must be comical, how wide your eyes grow at the sound of your callsign in his gruff voice, the way he breathes the small plea- something you’ve never once heard him say. You just barely catch the way his eyes crinkle at the very corners in your stupor. The audacious bastard is smiling like he knows you would melt for it.

He knows you so well.

But the smile isn’t mean, it isn’t to spite you like he does sometimes- no, this feels warmer, like you could reach out and wrap yourself in it.

“Simon.. This isn’t good for us.”

“For us?”, he leans down then, the arm around your waist pulling you close enough to feel his covered lips on your neck, “Or for you?”

Your exhale feels labored and too heavy in your lungs, cursing yourself over and over for how effortless it is for him to unravel you. How just the feeling of his big hands splayed out over your ribs, slowly traveling up and down your body, makes your legs weak- and the heat of his breath condensating on your skin has the familiar pressure steadily growing low in your belly- begging for more.

When he pulls the mask off this time, you can’t help but notice the gentility in his expression. A certain relaxed nature about it that seems so out of place for him. Most of the time, when you would find each other at the end of the day, he would be frustrated or annoyed, or he would be carrying that familiar brand of apathy written all over his face.

Not that it never cracked, you’ve gotten the privilege of seeing him show softness, even if it’s in his own way. A playful wink here and there, a genuine smirk that would reach his eyes for a fleeting moment, or when you got to see the deep dimples on either cheek- the ones that give his features an almost boyishly handsome quality.

But right now, you swear he looks.. content.

And when he kisses you, it’s languid and sweet- the softer skin of his lips contrasting to the way his five o’ clock shadow scratches your chin and mouth. He kisses you like you have all the time in the world, like there’s no place he would rather be than right here, tangling his fingers in your hair- tasting your tongue as it dances around his.

It confuses you, because this is not how it’s supposed to go. There’s rarely ever time for such thoroughness, not that Simon wasn’t incredibly adept when it comes to giving pleasure- it just tended to be like a flashfire, like throwing a lit match into gasoline, volatile and explosive. That’s what you agreed on though, agreed to use each other- use your attraction merely as a means to an end. Blowing off steam. There’s no need to be soft and languid when you could just take the emotion out of it all together.

And that’s just how you’ve always assumed it is for him. You’ve never minded, not really- you were a smart woman, reasonable and logical, but.. You were still only human. Of course you craved that connection, the physical touch; you would never admit that you wanted him to hold you until you fell asleep afterwards, that you wanted to run your fingers through his hair, or memorize every delicious curve and vein and scar on his body-

No, that would mean you thought of him beyond sex, and that was very strictly forbidden.

He walks you backward, lips and hands never straying far as you take turns undressing the other- his shirt is on the ground first, giving you not nearly long enough to revel in the sight before yours is being lazily pulled over your head.

The backs of your knees hit the bed frame, which feels like a reprieve at this point with how utterly weak you feel in his arms; so, you let yourself sink into the foamy cushion, casting your eyes upward for only a second as you quickly work at his belt.

You’re forced to stop though, leaning back when he moves, crowding your space by bending over you on the bed and propping himself up with a massive arm on either side, his face close enough to graze his nose over yours, “You in a rush tonight, baby?”

Petulantly, you lift your chin- capturing his bottom lip between your teeth, you give it just enough of a bite to hear him hiss before laving the tender spot with your tongue. But before you can kiss him again, before you can pull him down on top of you, or your hands can make their way back to his buckle- he easily lifts you up, placing you further back on the bed.

“Simon, what are you doing?”

The question comes out more harsh than you were going for, but he’s not making any fucking sense, and you feel like a top wound too tight, overly conscious of the slick staining your underwear, and the ache in your core that only he can fix-

And maybe for a second, you see a flash of anger in his eyes, standing at his full height while you stare up at him,

“What does it look like we’re doin’, Sec?”

You huff out a incredulous laugh, scooting off the mattress- eyes searching the floor for your shirt, hell, anything to cover up with,

“Oh. Back to Sec, huh?”

Scrubbing a palm over his face, he watches you purposely not look his way, “Fuckin’ hell, do you always have to have it out with me? Can never just let it be-”

“Let it be?”, shirt be damned, you turn back to face him- “Let what be, exactly, Ghost? This is how it’s been for over a year. I mean, fuck, longer than that! You hated me, I hated you- it was perfect. We could fuck each other, and it meant nothing-”

“Past tense.”

He cuts you off, and you feel like you might actually throw something until your brain finally registers what he said,

“What?”

“You’re usin’ the past tense.. ‘Hated’, ’meant’.”

You shake you head, hands coming up before plopping limp at your side, “What the fuck are you on about?”

When he takes a step forward, you take one back, “Words are important, love..” – another step closer, another step away, “‘Hated’ implies that you did, but you don’t anymore.”

“What is this? A language arts lesson?” You try to bring back that anger, that bitterness, but the way he’s looking at you, the way his voice is lower, brassy and rich- it’s hard to feel anything other than him.

A wall halts you, your bare skin protesting against the cold, smooth surface. You wish it would swallow you whole. But, he gets closer, and you’re still there, once again looking up at him,

“I don’t hate you, Saint. I’ve never hated you..” The back of his finger carves a slow path over your cheek, his head tilting to the side, “You were right though, about this not bein’ good.. But not for us- for you.”

“Ghost- I..”

“I’m not good for you. Never have been- I came into this selfishly, thinkin’ that it would be easy, that you would be like all the rest, get tired of me when I wasn’t able to give.. enough. And then it would be over.”

You’re held rapt by his admission, hanging on to every syllable- because you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say so much at once. And certainly never imagined it would have to do with the way he feels about you, bad or otherwise.

“Why did you stay?”

It’s because you’re so lost in the novelty of him in this moment, that it takes an awkwardly long few seconds to realize that you need to actually answer the question-

“I stayed..” — you blink, fighting to make your racing thoughts make sense, “Because you never tried to trick me- or be anything other than what you are, Simon. It was- is, enough. You’re enough.”

His eyelids flutter, a deep, soothing sigh blowing through his nose as he turns away- almost composing himself, in a way, if you know him as well as you think you do,

“You never wanted anythin’ more?”

“No.” You say, and it’s not a lie, you could leave it there- but there’s just something in his eyes that’s begging for more- “Not at first.”

“But now?”

“What do you want me to say, Simon? Of course, I want more. It’s kind of hard not to when you’ve had what we have, had sex with a person, and only that person, for over a year-”

His eyes widen, pupils consuming the honeyed amber that surrounds them right before his lips catch yours in that bruising sort of kiss you know so, so well. It’s full of every single thing he can’t put words to. And for a moment, he nearly gets lost in it, that finely threaded tether on his control slipping further and further- control he’s never been good at reining in when it comes to you.

***

I whisper your name, letting the taste of it linger over my tongue as I try to pull away, try to prolong every second I can get- quietly pleading with you to just slow down. Because I know what comes after-

But the way you chase after my lips, your nails clawing at me, my skin burning under your touch- fucking hell.

You shouldn’t be here, should’ve never agreed to this, with me. You’re too good for someone so broken. You have so much life to live, and I hate that you’ve wasted even a moment of it caring for me- wanting me.

Hm.. Saint. How fucking perfect- because only a saint could bring a devil to his knees.

And that you did. With every lingering touch, and every sweet smile you gave me, everytime you moaned my name, I let you in deeper and deeper. Until I started to hate when you left, hated that I only felt whole when I had you in my arms-

No, I’m no good for you.

Because if I had it my way, I would want to hold you hostage here, right where you belong. Where the world couldn’t touch you, couldn’t hurt you.

I would want you to crawl inside my veins, live in my bones- like you don’t already own the terrible void that’s been in my chest for longer than I can remember.

Might as well take it all. It’s as good as yours anyway.

I love you. I can’t say it- that wouldn’t be fair to you. My love is tainted and ruined, a blasphemous and dangerous thing- it’s only ever killed those I’ve given it to. So, I won’t curse you with those words.

But I hope you can feel it.

“Simon.. Please-” You frame my face in your hands, tugging at my hair, “I want you.”

***

Hearing his name, or maybe it’s the traitorous desperation in your voice, urges him to act. A small squeak escapes when he lifts you up, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms looped over his neck,

“I’m yours.”

It stuns you, how fluid and thoughtless he says it, like it’s nothing, like he’s said it a hundred times before. Like he didn’t just tell you exactly what you had mindlessly dreamed of hearing from him for months now.

He doesn’t pause though, kissing you again, swallowing your thoughts in his lips- and time slows as your back sinks into the covers. The comfort of his weight settling over you, his hips nestled between your thighs. It’s all so much, too much and not enough at the same time; but you think you could stay here forever, pinned under him, be the object of his desire for as long as he wanted, have him tell you that he’s yours over and over-

The bed dips as he breaks away, working your button and zipper open with practiced movements-

“Lift up, baby.”

You lift your hips, helping him gently tug your cargo pants down before standing and stripping out of his own. And like so many times before, you can’t help but to very disrespectfully let your eyes rake over his bulky frame- your bottom lip trapped between your teeth,

“Jesus, Simon.. That’s not fair.”

“Not fair for who?” He coos, crawling over you again, pressing chaste kisses over your torso as he goes.

A sharp gasp echoes when he latches onto your nipple, his teeth grazing across the sensitive bud, the thrill of blissful pain simmering through you-

“It’s just not fair..” You whine, back arching as he does the same thing to your other, the wet skin cooling too quickly when you feel him chuckle.

“‘M sorry, lovie.”

He teases you for what feels like an eternity, having learned your body better than you know it yourself anymore- only Simon knows how to turn you into putty in his hands, make you soft and pliable, keening and whimpering, a teary eyed mess. And usually he never takes it so far, never ruins you so thoroughly before you’ve even had his cock- but tonight he does.

Tonight, he seems determined to map out every inch of you, even allowing you to do the same in small doses. He lets your fingertips trace over his scars, lets your lips kiss all the broken parts of him-

“Will you tell me about them one day?” You ask, the question muffled against his neck.

It’s an innocent inquiry, honest and genuine, but you don’t miss how he tenses above you before pulling away just enough to see your face. Maybe if you knew him better, had more time with him like this, you would be able to discern the anguish in his eyes- but you don’t see it. Even though you’ll remember it.. this particular moment, it will stick with you far beyond just tonight.

“One day.”

You aren’t sure why you don’t believe him.

All too quickly the thought is lost when you feel him readjust, leaning up on his knees- and your mouth waters at the view, how his chest heaves, already covered in a satiny sheen of sweat; how he strokes his length before looking down to watch how he sinks into you, how you take him so fucking perfectly-

Just like in everything else tonight, he moves at an achingly languid pace- thrusting forward inch by inch, and pulling out just as slow- reveling in the way your slick glistens, all for him.

“Simon..”, you reach for him, needing him close, needing more, “Mh.. Simon- please..”

He comes to you, lets you pull his face down to yours, “Please what, baby?”

When he pushes into you again, it takes your breath away, your muscles clenching as he drives right up against the fleshy wall of your cervix, “You want more?”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut until you feel him cradle your face, “Mm-mm, I want you to look at me, Saint.. Keep your eyes on me, yeah?”

Without another thought, you open them, your brows knitting together as you search his face. You expect to see something close to his usual bravado, maybe even a devious smirk, or a wolfish gleam; but it’s none of those things. His expression is one of longing and adoration- his demand wasn’t being made out of a desire to control you, he simply wants to see you.

He wants to be seen.

“Ok, Simon..”, you place your hand over his, turning into his palm to plant a kiss to the rough skin there, “On you.”

His next thrust is harder, causing your legs to tighten around him- and even when he finally gives in, driving into you faster and deeper, each time hitting that spot that has you clenching and whimpering, he still holds your face, still keeps his eyes steady on you- entranced at the way you fight to keep your own open for him.

“That’s it.. fuck-” He grunts, crushing his lips to yours, “My good girl.”

The praises he whispers next are far sweeter than anything he’s ever said before, punctuated and interrupted by his own breathless moans. His words and each building noise he gives only drives you toward your end- dragging him right along with it until you’re both falling over the edge.

And it’s your name he says as he spills deep inside you, your name said again like an answered prayer when you hug him closer- both of you holding onto the other like if you let go for even a second, you might drift away.

“I’ve got you..” You say it without really knowing why, but knowing that it feels right. Knowing that he has you, too. At least in this moment- and that’s enough. He’s enough.

How long you stay that way, you can’t be sure- long enough for your bodies to grow limp and the sweat on your skin to dry before he finally peels himself away. And you could cry from the abrupt absence of his warmth, his weight, him.

Thankfully, he’s back just as quick, a warm cloth in hand and a tender touch to clean you up- which isn’t new, Simon’s always taken the time for aftercare, but it’s never felt so.. intimate. He goes about it just as tenderly and thoroughly as he had causing the mess in the first place, his eyes never leaving your skin, lips pressing sweet kisses nearly every place he wipes.

It pulls at you, the pesky prickling of tears stinging your eyes again. Because you know there must be a reason for his stark change tonight- but, you just can’t bring yourself to break the moment by asking why.

He stays with you. It’s not an entirely spoken agreement, he doesn’t ask and you don’t suggest, but when he slips back into the covers with you, you certainly don’t complain. You let him pull you under his arm, smiling into his chest when he kisses the top of your head,

“Good night, Simon.”

You hear him take a deep breath, the muscles under your cheek relaxing as he exhales just as deep and long, “G’ night, Saint.”

***

Watery rays of sunlight wake you, the glow behind your eyelids rousing your mind enough to realize the spot beside you is vacant, the sheets long since cooled. It doesn’t bother you, not really, it’s just Simon. The only clues he left to prove last night wasn’t just some fucked up dream being his scent, still lingering so heavily on his pillow, and the blissful ache between your legs.

And you wish you could stay here, covered in the blankets, wrapped in his smell, reliving the vivid memories as they flash through your head- his words replaying on a loop in your ears.

I’m yours.

But your alarm has other plans, your chosen vocation entirely undeterred by your relationships woes and break-throughs. Just another day, right? You would see him at the morning debrief, and again for range training- nothing changes externally. But everything had changed on the inside, for you anyway.

Is it wrong to hope it had for him, too?

You go about your morning routine, joyfully unaware of the decisions made without your knowledge, of the actions taken and the consequences that would follow- you hum along to your music, the faintest smile tugging at your lips.

What a lovesick fucking fool you are.

It’s only when you’re reaching for your phone and keys from the desk that you see the piece of paper, carefully ripped from your own notepad and the silver metallic glint sticking out just beyond the corner.

You don’t recall the next seconds, or minutes- not really even the next hour. It all feels like that soft whooshing of TV static, endless and without form. And you find yourself begging for it to have been a dream, silently hoping that none of it really happened, that he hadn’t knocked on your door, that you hadn’t let him in.

That you hadn’t given him everything, and you hadn’t let him convince you he was yours.

Still stuck in that awful whooshing, you grip the piece of metal so hard you think the impression of his name might just brand itself into your palm, your boots stomping against the tile as you pass by all those familiar doors-

“What is this?”

Price looks up at you, and that dreadful nausea settles in the pit of your stomach when you see the resignation in his eyes.

“Saint-”

“When did they leave?”

“0400.”

They could already be there- Price wouldn’t let him do this.. Right?

“Recall them then, there’s still time. We’ll-”

He gives a long sigh, lips set into a thin line, “This might be our only shot, Saint. It’s not perfect, but there’s still a chance.”

***

There was never a chance.

Two weeks later, you stood on the tarmac- hair whipping violently in the wind as you watch the plane land. You stay there ,silently partaking in your own morbid, self-loathing vigil, still somehow hoping it isn’t true.

But there he is.

Simon Riley. His pine coffin draped with the flag he had fought for.

You watch Soap do his best, limping alongside it, his arms shaking and his eyes stained with tears. He gives you a hug afterward, whispering that he tried, he tried to bring everyone home.

You don’t blame him. Not for a second. You knew when you found Simon’s dog tag on your desk that he never intended on coming back. You knew when you read his neatly written note that you would never see him again. You would never hear his voice or feel his lips against yours. You would never get the chance to tell him that you were his, and that you always had been.

You didn’t know then, that a part of you always would be, didn’t know that he had left more behind than either of you could have imagined.

***

When the doorbell rings, you tear your eyes away from the now framed note. Flitting through the cozy flat with a smile growing on your face,

“Saint!” Gaz sweeps you into a bruising hug, your feet coming off the floor and a giggle erupting from your chest.

“I’m glad you all could make it.” You say a bit breathlessly once you're back on solid ground.

Price gives you a hug next, his beard tickling your cheek, “Wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart.”

“Aye, are ye kiddin’?” Johnny’s kiss lands just at the corner of your lips, his hold tighter, more familiar than the rest- “Miss our big lad’s first birthday? Never, bonnie.”

On cue, you turn at the sound of excited babbling to see the birthday boy in question, looking between the four of you. His copper brown eyes wide with curiosity, and a mess of honey blonde curls on his head.

I was so lucky to have had you..

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.

Your Simon.

+++

well, I’m ruined. and I hope you enjoyed it. I’m really not good at leaving angst too angsty, I’m too much of a hoe for silver linings and happy endings and all that fluffy sh*t.

forever just a lover girl at heart 🥲

#bee writes #this was too good how could I not #simon x reader #I’m so bad at angst #I’m just a soft girlie #call of duty #cod fandom #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish

86 notes · View notes

chapel-of-rizztual · 11 months ago

Note

Could you maybe do some more like your last fic with Phantom and Cumulus, please? Maybe Cumulus with Dew or Mounty?🫶🏻

I have one already here with Cumulus and Mountain that’s very similar, but if you’ve read that already here’s Dew and Lus because I love them two together <3

cw: non sexual intimacy, non sexual nipple sucking

Dew stomps onto the tour bus with a huff, slamming the door behind him. He was the last on, having taken a long hot shower after the show. It had been a bad show for him, his pedal stopped working several times, he’s missed more than one cue and messed up his solo in watcher in the sky.

He stomped down the corridor heading towards the back hoping that no one was there, hoping that everyone was to exhausted and tucked up in their on bunks. There were tears welling in his eyes but he blinks them away, desperately hoping to just get the back and shut the door in privacy so he can FaceTime Aether and let go fully.

“Oh.” He tries not to sound disappointed when he see Cumulus sat on the sofa, he really does, he loves Cumulus and she has every right to be there. But he so desperately needed to be alone right now.

He can feel his throat tightening with that first bite of a sob and he has to stop himself from stomping his foot like a child that’s just been told no.

“I’m sorry.” His voice catches in his throat and his eyes sting with new unshed tears. He clears his throat, hoping she hadn’t noticed. “I’ll leave you to be alone.”

He turns to leave just as his face crumbles and he hopes that the way his shoulders shake doesn’t give him away.

“Dew?” Cumulus’ voice is as sweet as honey and Dew has to slap a hand over his mouth to stop the sob that tries to escape. “Come here, baby.”

He shakes his head where he’s standing but makes no effort to move, stood completely still facing away from her.

“I can see you’re crying, there’s no point in hiding it.” She shuffles around on the sofa. “Common, come cuddle with me and I’l make you feel better.”

Normally Dew would have bitten at the slight innuendo, or better yet, he would have challenged her on it. But right now he turns around and rushes into her open arms. He lets her move him into her lap so his arms are around her waist and his head is resting on her chest.

He lets out a hiccuped sob as a buries his face into her chest. She rubs a comforting hand down his back, feeling his lungs expand when he takes a deep shuddering breath.

“That’s it, baby. Let it all out. I’ve got you, you’re safe.” She coos at him, running her hands through his still damp hair, untangling the knots. “My good boy, aren’t you? Did so well on stage today.”

Dew lets out another sob and shakes his head, digging his claws into her waist.

“No?” She questions, tucking a few stray hairs from his face behind his ear. “Why not, honey? Why do you think that?”

“B-bad.” Dew stutters out, turning his face to the side so his cheek is resting on her boob. “W-was a bad s-show.”

“Oh baby it was a hard show, not a bad show.” She wipes away the tears on his cheek with her thumb. “We all struggled. It was insanely hot and the crowd was crazy. We all made mistakes. I came in way too early on many songs, miasma especially. So did Mountain, he missed more than a few beats, and Swiss missed cues too. Even Papa forgot the lyrics to some songs.”

“But I m-messed up the most.” Dew sniffs, rubbing his cheek on her.

“My darling, it’s not a competition. It was a hard show and we all did the best we could.” She cards her fingers through his hair, letting the soft strands fall through her fingers. “You did good, my love. You did so good. Played through a very difficult show, and did so well.”

Dew sniffs and sits up, looking at her with wet teary eyes. “I did good?”

Cumulus hums and uses her thumb to brush away the few start tears on his cheeks. “You did so good, baby. You always do.”

Dew bites his lips and looks a little unsure but he nods nonetheless and settles his head back down onto her chest. “I did good”. He mutters, more to himself than to her.

They sit like that for a while, Cumulus keeps carding her fingers through Dews hair, occasionally scratching at his scalp, while he lets out contented sighs and leans more into her touch. It’s silent for so long she thinks he’s fallen asleep against her but he makes her jump when he sits up unexpectedly.

He looks shy, his eyes flitting around to avoid eye contact with her. “Can we…you know?” He shifts nervously, still avoiding looking directly at her. “Like we use to do before?” He voice is so quiet she can hardly tell what he said.

She tried to hide her surprise at his request but she can feel her eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah? You haven’t asked for that for a long time, darling.”

Dew deflates a little and Cumulus has to stop herself from cooing at his slight pout. “I know. It’s silly, I’m sorry. You don’t have to, just forget I asked.”

“It’s not silly, not at all.” She runs the back of her hand down his cheek, rubbing along his cheekbone with her thumb. “Do you want it like this or how we use to do it?”

A blush rises on Dews cheeks and he finally makes eye contact with her. “How we use to, please.” He whispers so shyly, like he’s scared she’ll actually hear him.

She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to, she just moves so she leaning back again the arm of sofa, making sure a pillow his behind her to support her back. She moves Dew so he’s lying across her lap, his head cradled in the crook of her arm and his legs curled up so they’re resting on her hip so he’s fully cradled in her lap. His tail comes up to wrap around her forearm, giving her a little squeeze.

“Are you comfy like this, baby?” She looks down at him to find him peering up her with already slightly clouded eyes. He nods, slow blinking at her.

She pulls her top up just enough to expose her chest, normally she would take it off fully but there’s cold chill to the air that makes her shiver. Dew dives straight in without a second warning, wrapping his lips around her nipple and sucking a little too hard and fast to be comfortable.

Cumulus hisses and flinches away. “Slowly, slowly baby.” She grabs his chin and pulls him away. “Gently. It’s not going anywhere.” She swipes at his lip wiping away the spit.

He gives her a nod, looking embarrassed and mumbles out,

“Sorry.”

She lets go of his chin, letting him lean forward and suck her nipple back into his mouth again. He struggles to latch on this time, making little wet sucking sounds each time he fails to create a seal and he lets out a whine, frowning up at her.

“Oh baby.” Cumulus can’t help giggle at the look his little face. “Are you struggling?” Dew frowns even more and whines again, fidgeting in her lap.

Cumulus giggles again at him, running her thumb over his cheek. “Let me help you, honey.”

She shifts Dew ever so slightly in her lap so his head his tilted back a little bit more. He latches on no problem, making a little contented sigh as he begins to suck a lot slower and more gently than last time.

“Thats it, just like that.” Cumulus runs her fingers through his hair one again, her other hand that’s cradling his thighs begins to rub small soothing circles. “Doing so good. My good boy, aren’t you?”

Dew lets out a rumbly purr, his hand coming up to knead at her other breast, something he always use to do when they did this. Cumulus thinks he doesn’t even know he does it and just acts on pure instinct. She leans down to press a kiss to his head, right between his horns, making his eyes flutter and his purr increase in volume.

He goes limp against her and Cumulus can feel all the worry and anxiety from the show drain from his body, leaving him a very sleepy fire ghoul tucked up in her lap. He lets out a soft thrill as he sucks at her nipple, pressing his face deeper into her boob to try get as much of her in his mouth as he can.

She laughs at him, running her thumb over his eyebrow to smooth down the hairs that likes to stick up. “Greedy boy. Always need more, don’t you.”

He blinks sleepily up at her with glazed over eyes and sucks a little harder to answer her question. His eyes begin to droop, but she knows him. She know that he won’t fall asleep like this. She know that he’s never one to waste a rare comforting moment like this and he’ll get his fill first before pulling off her to rest his head on her breast and fall asleep like that.

She kicks up a purr of her own to match Dews and lets herself enjoy having a quiet moment with the normally chaotic fire ghoul.

#ficlet #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #cumulus ghoulette #my writing

73 notes · View notes

airas-story · 1 year ago

Text

Got Your Back

“You know what,” Tony said, making a displeased face at the weird temple-thing that Stephen had brought them to. Stephen resisted telling him his face was going to get stuck that way. “This is not where I want to die.”

“We’re not going to die,” Stephen said, exasperated. “Though, even if we were, I promise you, I’ve died in worse places.”

Tony gave him one of those looks that made it clear that, while Tony loved him immeasurably, Stephen needed serious help.

Which sure, might be true, but Stephen was a very busy person. Sue him if getting help for his myriad of issues was not on his priority list.

No matter what Wong had to say about it. Wong could keep his opinions to himself.

“You really need to stop dying places,” Tony said bluntly. “Period. There’s no competition out there about who can die in the weirdest places or the most number of times. And if there were, I’m pretty sure you already won and are only competing with yourself at this point.”

Which, okay, might also be true. Didn’t mean Tony needed to point that out.

“I’ll work on it,” Stephen said noncommittally; it wasn’t his fault that there had been so many times when the best way to win involved dying. That and time loops were a thing that Stephen had made excellent use of.

He’d always been creative.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Tony said dryly. “It’s only your life on the line after all.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Stephen agreed. “So how about you leave me to worry about it. And if you’re worried about dying, then maybe you should sit this out.”

“You said that this was an Artificer’s Temple, and that you suspected they dabbled in mechanics,” Tony pointed out. “And that you might need a mechanic’s touch to disable any traps. So unless one of your fellow sorcerers has gone and gotten a PhD in engineering, I’m your best bet.”

He really was Stephen’s best bet, and Stephen knew it.

It was the only reason he was bringing Tony along anyways. He hated endangering Tony any more than he had to, especially since Tony was pretty much retired at this point—for now at least—his vision damaged in his right eye and his mechanical arm mostly untested. Though given that it had been a collaboration between Shuri and Tony, Stephen had no doubt that the arm was more than up for the task of anything Stephen could imagine.

Stephen focused back on the artificer temple that they had only discovered in their attempts to track Mordo. Ominous, he decided, would be a good description. The stone was pitch black and seemed to absorb the light around it, making the whole area feel dimmed and shadowed. It reeked of darkness that reminded Stephen of the dark dimension.

He glanced at Tony, reassuring himself that Tony was okay.

Tony must have felt his gaze, because he turned toward Stephen giving him a reassuring smile that only touched the left side of his face.

Burned or not, he was still the most beautiful, most precious man that Stephen had ever seen.

“Hey,” Tony reached out, taking his hand and giving it the softest of squeezes. “This is going to be fine. What’s a temple going to do, come alive and swallow us whole?”

Stephen groaned. “Thank you, Tony. You’ve now jinxed us. Because let’s face it, we both have the sort of luck that would include buildings trying to eat us.”

It was absolutely something that a talented enough artificer could pull off, that or a large enough group of artificers aimed at a larger purpose.

“Well, it would be an interesting way to go, at least,” Tony commented blithely. “So, what are we looking for anyways?” Tony asked, ignoring the comment about jinxing them. Tony was always good at ignoring things he didn’t want to acknowledge. It was almost impressive.

And no, Stephen wasn’t a hypocrite.

“Not sure,” Stephen admitted. “We just want to make sure that Mordo isn’t causing problems here.”

“Right. Your old mentor who decided it was time to steal the magic from everyone who doesn’t agree with him. Sounds like a great guy.”

Stephen flinched a little, there was still a part of him that felt a deep sting of betrayal at the thought of what Mordo was doing.

“That’s the one,” Stephen said, keeping his voice neutral. Tony winced and sent him an apologetic look. “Now let’s go, I don’t want to give him any more time to find ways to cause the rest of us problems than we have to.”

“After you, doc. I’ve got your back.”

Stephen smiled at him, this one genuine. “I know you do.”

#ironstrange #fic #tony stark #stephen strange

102 notes · View notes

lullabyalikpoptarot · 3 months ago

Text

Enhypen Dynamics (Sunoo's Perspective)

Alright, time to check on Sunoo's perspective here, so I am not surprised his cards are confusing and contradicting, as his energy tends to be this way, no shade, he is a Cancer, sorry for the Cancer's out there, but energy wise, I tend to get confusing messages from them. Let me try to decipher what this means. Anyway, this does not say all about their dynamic, just an insight to an aspect of it, and energies change, so it can be different any moment. Friendships/dynamics will always have its ups and downs.

Heeseung (Conjunction/4 of Pentacles)-Okay, so the first card of conjunction seems good, they seem like a united front right now from his perspective. They may be joining forces for something. I mean duh, they are in a group together, but specifically their energies seem to be working towards a similar goal. But man, the 4 of Pentacles is a possessive, protective energy. So many things I get from this, he protects this bond, finds it valuable, or he shuts him out, and keeps things to himself regarding the bond. It could be both, but I say the former sounds more like it, or he leans towards that more. Anyway, this dynamic is confusing at the moment, but there is a sense of possessiveness on both ends, saw it in Heeseung's perspective as well. Ya'll these two are something energy wise.

Jay (Venus/5 of Swords)-So, I see the Venus card and I am like aww, then the 5 of swords pops up and I am like wtf man lol Anway, they are close, there is a lot of love they have for another, but when you are close to someone, you will tend to have more fights and arguments. He may find Jay annoying at times, maybe a bit combative. He may have the strong need to be right that may annoy Sunoo at times, but overall, there is love here. You won't like everything about a person you are close with, especially around all the time.

Jake (Trine/Page of Pentacles)-I believe Jake also gave the trine card for Sunoo as well, so partnership wise they are cool, things are working smoothly with these two, it is a peaceful harmonious time for them. Now these cards don't really indicate a close bond. They work well together and get along. It seems they are both focusing on their work and craft right now. I never get much from these two sides, didn't get much from Jake's perspective either. It is like yeah, we cool, that's it lol Their dynamic isn't that complicated right now.

Sunghoon (Water/5 of Wands/Ace of Wands)-So, two cards decided to come out. I couldn't pick one, so went with the two, felt they both needed to come out, okay, this one seems complicated to, so the water card seemed pretty good, they are very compassionate towards each other, they understand each other intuitively, but I don't know, with the other two cards it gives me sometimes they clash and it can frustrate Sunoo at times, like sometimes he blows up at him, like he can have a short fuse with him. I can also see him as seeing Sunghoon as a very competitive and passionate person, which I do believe he likes in him. This was was a bit messy as well.

Jungwon (House 6/10 of Swords)-Okay, this is interesting. House 6 is about mundane task, tending to health and practical details, that doesn't share much about a bond. Health may be a focus for both of them, maybe they look to each other for that, or maybe he thinks Jungwon should be more health conscious. 10 of Swords in this deck is about releasing negative thoughts, moving past a difficult situation. Maybe they are both trying to work through that, or he is helping Jungwon deal with that. This was weird to decipher, tried my best here.

Ni-Ki (House 4/The Magician)-Bruh, all these members really love Ni-ki's talent and skills. Okay, I really like seeing the House 4 here, it shows there is comfort here. They feel safe with one another. They seem to be in a comfortable place right now. With the magician, I just see him seeing Ni-ki as a talented and skilled person who may be too heavily focused on achieving what he wants to kind of have time to tend to relationships with him. I just see this man looking down at what he is creating, not really focused on anything else. And this could possibly be Sunoo's energy as well. But overall, they feel like family, there is love there, but at the moment they aren't too connected with one another.

Okay, I think I made some sense of this. I thought there were interesting messages here.

#kpop tarot #enhypen tarot #sunoo

24 notes · View notes

skzhua · 2 years ago

Text

Watch Me

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Genre: Spy AU, angst, fluff, rivals-to-lovers.

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, mentions of sex/drugs/death, violence. (currently not proofread)

Word Count: 9,848

Summary: He's your target, but you love him.

A/N: As per usual, the ending is shitty cause I can't make good ones for the life of me. I did like writing this even if it doesn't make sense much. Good reading!

Coming back from another day at work, you walked into your friend's house without knocking, joining in for his birthday party. You had rushed to change clothes beforehand, almost not able to make it in time. In fact, you had forgotten it was his surprise party. Thankfully, his mother had called you as reminder. You were working when you received her call, trying to act normal and hide the sirens sounds in the background.

Not many people knew of your career. For those who did know, they learnt about it by catching you on the field, leaving you no choice but to tell them. Jeongin was one of them, so you knew he wouldn't be mad if you couldn't make it for his birthday. He had caught you in a disguise, unsure on why you were dressed like a hooker in a bar. You, as yourself, were not the kind to go out clubbing, even less wearing this type of clothing. He had called you the following day, full of questions. He had always been a good trustworthy friend, so you told him. However, his friends didn't know and it would be a hassle to try to find an excuse to miss out on his birthday, especially since you have always been so close to the man.

You had landed the job unexpectedly, when a woman had knocked on your door one night. She introduced herself as B, short for boss, and explained to you how she had watched you during your gymnastics competition, theatre days at school, and your taekwondo classes. Although it had creeped you out the fact she was almost stalking you, her offer to work with them was one hell of an opportunity. The pay was good, and there was a level of recognition and respect that you loved. The competition among the other agents was also a bonus, since you always had a competitive side. Needless to say it didn't take you long for you to accept.

Four years later, here you were, living a double life, and out of breath as you burst into Jeongin's house. His mother watched you join them in concern, but you gave her a reassuring smile. You checked your watch, seeing that there was still five minutes left until Jeongin was supposed to finish work. You internally high-fived yourself for your efficiency, and walked to Jeongin's group of friends. You weren't necessarily friends with them, but you got along just fine. Anyway, you had avoided making friends for the last few years in order to avoid spilling out your secret to the wrong people.

So far, Hyunjin was the one you got along with the most. His calm nature and his sweet behaviour matched yours perfectly. It wouldn't be a lie if you said you were sad to not be able to consider him as a close friend. So when you saw him talking with Chan, you were more than happy to join into the conversation.

"Hey, guys!" you smiled to them. "Did I miss out much?"

Chan shook his head as he took a sip from his water bottle. "We just got here with the cake."

"I thought you weren't coming." Hyunjin said in a surprised tone. "I'm glad you are here."

"I would have never missed out on a party! Even less Jeongin's birthday."

Almost on cue, you heard a car coming in the parking lot. His mother shushed the crowd as she hurried her husband to turn off the lights. Jeongin was still in his work clothes when he got out of car to head towards his house. As soon as the door opened, his father turned the lights back on and everyone yelled out an 'happy birthday". Jeongin, visibly shocked, took in what was happening in front of his eyes. He smiled widely while saying 'hi' to everyone, grateful for the thought. When he came to you, he hugged you tightly as whispered something in your ear.

"I thought you had a big mission, I'm happy you're here."

"I managed to finish it early." you replied back as you pulled away from him. "I'm sorry I didn't get you anything, though. I promise I'll buy you a little something this week."

"No, no!" he said. "You being here is enough."

He moved on from you, greeting his other relatives by thanking them for coming. You let him be and sticked with Chan and Hyunjin. The latter offered you a drink, which you happily took, and offered you a seat next to him.

"How have you been?" he asked, making the conversation.

"Pretty well. Work has put a lot of pressure on me these days, but I'm content " you answered briefly.

"Yeah, Jeongin told me you've been very busy. You should take a break, you know? I've only known you as the workaholic you are."

I wish.

"I really can't, we have big deadlines and they can't be postponed." you explained, which was kind of true.

"I get you." Chan said with a sigh. "My job is the same."

You huffed in response. "I doubt that."

"Ah yeah?" he asked in a challenging tone. "What is even your job?"

"Accountant." you answered.

This was the usual lie your agency told you to say when the question was asked. It's the typical lie, but it's very efficient. The only flaw was that you knew nothing about accounting jobs, so you usually avoided explicitly saying what exactly you were doing for work, keeping it brief by saying it's an office job.

"Really? I'm an accountant too." he exclaimed.

"Oh."

Great.

"What's your position?" he continued. "I'm in supervising."

Just. Great.

"Just a normal accountant."

Chan seemed satisfied with your answer, as he nodded before drinking the alcohol from his cup.

"I don't know how you both do it." Hyunjin exhaled. "Being an art teacher is already too much for me."

You gave him a deadpan look. "You have a career you adore, are you kidding me? Plus, you work with children."

"You don't know how children can be..."

"Tell me about it." Chan added, earning a confused look from you.

"You have children?"

He answered by gesturing the rest of his friend group, pointing out Jisung and Changbin especially, who were currently yelling at each other as they bickered over a piece of cake. Minho was filming the scene while Seungmin complained to Jeongin. Your friend's eyes were shut as he had blocked his ears because of the noise. As for Felix, well, you don't know exactly what he was doing. He was an intriguing boy, to say the least. It was understandable when Chan referred to them as his children, they were chaotic together.

The party went on normally, with some music, snacks and drinks for everyone, and the cake Hyunjin and Chan brought. When it was time for the gifts, Jeongin took the time to open each with care, thanking the guests kindly. The boys had all pitched in for a present, buying the new PC he had been wanting for months already. You were surprised at how much they were willing to pay for their youngest friend's happiness.

"Wow, he's lucky to have you. I didn't even buy a card." you commented.

Chan chuckled and gave you a warm smile. "You don't have to get him a gift, he's happy enough you're in his life. And so am I, I'm happy he has you around."

"I'm the one who should thank you for being there for him." you returned the compliment. "Especially since I don't have time to hang out with him anymore."

He gave you a small squeeze on the arm to reassure you, as he drank his drink again. You watched his action and noticed his strong jawline. Was it always this prominent? And his lips, were they always this plump?

Shrugging off your thoughts, you went to the kitchen to serve yourself another cup, stealing one of the snacks Jeongin's mother had made. When you came back, many people were already leaving, mostly the extended family. You noticed it was getting late, and you wondered if you also had to leave. Your question was quickly answered when Jeongin's father told you to have fun before he went to sleep. That left you alone with the eight men. Hyunjin invited you next to him on the couch, while the others installed themselves around the coffee table.

"How about we play a game?" Felix suggested, which resulted to everyone shaking their heads in disgust. "Jeez, my bad. I get we're old now, but not that much."

When you heard Chan laugh at the younger man, you spotted his dimples showing, as well as his chest puffing. You were starting to wonder how you have never noticed how handsome he was. He caught you staring, and simply sent you a smirk. You blushed and shifted your gaze elsewhere, not used to this kind of attention. Well, you were used to it for work. However, this was totally different. You never bothered with flirting and such for obvious reasons, so you were less than inexperienced with the matter. Having Chan staring at you up and down as he checked you out throughout the evening was torturing, both mentally and physically. You didn't know you could feel so hot, even after drinking so many alcoholic beverages. With ice, might you add.

Waking up to a naked Chan next to you in the morning had almost caused you an heart attack. Never in a million years have you had a one night stand, even less with someone you barely knew. You did remember how needy you had become the previous night, and how Chan had found you alone in the kitchen, trapping you between the counter and himself. You remembered how he connected his lips to yours in a matter of seconds, and how he brought you to the guest room with your legs around his waist.

You grunted in frustration and checked the time. Luckily, you still had time before your next meeting. Your boss had told you how important the next mission was going to be, and that it was crucial for you to be present at the meeting. You gathered your clothes quickly, put them on, and went to the dining room. You found Jeongin and Hyunjin chatting, while Minho and Seungmin were watching something on the TV. As he spotted you, Jeongin gave you a knowing look, but Hyunjin looked annoyed.

"Good morning." you said, joining them. "Did you both sleep well?"

"We know you did." Jeongin teased and you rolled your eyes at his remark.

"Since when are you and Chan.. you know?" Hyunjin asked in a soft, yet deranged tone.

"Oh no." you denied immediately. "That's a one time thing. You know I don't do this kind of stuff."

Hyunjin almost looked reassured, as he nodded in silence. You allowed yourself to get a cup of coffee and one the toasts Jeongin had already made. As you started to eat, Chan walked in, shirtless with sweatpants on, with his eyes half-shut. He greeted the guys lazily and joined you to get himself his own coffee. He sat next to Jeongin and let out a loud yawn, before sipping on his cup.

"You good?" Jeongin laughed.

Chan answered while stretching out his back. "I don't think I slept well. Surprising, cause your bed in the guest room is comfortable. Even more surprising, I slept alone there?"

You choked on your coffee at his words. Did he not remember? Maybe it was for the best, you didn't want to tell him directly 'hey, i just wanted to get laid, so ciao.' However, thanks to Changbin, Chan was reminded of your night pretty quickly.

"You had someone else with you." he laughed, and Chan's eyes widened in realization.

He looked at you, who was already a blushing mess. "I'm so sorry. Listen, I didn't mean for it to happen. I mean, it was great, but I don't really have time to... well you know. I don't want to sound mean or anything." he rambled out messily.

"No, it's all good. It was just good sex for one night, nothing more." you interrupted him.

He smiled at you, happy to know you were both on the same page.

"Not that I don't like you, guys, but I should go back home and freshen up before work." you said as you finished your coffee.

"Already? But it's my birthday." Jeongin argued. "Can't you take the day off for once?"

"You know I don't take days off."

Giving him an last apologetic smile, you gathered your things and left the house. You had parked your car a bit further since you had arrived late the day before. As you were about to drive away, you bumped into the car in front of you, thinking you were on reverse. You hesitated, unsure if you should do a hit and run. By looking at the time, you decided you would be late if you dealt with this. So you left, feeling a little bad for the poor car owner.

After taking a shower and changing clothes, you took off to go to your agency. You took the time to buy your boss some donuts at the shop nearby, and then headed to her office. Her door was already opened, so you went inside without knocking. She was in a call and motioned for you to sit down until she was done. She smiled at you when she saw the sweets, so you placed them in front of her. Once her call was over, she sighed loudly and grabbed one of the pastries, stuffing it into her mouth.

"I'm guessing you talked with big boss?" you asked, chuckling at her actions.

She nodded as she finished to swallow her bite. "There was a change of plans in your new case. It's a big one." This made you discouraged. "I know I'm giving you a lot of work these days, but I can't trust anyone else with this one. It has to do with JYP."

"Again?" you exclaimed in exasperation. "I thought we were done with them."

"Definitely not. Look."

She gave you a file as thick as a school book. As you opened it, the first thing you see is a picture of a man dressed in black, wearing a mask and a cap to hide his face. Along with it came some informations about him. He's one of JYP's best agents and has been able to infiltrate your agency to steal your plans. JYP was another spy company. Despite their fame in the industry, they were extremely secretive and you barely knew anything about their doings. All you could say was that they were among the bests. However, this did not mean they were the good guys. In fact, most of the time, they were the reason why your team would fail. They would sabotage your plans and execute missions in your place. Every time, they beat you. This kind of rivalry was uncommon, but JYP made it to occur more frequently than you'd like it. On top of that, you could never know who they were within the hundreds of people around you during a mission. That's how good they were.

"How did you find him?" you questioned. "We have never been able to identify anyone from JYP."

"He's a recurrent figure on field, we have seen him more than a dozen of times. On your last mission, I managed to find more informations on him by asking around. His name is Christopher and he's worked for about twelve years, starting at the age of thirteen. An impressive resume, might I say. Nonetheless, he's the reason why our files keep getting leaked. I need you to take him down." you boss explained, still munching on her snack.

"Me? I failed my last few assignments, I'm like the worst employee at the moment."

She shushed your claims and turned on her TV screen where she displayed a PowerPoint. "The plan is to attend this business event tonight. It regroups the best technology companies of the country. You'll go there as a guest named Hana."

"How original..." you huffed at the made up name.

"Christopher will also be attending." she continued. "I need you to grab his attention and get close enough so you can find something in his hotel room."

You laughed in disbelief. "So you want me to get into his pants? Not happening."

"We've seen him surrounded with women over the few observations we did on him. This is our best chance into tricking the tricksters themselves."

She finished by handing you a flash drive which contained all the informations you needed for the mission. Reluctantly, you took it from her and went back home. Looks like you had to get ready for a big night.

"You look great." Soojin, another agent who was in the van outside of the building, said through your earpiece.

"I'll have to thank my mother for buying me tons of dresses in hopes I find myself a husband." you joked.

You would never tell her the actual reason on why you'd most likely never marry someone. The excuse you came up with was that you preferred knowing you can support yourself financially without needing a man around. It wasn't exactly a lie, but you had never found the courage to reveal your career to her. She would simply freak out learning you can die any day.

Soojin chuckled at your comment before trying to lead you towards your target. "Alright, I believe he is at the bar right now. Do you need a drink yet?"

"I'm always down for a nice cocktail." you whispered before walking towards the bar.

It didn't take long for you to find Christopher, his back facing you. He was wearing a black tuxedo, almost matching perfectly with your own attire. His brown hair was slicked back and you noticed a pair of silver earrings hanging on his ears. They were the exact ones he was wearing on the blurred picture you had as a referance. Smiling at yourself in satisfaction, you sat a bit further from him, not wanting to seem too direct with the man. The dark lighting didn't allow you to take a good look on his face, but you did notice that his veiny hands were decorated with multiple rings. You swore you have seen them before. Was it on a previous mission? You weren't sure.

"May I have your attention?" the host of the event called out through a microphone, standing on the small stage. "I'd like to thank you all for being here. Tonight is a great opportunity to share our projects and ideas, and I hope we can learn a lot from each other. I invite you to have a drink at our bar and serve yourself from our buffet. With that being said, enjoy your night."

Ending with the crowd applauding, you stood up from your stool as you decided it was an appropriate moment to introduce yourself to Christopher. You glanced around, in case something might interrupt your action, and as you shifted your body around, you bumped into someone, their glass of champagne spilling on you. You gasped at the cold contact with the liquid, freezing in place.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" you heard a much familiar voice with a much recognizable accent.

"Chan?" you exclaimed.

You analyzed his outfit, which corresponded exactly with the one you saw earlier while watching your target. He had put some makeup on with coloured contacts. His tie was neatly placed around his neck with a pin to decorate it. Well, there goes your cover. However, you were pretty sure he didn't know the exact reason on why you were here. So you played dumb. You managed, somehow, to hide your shock and continued with your interraction. All this while ignoring Soojin's questioning through your ear.

"What are you doing here?" you asked with a pleasantly surprised laugh.

"I have a contract with one of the companies. What about you?" he asked.

"Same." you lied. "This was the big meeting I was talking about earlier today."

"What a coincidence!" he exhaled in a laugh. "I'm so sorry about your dress." he apologized in a rush as soon as he remembered your incident.

"No harm done."

He went to the bartender, asking him for some tissues, and handed them to you so you could attempt to clean up some of the champagne off. Luckily, it wasn't red wine. As he watched you struggle, he shook his head furiously before taking your hand, leading you to a hallway.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't answer and walked until he arrived at a single public washroom. He took more tissues, damped them with water, and cleaned off the champagne that was still remaining around your neck. Too stunned to speak, you watched him in silence. Again, you found him extremely attractive. Even more than the previous night. However, you were currently working, and any of those dirty thoughts had to be shut down.

"There you go." he breathed out as he finished. "Sorry again."

"Don't apologize, I think I still look fine, minus the fact I smell like alcohol." you mumbled the last part.

He used a finger to raise your chin, making you face him. "You look gorgeous."

Damn you, Bang Chan.

"You don't look too bad yourself." you replied in a whisper.

He was getting closer to your face, his hands were already around your waist. You felt his breath on your own lips and it took everything in you to not give in and kiss him at this instant. Soojin was still on the other end of your earpiece. She couldn't see you, since there was no camera in the washroom, but she saw you walk inside.

"Continue with the flirt." she insisted. "It'll get you to his hotel room."

Right, the mission. As his gaze still flickered between your lips and your eyes, you felt yourself slowly relaxing in his embrace. Unfortunately, the moment had to be ruined when a woman opened the door, interrupting the two of you. Chan had forgotten to lock the door. You took the opportunity to detach yourself from him, and step outside of the room, not forgetting to give a small apology to the girl. Chan followed you behind and was quick to match your pace and walk next to you. You avoided his stare, embarrassed by what had just happened barely a minute ago. You joined the rest of the crowd, Chan still following.

"I suppose you were serious this morning when you said it was a one time thing." he broke the silence.

Taken aback, you stared at him as you were unsure on what to respond. He was looking at you expectantly. To be honest, you had never been looked at like this, with so much lust. You were sure part of it had to do with the alcohol he had already consumed, but you hoped he actually wanted you. You knew it was wrong to feel this way, especially since you had to literally rob from him. Nonetheless, this seemed unimportant at the moment.

"I mean, kind of." you answered. "It's not that I don't want to, I can assure you I'd fuck you again anytime. But you have the same reasons as me as why you don't get involved in relationships."

"Right." he nodded in agreement. "This can be casual, though." he insisted and the look he received from you made him panic. "I'm sorry, I'm not saying things correctly. What I meant to say is that you have caught my attention for a while now and yesterday was just... I don't know, it was great. And I won't force you into anything, but I'd like to do it again. Like I said, it can be very casual, no feelings or commitment involved."

Friends with benefits was never an option for you. You have watched and read every single story with this type of dynamic and you knew how it always ended.

"Say yes." Soojin exclaimed excitedly. "This is your opportunity for a better insight."

Although she was very much right, you weren't 100% convinced. He was your rival, sure, but you were also starting to consider him as a friend for the very least. The whole situation changed a lot of things for you.

"Depends. Do you do this with every woman Jeongin introduces to you?" you said as a way to provoke him.

"Only you, so far." he smirked.

You shrugged your shoulders and looked away from him. "Might I remind you we are currently working."

"You know better than me that this is simply a formal gathering and nothing more. We are just here in case they need help with financing their projects, which I doubt they will. They are wealthier than anyone in this city."

"Why are you being so vague? Just say yes, jeez!" Soojin said in frustration, making you wince at her loud voice.

"You do have a point." you trailed off, still making him linger. "Alright. Do you have a room?"

He grinned at your words. "Is a fine suite good enough for you?"

You would have done the job properly for sure. That was only if you wouldn't have been underneath Chan while moaning your lungs out. You could say whatever about the man, but one thing for sure was that he was good in bed, and he knew it. He had worked you up so perfectly that your sole focus was on him for the whole night. You had turned off your earpiece while making a stop to his bathroom as you were about to engage intercourse. Soojin was being both hyped and disgusted by your actions. Telling her she could go home for now and that you would call her the next day, you turned off your devices, hid your weapons in the cabinets and ran back to Chan's bed. You could have searched the bathroom, but your horniness took over.

As your naked frame woke up in his embrace, you internally cursed at yourself. You still had time to find at least something related to JYP in his room, right? Your best chance wouldn't be while cuddling with him, that being your current position. Chan was still sound asleep, but his grip around your body was firm. Just enough so you wouldn't be able to get away from his grasp. As you sighed loudly in exasperation, it was enough for him to slowly opening his eyes. Upon seeing your face, he managed a small grin before yawning loudly.

"Good morning."

"Hey." you said awkwardly.

He noticed how you were being uneasy and frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me. Still feels weird, that's all."

Not convinced, he gave you a look but didn't push it. He let go of you so he could get out of the covers, his boxers on thankfully.

"I'll wash up and then you can go after?"

Remembering you had left all of your things in his bathroom, you got up in a hurry, stopping him from entering the room, still naked. "I'll go first, if you don't mind."

He gestured the door for you. "I can lend you a shirt and some pants if you want."

You lifted your thumb up in agreement, and closed the door in his face. It's in a panic that you gathered every single item you had hid the night prior. When you were pretty such you had everything, you took a quick shower and wrapped a towel around your body. You found a pile of black clothes on the ground when you opened the door, folded with care. You could hear Chan humming to himself and, quite frankly, he had a nice voice. You got dressed, hid your devices on yourself, and joined Chan on his bed. He had put on a hoodie with shorts and was on his laptop doing whatever.

His laptop. That was it.

"Hey, babygirl." he said with an inviting arm to come into his embrace.

You slipped yourself in his arms and he kissed your temple. You froze at his actions and he must have noticed because his body stiffened.

"Sorry." he coughed. "I'll go shower, and do you have anything else planned for the day?"

"I have a meeting in the afternoon."

He hummed at your answer. "Alright, I'll drop you off if you want."

"You can just bring me home, I'll want to put on a more adequate attire." you chuckled. As he got up to go in the shower, you called out his name. "Jeongin must not know about this arrangement of ours."

"As you wish."

The moment he closed the door, you ran to his laptop and plugged your flash drive that allowed you to decrypt his password. As the software started to do its work, you read the coding scrolling. His password was Berryyy97. What the... You had no time to question it and got into your research. You transferred his files to another flash drive and, while waiting, you took the opportunity to check out what was in his phone as well. His chats were filled of messages exchanged with his friends and family, nothing important. You did come upon one message, though, that caught your attention. It was his discussion with Hyunjin.

Hyunjin: Are you sure she is invited?

Chan: I told you his mom just confirmed it! Now hurry, we need to get the cake.

Hyunjin: I'm still struggling with an outfit...

Chan: You look good no matter what!! Y/N's not blind, she'll notice you for sure. Now HURRY!

Hyunjin wanted you to notice him? Oh... This explained why he was being weird the other day, and why he asked about you and Chan. You felt bad, to say the least, but you had never considered it an option being with him. He was too soft to be able to deal with your lifestyle, it would only make him suffer. Plus, you never had even a tiny bit of an interest for him other than friendship.

The transfer was quickly done which left you wondering why his computer didn't have as much content as you expected. You took back your drive and sent a quick message to Soojin to let her know you had completed the assignment and that you will see her at the headquarters. She replied by informing you the boss had, yet, another case she wanted you to work on. Fun... Chan had finished washing up not so long after and hurried to pack his belongings so you could leave as soon as you can. When he seemed to have everything, he came to you and pressed his lips onto yours making you lay down back on the bed. The make out session was quick, but long enough to leave butterflies down your stomach. As he separated himself from you, he gave you a cocky smile.

"Shall we go?"

Chan was nothing but a gentleman. Opening the door for you, asking if the temperature in the vehicle was adequate for you, walking you to your door... This didn't help your case. When you received an ecstatic message from Soojin who was bombarding you with questions, you knew you put yourself in a shitty position.

A month had passed since that day. You saw Chan a couple more times and kept it exclusively platonic. For his part, at least. Whether you liked it or not, he did find his way into your heart and you hated it so bad. Not only because you knew it was going to end up this way, but also because your current mission was to get rid of him. Luckily, not getting rid of him as in killing, but cutting off his activities. He was a threat, a thief, and a scammer you could say. When you boss had announced you she was stepping up to the next phase, your reaction was bland. You simply accepted without arguing and that night, you had called Chan for a hook up.

Now, the mission was easy as itself. There was going to be another company gathering to promote one of their newest collaboration and you and Chan were asked to take part of it. You'd have to bring him outside into a van, lock him there, make him admit his wrongs, and blackmail him. Easy as a piece of cake. You did wonder why it was as simple as this, but didn't bother questioning your boss. Either it was going to go smoothly, or you were going to mess it up.

"Y/N?" Jeongin sanpped you out of your mind. "Are you alright?2

You took a look around, remembering your friend had asked you to come to his place to help him with the decorations he was planning or re-doing. "Uh, yeah. I'm good."

His eyebrow perked, not fully convinced. "What's been up with you, these days?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying."

"Can't we continue to look at the color schemes?" you whined.

"No. You're acting oddly and it is my job to care about you. Now, what is it?"

You debated internally whether you should let him know about your situation. It's not that you didn't trust him, but it was not you place for you to reveal Chan's big secret. Seeing your hesitation, Jeongin closed his laptop, where you had been going over a few aesthetics, and repositioned himself to face you properly.

"I don't want to force you into telling me anything, but I do think you might need to get whatever this is off your chest." he said softly, surprising you with how much he cared.

Biting down on your lip, you still hesitated for a minute or two. After determining that you did, in fact, need to tell someone, you spoke. "It's about Chan. We've been kind of hooking up ever since your birthday."

Jeongin's soft expression turned into a teasing grin, almost making you regret saying anything. "I knew it! I'm supposing you've fallen for him and you don't know how to tell him?"

You smiled weakly. "Not exactly..."

And so, you told him everything from the beginning. You went over the initial mission, your night together, the small gestures of affection he still gave you regardless of only being fuck buddies, and about your next assignment with him. Not once had Jeongin interrupted you, allowing you to let it all out in one go. When you had finished, he was staring on the ground, thoughtful. By the lack of response on his part, you panicked slightly.

"Say something, man! You're stressing me out."

He looked back up to you. "I haven't been quite truthful with you either." he confessed, which only made you stress even more. "I knew about Chan and his job."

There it was again, the blank face you had been putting up for a month. It didn't surprise you he knew, but it did bother you that he didn't tell you earlier. You understood why, but it would have made things much easier to straight up vent to him instead of keeping everything to yourself.

Taking your silence as a sign to keep talking, Jeongin let out a sigh. "He told me about it before you did, actually. He had cancelled on me a few times and I got mad he was skipping our usual nights out with the others. That's when he revealed everything. I won't say the details because it is not my place to tell, but I'm letting you know he is just doing his job, nothing more."

While going through all of what he said in your mind, you were left but with one question in particular. "Does he..?" you trailed off.

"No, from what he told me. He said he was scared you were going to catch him during his mission, actually. You know, the first one where you saw each other?"

"Thanks for making me feel even more bad." you joked. "What do I do now? He's my friend, I can't do that to him..."

Although you could see that he was trying his best to cheer you up, nothing could make you feel better about the whole thing. In two days, feelings involved or not, you would be betraying Chan.

The rest of the day went on smoothly. Jeongin ordered some takeout while you were still looking for a new couch to replace his old one. You did try to think about anything else, but it always came back to your main issue. Even food wasn't enough. A knock came on the door while you were showing your friend an example of an aesthetic you found appealing for his home. You opened the door and revealed Hyunjin in all his glory. He had pulled back his hair in a small ponytail, strands falling on his face perfectly, and he had dressed up for whatever occasion he had. You smirked at his as you nodded your head towards his outfit, not even greeting him properly. The apple of his cheeks turned red, and he quickly asked if Jeongin was home which made you open the door wider to let him inside.

"Are we going?" he asked, hands in his pockets.

Jeongin was not sure what he meant. "Going where?"

"At the bar?"

"Oh shit. Sorry, Y/N, but I promised Hyunjin to go with him."

Hyunjin came closer to you, his eyes deep into yours. "You can come with us, if you'd like to."

You were definitely not in the mood to go out and socialize, but by the intense glare you received from your friend, you came to the conclusion it might be helping you forget about your problems for a bit. Last time you drank, you had slept with Chan. Maybe this time, it was not going to make you go in someone's bed.

Next thing you know, you are staring blankly at an empty glass at the counter with the bartender sending you pitiful glances. The boys are having the time of their life, already drunk enough to laugh at the sightless jokes the other would throw. You did not even know what you were drinking at this point, being at your sixth drink. Debating on which liquor you should ask to be refilled in your glass, the bartender sent you one last sad smile before removing his nametag as his shift ended. It's with a loud and prolonged sigh that you let yourself fall on the counter, eyes half-opened. You saw the barman exchange words with another man, presumably his coworker, before taking off. You called out the new worker as you raised your glass. When his eyes met yours, time stopped. The same gray contact lenses were staring right back at you. This couldn't be a coincidence. You observed his appearance; his hair was no longer dark brown, but blonde, and it looked curly instead of styled. With a black buttoned shirt and some chains to decorate his wrists, he was looking more fine than ever.

"You're drunk." he simply stated.

"Thank you, Mr. obvious." you laughed off, raising your glass closer to him. "Can I have a refill?"

"No."

"Why not? It seems to me like you are working, which is pretty odd considering the fact you are an accountant." you said, putting an emphasis on the word 'fact'.

"What are you doing here in the middle of the week?"

Frustrated by his lack of answer, you snapped. "I don't need to tell you, you're not responsible of me."

"Kind of am, actually." he muttered under his breath although you had heard him very clearly.

You were about to say something back when Hyunjin came to join you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder protectively. His gaze was directed to Chan, who gulped at the arrival of his friend. Perhaps he was jealous... NO! Why were you even thinking like this. If anything, you should be concerned about how he was obviously in the middle of a mission by the way he was presenting himself. Why was he here? From the files you had extracted from his laptop, his next appearance on the field wasn't going to happen until the upcoming event where you had planned out his downfall. It was as if the universe was listening to you as you received a call from non other than Soojin. Excusing yourself, you left the two men behind and went to a corner where it was less crowded. You answered to a panicked Soojin, stammering at her words as she attempted to speak. The most you could make out was 'change of plans' and 'join me in the washroom'. So you did so. It took her no time to lock the door behind you and get back to her unclear monologue.

"I was on the watch for Christopher and I followed him here. I was so confused when I saw you so I called B and she asked me to give you your stuff, but I have no idea what the plan is now. She said that you'd understand if I say plan C, but what the hell is it? How can I monitor you if I have no clue what this means." she kept rambling out.

"Hey, hey." You took her by the shoulders. "Breathe, okay? There you go. Now, are you sure she said plan C?" She nodded and it instantly made you sober up. "Fuck."

"What is it?"

"Get the van ready, we'll need it. Just stay at your post and let me handle this." you said, putting on your earpiece and trying to get back your focus completely. "I'll tell you when to open the door, and I'll need help to contain him. Do you have the shots in case shit happens? Good. I'll see you later."

You didn't let her say another word as you left the washroom to go back to your previous emplacement. You were still rather far when you noticed that Chan was still at the bar and, seemingly, he was arguing with Hyunjin. You stayed where you were, keeping a distance so he could not see you.

"Soojin, are you back in the van?"

"Yup."

"Can you try to get to hear his chat with Hyunjinnie here?"

"Hyunjinnie?" she said in a teasing tone.

"Soojin..." you breathed out.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm connecting you to it."

You turned up the volume a little to hear better and you could decipher Hyunjin's voice, almost cracking. Now, you were curious.

"I specifically told you because I knew you weren't going to backstab me with it." Your heart almost broke at his tonality.

"It's not like I had a choice, much." Chan was now talking. "I did not plan on sleeping with her, that night. How many times do I have to tell you?" This hurt more than it should.

"You were almost eye-fucking her, just now. Don't tell me you don't have any intentions with her."

"I don't have the time for this."

Hyunjin scoffed. "I do know for a fact that you have plenty of time to talk this out. Your target is not even here."

So Hyunjin knew as well, good to know.

"You don't know who my target is."

"Maybe not, but I know you weren't supposed to be here until midnight." You checked the time and Chan was, indeed, an hour in advance. "You came here because I told you she was here with us." There was a silence between them.

The tension could be seen from where you were and there was no denying that Hyunjin was furious. Chan took his eyes off him and they met yours again. It would be suspicious if you only stood there, so you walked over to them, sitting back on the stool. Immediately, Hyunjin's face softened at your presence. He bit his lower lip in awkwardness and sipped on his drink as a distraction.

"Sorry about that, my friend got dumped again." you laughed making Hyunjin frown.

"Wasn't she dumped like three months ago?"

"She's a manhunter, let's say." you shrugged, taking your glass again. "You have not filled it." you now spoke to the man in black.

"You don't need more alcohol." he said sternly.

You put it back on the counter and rolled your eyes. "It's not because you get to fuck me that you get to tell me what to do in my daily life."

"Wait, what?" Hyunjin exclaimed. "So you have fucked more than once?"

Chan ignored him and leaned on the counter to get closer to you. "I get to do so when it comes to your safety."

"My safety?" you chuckled. "I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."

"Not what you said last week, doll."

With that, Chan received a fist on the side of his face, gaining a bruise on his cheeks. Dumbfounded, he searched for the source of the hit. Eyes darkened, Hyunjin still had his hand in a fist, breathing heavily.

"Woah, woah." Jeongin yelled out, making his way toward the three of you. "Hyunjin, what the fuck!"

Snapping out of it, the young man retracted his hand back and started guiltily at his older friend. Still breathing intensely, he gave you one last look before leaving the scene. Jeongin, calling him out, soon followed.

"Damn, I didn't know you were stuck in a love triangle." you heard Soojin comment.

You hummed as an way to answer her, and went around the counter to go to Chan. He was massaging carefully his face and winced in pain at the touch. You took him b the arm silently and lead him away from the scene. You reached the back of the bar, looking for a first aid kit. You spotted it quickly and went to grab it before heading back in the washroom you were previously in. There wasn't much in the box, but enough to treat Chan's face. He watched you attentively while you took out the necessary material and started to clean his cheek. He winced at the contact, but you simply glared him.

"What? It hurts."

"Stay still, you baby." you snorted and brought your focus back to the purple part of his face.

"I don't need you to take care of me." he said, once you were done treating him.

"And I don't need you to take care of me either." you brought back the argument from earlier while putting back the bandages in the box. "And yet, here we are."

"Y/N..." he started.

He paused to look into your eyes, but you weren't in the mood for another staring contest. You went to the sink to wash your hands and he stayed where he was, not able to say more.

"Girl, the plan." Soojin said impatiently.

You had almost forgotten about it, honestly. But you knew what needed to be done, whether you liked it or not. You took out the pill from you bra (a pretty useful location, might you say), and put it at the back of your mouth with your tongue in order to not let it fall into your own throat.

"You still have not answered on why you were here." you broke the ice.

He chuckled awkwardly. "I take this as a part-time to help my finances."

You turned to him, a knowing look accross your face. "Isn't an accountant in supervising supposed to know his salary is more than enough to provide for himself?"

Usually, Chan was an excellent liar. With you, however, he was losing his touch. You made him completely lost and, almost, enchanted. He could not point out why exactly, but he was both adoring and hating it. He gulped at your words, knowing he was most definitely caught.

"I know, Chan, it's okay." you said softly which made him relax.

"And, you are... I'm guessing you're okay with it?" he asked carefully as he stepped forward.

"More or less..." you almost whispered.

You did not expect this to be as difficult. You had the sleeping pill in your mouth, you just had to kiss him and make him swallow it. As easy as it can be. It was far from being easy. Tears were flooding your eyes more and you could not contain them anymore. Chan instinctively brought his hands to your face and brushed under your eyes with his thumbs.

"Here, it's okay. What do you have in mind, sweetheart?"

You, idiot. you thought.

"I'm so sorry..." you managed to express.

"For what? You did nothing wrong."

It was already too hard in itself, you could not look at him anymore. So, you kissed him. He responded to it immediately, kissing you back tenderly which only made things worse for you.

"For this." you whispered.

You brought the pill back to your lips and spit it into Chan mouth, aiming directly at his throat. He choked slightly in surprise and he let go of his grasp on you. You watched him step back and saw him gulp. It was definitely in his system, now.

"Y/N..." he said again.

"Soojin, I'll join you at the back door." you talked through your hidden mic, still sobbing.

"You did great, sweetie." she replied in a small voice.

Staring at the screen, no emotion were displayed on your face. Instead, you were looking blankly at the man as he walked in circles in the room you had put him in. You had received congratulations from the whole team and from your boss. Unlike what you would have thought, this did not make you feel good. A knot had formed itself in your chest the moment you had kissed Chan, and it was still present.

B had announced you she was promoting you to field leader, which was one of the highest positions and the one you had been seeking for. Instead of joy, you felt shame. You did want the title, but you didn't feel like you earned it. The only thing you had gained was guilt and sorrow.

"What are you going to do with him, now?" you finally spoke after watching the surveillance footage for hours now.

Soojin, who had agreed to keep you company throughout the night, let out an exhale. "Most likely, B is going to force him to reveal JYP's plans and make him quit."

"He's just doing his job." you repeated Jeongin's words.

"So are we." She saw how this only made you sadder, so she sat next to you to rub your arm in comfort. "I know you love this guy-"

"Like." you corrected her.

She smiled weakly and continued. "I know you like this guy, and he seems to like you a lot too, but this was bound to happen."

You laughed sadly. "In all the partners I've had in my life, if I can call him that, he was the only one who cared enough to let me call him at midnight just to talk even if he was tired. He was the only one who didn't judge me when I told him about my obsession with penguins."

"Which is odd, yes, but whatever. Keep going?" she commented with a chuckle.

"I don't have much more to say. He's going to hate me, now." you grunted as you buried your face in your hands.

"Y/N." Soojin soothed you by rubbing your back. "The first thing he said when he woke up was 'is Y/N okay?' The man still cares about you, I promise."

"Had B even told you about plan C?" you asked out of nowhere, which took her by surprise.

"No."

"Plan C was, if things were getting to complicated, we have to get rid of him. And I mean, get rid of him definitely." You took her silence as shock. "I never expected her to go to this extend with this case, but she's had beef with JYP for years and I think it got to her head a bit too much."

Soojin hummed as you explained, but questionings popped in her head. "What are they even doing other than stealing plans?"

You paused to think. Surely, there was something, no? "Now that I think about it, nothing. Actually, there are only stealing our plans and executing the missions better." In realization, you stood up. "Is she doing this to win some kind of competition?"

Soojin stood up as well, agreeing that what you were saying was making a lot of sense. You scoffed in disbelief. In all the years you have worked with her, it never came to your thoughts that she could be using her position to make you deal with her personal feud. Not adding anything to your out-loud reflection, you walked out of the camera room and ran to the cells.

"I'll cover for you, I guess." Soojin yelled cluelessly at your sudden departure.

Scanning your ID card, the door opened to the detention cells and you headed straight to Chan. You searched around as you were reactivating your earpiece.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yes." you friend said lazily.

"Can you change the footage on the screens so it-" you started but she was quick to cut you off.

"Already done, now go save your damsel in distress."

"Thanks." you laughed. "Ah, and-"

"Number 0325." she answered before you could ask her which cell he was detained in.

You ran through the hallway until you came face to face with the door that had the number scripted on. You took a deep breath and hesitated to open turn the knob. You gathered the most of your courage and put your hand on the doorknob.

"You might want to unlock it beforehand, just saying."

What were you going to do without Soojin...

Unlocking it, you opened the door and saw Chan sitting in the corner of the room. His eyebags were more visible than usual, but they held the same softness as he looked up at you. Embarrassed, he stood up and rubbed his hands on his pants. You closed the door behind you and smiled awkwardly at him. This was going well...

"So-"

"I-" you started at the same time as him.

He chuckled shyly and you gestured for him to talk. "I knew about you too, by the way. You kind of were my target." You frowned at him, and he sighed before explaining. "My mission was to steal your laser so I could bring it back to the company for them to examine it and reproduce it."

You stared at him blankly. Your lack of reaction was stressing him out, but it was soon replaced by laughter.

"This makes things even stupider." you coughed out between your laughs. "My boss wanted me to take you down because you wanted to steal a laser?" you scoffed.

Chan was expecting a lot of types of reactions from you, but this one was not amongst them. "I don't get it."

You took the time to calm down and went ahead and explained to him. "My boss feels so threatened by your agency that she tasked me with taking you down to gather informations about JYP, to then take them down."

"Oh."

"I know, it's ridiculous, but I went along with it, got you to bring me back in your room to search you up, and wanted me to quite literally kill you if things got out of hand..." you trailed off the last part and Chan walked closer to you.

"Does that mean that this whole arrangement was... an act?"

"Yes." you said but shook your head straight after. "No. Well, both? It was originally an act, but, Chan, you have no fucking idea how difficult you made all of this for me."

"My bad." he said sarcastically.

"I... I don

"I... I don't know how to say this, but... I think I like you?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You think..?"

You slapped yourself mentally at how messily this was all going. "I do... like you." You took a deep breath. "I like you a lot."

This was all it took to bring back a smile on his face before he went closer to you, leaving another one of his infamous kisses on your lips. You smiled back and kissed back, with the same amount of softness but with something more to it. As if you were now completely smitten over each other, no more faking or hiding. You separated from him, reality hitting you.

"What now?"

Chan shrugged. "We might want to leave this place."

"Good idea."

Standing in the middle of Hyunjin's living room, you took a step back to admire the artwork you had completed, well, almost. You were not satisfied yet with the results, which resulted in you whining once again.

"Gosh, Y/N!" Hyunjin cried out.

"His hair look like poop." you pouted.

He rolled his eyes dramatically and took the brush from your hand. "Look. Like this." he said as he demonstrated how to paint hair properly.

"Jinnie, how does this look this good?" you complained and sat on your chair in defeat.

"Practice." he shrugged his shoulders. "This is good for a first painting, though. I'm sure he'll love it."

"I guess." you breathed out while staring at the attempt of painting the man. "Huh?" you let out as your phone rang. "Talking about him..." you said, showing the screen to Hyunjin.

"Try not to spoil the surprise." he laughed.

You ignored his remark and answered the call instead. "Channie?"

"Hey, I stopped by your place to get my gun but you weren't there so I hope you don't mind that I broke into your apartment." he ended with a small chuckle.

"As long as you pay a new door for me."

"Right, will do! By the way, B asked me to tell you that your meeting is postponed."

You frowned. "Why is that so?"

"JYP showed up and she wanted to show them around herself."

"Uh... look at her being all cozy with the enemy."

"Watch us doing the same tonight." he teased.

"Chan..."

He laughed from the other side of the line. "I'm kidding. I have to go, but I'll see you tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll stop by for sure."

"Good. I love you."

You smiled even though he could not see. "I love you too."

You ended the call and went back to Hyunjin, who was visibly judging you. "Ew."

"Shut up."

"No, you shut up with this lovey-dovey shit and get back to your painting if you want to give it to Chan tonight. Imagine not even having a gift for your boyfriend's birthday, pathetic." he huffed but you ignored him as you smiled at the thought.

Your boyfriend, a term that has been around for months now, but you could never get used to it. Your boyfriend, who was currently fighting off somewhere with high chances of dying. Oh well, that's what you get for getting yourself a top tier agent.

#stray kids #stray kids bang chan #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #bang chan #bangchan x reader #bang chan scenarios #bang chan spy au #stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff

168 notes · View notes

bespectacled-bookwyrm · 1 year ago

Text

Some Colress Headcanons!

I saw some posted by @colress-commodore-enterprises and was inspired to write some of my own!

Colress squeaks when he's startled or flustered.

He is the second of three siblings: Lusamine is the eldest, Colress is the middle child, and Darach is the youngest.

Cynthia is his cousin; they get on very well.

Colress has long hair! It's mostly straight, but it does curl a bit at the ends. It falls to around his mid-back, but most people don't know about it because Colress usually ties it into a very low ponytail and stuffs it down the back of his shirt, along with brushing his fringe back.

Contrary to popular belief, his blue loopy is completely natural! Colour AND loop! It's a genetic quirk from his maternal side of the family.

Although absolutely terrible at looking after himself, Colress is absolutely amazing with children.

For whatever reason, Colress seems to trigger an instinctive feeling of safety in children. It's to the point where lost kids will approach him for help rather than the very-visible police officer.

On a particularly memorable occasion, Colress took a nap under the shade of a tree and woke up to being used as a pillow by a bunch of sleepy five-year olds.

Colress has quite the sweet tooth! Although fond of most sweets, his favourites are sherbet lemons.

He has been called a human Delcatty on several occasions. Colress didn’t understand why until Rosa showed him the 'Dex entries for said Pokémon.

He has quite a few scars, some larger than others. They're mostly from his experiments or machine mishaps, but he has a horizontal scar across his throat, courtesy of the Shadow Triad.

He is distressingly good at hiding his problems and/or when he needs help. The most notable instance of this was during his tenure as a scientist for Team Plasma. No one had picked up on the pit of apathy and loathing (directed both inwards and towards Plasma, especially Ghetsis) he had fallen into until Rosa all but kicked down his door and dragged the truth out of him.

He prefers to do the "Forehead Bonk of Love" to show Grimsley affection over kissing. He will, provided he's in the mood for it, but he greatly prefers the Forehead Bonk. Naturally, the Delcatty comparisons increased immensely.

Out of the entirety of Team Plasma, he only got on with (and liked) four of them: Aldith, Barret, Schwarz, and Weiss.

He struck up a delicate bond with Ghetsis' Hydreigon. Said Pokémon is now in his care and is basically a house pet. A very intimidating, very traumatised house pet, but a house pet nonetheless.

To Grimsley’s surprise, despite being abysmal at poker, Colress has a terrifying amount of luck when it comes to games that rely purely on luck. As in, win the roulette five times in a row lucky.

Grimsley jokingly calls him a lucky charm and has managed to coax Colress into joining him as an observer for his poker games in the hopes of his luck rubbing off on him. So far, the evidence is inconclusive.

Colress can't bake to save his life. The only baked good he can make is apple pie, and even then it has a 50-50 chance of going catastrophically wrong.

On the other hand, he is a brilliant cook!

Rosa sees him as a father figure, and he in turn sees her a daughter.

Colress LOVES plants. He's an avid gardener, and an anonymous someone keeps on entering him into gardening competitions. Not that he's complaining TOO much; the winnings provide some nice extra income.

It took a long time for him to stop flinching at the sound of someone walking with a cane.

Although very honest about what he did in Team Plasma, he is incredibly reluctant to reveal his personal experiences working for them. Looker can only assume they weren’t good; that scar along his throat is particularly telling.

Colress is actually a very anxious person; he's just very good at hiding it.

He gets on remarkably well with Looker. They inevitably butt heads over some things, but Colress can easily call the man a friend.

Despite being built like a noodle, Colress is stronger than he looks!

Colress used to babysit Lillie and Gladion for Lusamine, back when they were tiny.

He and Darach get along quite well. It's just that they're both so quiet and introverted that people think they're ignoring each other.

He and Lusamine bicker the most; it's usually friendly ribbing or silly spats, but sometimes things can turn nasty. They still love each other regardless.

Colress hums or quietly sings when he's happy during his work. The Frigate never had the luxury of hearing this.

When he squeaks, Colress can sound remarkably similar to squeaky Pokémon toys. On several occasions, Grimsley and Rosa have had to extract the man from underneath the fluffy excitement of their Houndoom and Arcanine.

He and Schwarz once made an unholy concoction they called "The Insomnia Shot". There's so much caffeine in it that only people with the highest tolerance can drink it, and only out of shot glasses. After being kept awake for four days, crashing, and sleeping for a week, the two vowed to never let its recipe see the light of day again.

I may add more as they occur to me.

They were fun to write, too!

#Colress #Headcanons #Pokemon Rosa #Grimsley #Team Plasma Aldith #Team Plasma Barret #Team Plasma Schwarz #Team Plasma Weiss #falsepretensesshipping #(A little bit anyway it's not the main focus here)#Pokemon Looker #Pokemon Cynthia #Lusamine #Pokemon Darach

57 notes · View notes

stellari-s · 2 years ago

Note

Okay, ajjajhajja, I am nervous to ask for this request because I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, so, that's okay if you decline, I understand-

I had this thought, so: Reader, but they are blind. Like, Helena's level blind, if not worse, and in one match, Ithaqua stumbles upon them, thinking that they'll be an easy catch, but! They are kiting like a beast, jumping, running, stunning

Maybe he'll proclaim them as his enemy? Y'now? The tension? 👀

✨

hi, anon, sorry for the delay! and no worries at all. i'm not uncomfy... in fact i really like getting requests! so i hope to receive more 🥹 i also hope you enjoy this and that it's at least somewhat worth the wait...!

request; yes, by anon! requests are basically always open, so feel free to send them to my inbox!

wc; 1 074.

tags; gn! survivor! reader, default! ithaqua, visually impaired reader, some small melly & norton interaction because i love bickering scenes, please teach me how to kite like this reader.

summary; it's been a while since your last match, when you suddenly are put into one now. there, a certain hunter rekindles your competitive spirit...

“it’s been a while since you saw this letter end up at your door.”

you can hear your friend, martha, lean against the door next to you as you brushed your fingertips across the paper. in different places were indents, somewhat like a code only known to you.

me, martha, melly, and norton.

“i hope i haven’t gotten too rusty,” you reply, “especially in running the hunter.”

“you did seem to have a penchant for being the first one chased.” martha’s tone is lighthearted, but you know there is some truth to those words.

“it was troublesome back then, but maybe i’ll have a new outlook after this break.”

“you’ll probably have to write that down in your diary later.”

“mhm.”

the match preparation room is located remotely from the rest of the manor - it’s a room attached to one of the corners of the otherwise large residence that could house many, many people. you struggle to see the details of the room with the amount of detail most of your teammates see it, but from what they describe, you know there are two sections of the room: one a long dining table with an ominous and mysterious window backdrop that occasionally shows a shadow of long, spindly arms with human hands silently moving about. on the opposite side is a curtain, behind which the hunter prepares for the match.

survivors like you never know which hunter they’re going to face each match, and at first it had made you nervous, but eventually you are able to relax more after playing so many matches. you have run into every hunter at least once so far, so you more or less know how to counter their moves and even predict what they may do next.

well, every hunter but one.

“i have a bad feeling,” norton comments with a somewhat sour expression, crossing his arms, “i swear, if i have to fight against that damn wind storm again-” he cuts himself off, but you have a sense of what he was going to say.

melly lets out a small hmph. “if that happens, i’ll help you out. i wouldn’t mind you being in my debt. in fact it would work quite well in my favor.”

“oh, shut up, your bees are the last thing i want to see and hear.”

you are initially nervous for this match, for multiple reasons, but upon hearing melly and norton’s friendly bickering, you feel a little more relaxed by the time you find yourself on sacred heart hospital’s second floor, from what your feet can feel.

did norton mention something about wind? is that related to this new hunter?

if that’s the case, it might be a good idea to stick to places with higher walls. perhaps near the ruins, the shack, or here near the hospital, where there are large, wide gates just outside.

for a little bit, you survey your surroundings for good measure, walking around and “marking” obstacles in your mind and where they are. you then make your way toward a cipher machine, but when you hear the sound of footsteps coming from the staircase just outside, your heart starts to clench, screaming warnings at your mind.

you can tell more or less where the hunter is because the floor is hard, so his footsteps make a lot of noise. for good measure, you slam a pallet down early as a gust of wind takes your breath away, sucking you in toward the hunter.

“found you!” the hunter says, his voice possessing a slightly singsong quality. you can feel another gust of wind flow past you toward the hunter. this is good: some hunters are more “sneaky”, making it harder for you to run them with you not being able to see well, but with this one, you can use the direction of the wind to give you information.

you can make it work.

jumping down to the second floor, you hit him with the pallet on the hospital’s first floor before making your way just outside.

you try looping him around the wall, but he eventually makes it to the same side as you. with the wind, he hinders your ability to run, and you have to give him a hit.

but that is all you’re willing to give.

five ciphers becomes four.

another stun.

four to three ciphers left.

you nearly get hit from accidentally bumping into the ruin walls, but you vault in the nick of time.

two ciphers left.

the hunter uses that ability again, but you are already near a window. you vault over it and run perpendicular to the current.

one more to go.

for one moment, you run toward him, but quickly turn back. you manage a juke, giving you a second to create a bit more distance.

only when all ciphers are done does he finally land another hit on you. this one is harder than the last one, causing you to rub your back and hiss in pain.

“would it hurt to be a little more gentle...?” you mutter, trying to crawl.

the hunter nimbly picks you up on balloons. “you ran me the entire match and you want me to be gentle?”

“call it a stroke of luck,” you reply, watching as he takes you down to the basement. you don’t bother struggling. “by the way, what is that weapon? i can’t see very well.”

“you can’t see very well, so i thought you wouldn’t last this long.”

“i can’t see very well, but that doesn’t mean my other senses are also impaired.”

“i’ll keep that in mind.” he goes downstairs and chairs you in the innermost corner. “and every time we meet i’ll make sure you’re down at five ciphers.”

“then when we meet here on after, let us see who lady luck favors then.” you give him a small smile: an acceptance of the challenge in his words.

the chair starts spinning, quickly increasing in speed and making you dizzy in turn. the chair descends underground, taking you back to the manor, leaving you quite nauseous in the end.

at least your teammates could make it out though.

it’s been a while since you last participated in a match, so you had thought you lost your competitive spirit. but this match has clearly proven otherwise.

as long as you two consider each other enemies, you have no intention to let this hunter win.

61 notes · View notes

kickflipped · 6 months ago

Text

Is that Mark Lee? Oh, no, that’s Kitae Park, a twenty-four year old professional skateboarder (on hiatus) & lifeguard on Golden Beach Street who uses he/him pronouns. They currently live in Vina del Mar, and the character they identify with most is Spongebob from Spongebob Squarepants. Hopefully they find their own little paradise here in el país de los poetas!

𝒊. dossier.

FULL NAME kitae “kit” park AGE 24 GENDER cis man PRONOUNS he/him ORIENTATION bisexual OCCUPATION professional skateboarder on a health hiatus / lifeguard at golden beach street BIRTHPLACE mokpo, south korea CURRENT RESIDENCE chile. HAIR black, messy cut EYES brown, large, round HEIGHT five foot nine / 175 cm TATTOOS the text “no wings needed” on his left shoulder blade PIERCINGS earlobes SCARS a collection of them on his legs, especially right leg

PHOBIAS slightly claustrophobic DRUGS + ALCOHOL y / y CURRENTLY WATCHING hunter x hunter chimera ant arc CURRENTLY LISTENING imagine dragons / linkin park / kenshi yonezu / day6 SOCIAL MEDIA tiktok - shares clips of his coolest tricks and also cringe fails, moderate-large number of followers, has not been active in a year

𝒊𝒊. history.

cw: leg injury mention / divorce mention

kit loves skateboarding. it's the one thing he's good at, been good at since he'd picked up a board at the impressionable age of nine. since childhood, his parents' relationship had been strained - always teetering on the edge of divorce, with explosive fights tearing up their small apartment in mokpo, south korea every night.

he finds refuge in the skate park, pours a little too much of his time there. it becomes a second home when home is too uncomfortable, even more so when his parents finally bite the bullet and cut each other loose, leaving him floundering in the middle.

for a while, he goes back and forth between mom and dad. they live in different cities; his dad remarries quickly - quick enough that it rubs him the wrong way. kit doesn't make his displeasure known during the wedding, only letting it loose in the half-pipe where he brute-forces his way through learning a new trick, knees and elbows skinned.

friends he makes at the park push him towards the pro path and it quickly becomes clear that he's good at it. like, really good. if the amount of time he was spending on this sport was excessive before, it becomes his whole life now. medals and trophies quickly adorn his shelves when he gets his own place, and his parents separately praise him for his achievements. sometimes they even come watch, both of them on opposite sides of the stands like they'd discussed beforehand a careful distance - his father with his new wife and his mother with her work friends, and kit splits his time between the two of them post-competition, having two celebratory dinners.

it's fucking exhausting. if kit isn't careful his existence becomes yet another point of contention. he's spending more time with mom, of course he loves mom more - and now dad's acting all cold, and his new wife looks uncomfortable, and kit pours even more of his time into skateboarding because it's the one place where he feels like he's free and unburdened.

then comes the injury, which... well. no skating for half a year sounds like a death sentence. kit shrugs it off. he ignores his doctor's advice and gets back in the half-pipe way too soon, which leads into injury number two, which is a lot worse than the first one. it's so much worse that he's pulled from the upcoming olympics.

ironically enough, the first time he sees his mother and father in the same room since their divorce is when he's in the hospital, leg wrapped in bandages - and even then they argue.

𝒊𝒊𝒊. currently...

post-injury, kit moves to chile to live with his aunt and uncle (from his mother's side). it's a move supported by his various therapists, for the fresh air and surroundings. he's ignoring his parents rn he has both of their numbers blocked for peace of mind!

right now, he's coping with the summer olympics coming up (that he'd had to pull out of), doing physical therapy, and trying to find supplemental meaning in life.

working as a lifeguard (position courtesy of his uncle, who'd pulled some strings for him) - but don't catch him doing much at the job besides reading and occasionally blowing his whistle. he does not care fr

he still gets away with skating sometimes, just lightly and casually. no tricks. sometimes he'll go to popular skater spots just to watch wistfully.

ceo of saying "it is what it is" "fuck it we ball" "well on the bright side..."

can come off as gratingly cheerful at times (he tries really hard to seem happy, content, and optimistic) but after he runs out of stamina he has a tendency to snap and do a complete 180.

#*𖤐 𝗄𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗳𝗹𝗶𝗽 ⋆ ( muse .ᐟ )#valpohqintro #no wc yet bc i got tired but!! i have lots of ideas in my brain!! cant wait to plot w u all soon!!!

6 notes · View notes

ninjastormhawkkat · 2 years ago

Note

Liam tapped his foot impaitently. He was waiting for chase or at least his parents to answer. After standing there for nearly 30 minutes and no response he was getting irradiated. why invite someone over and not answer the door?

His brain thought back to the events that lead him here in the first place. Group assignments from school. The 12 year old had preferred if he had a choice to work on it himself. Especially being paired up with his sometimes but not quite enemy, Chase Boxlietner.

as much as he hated it, the teacher threatened them with a failing grade. Liam didn't care much about getting one D or F on his report card but knowing how dissapointed his dad would be made him reconsider it.

He ranged the doorbell once more knowing that if he knocked on the door he may punch a hole through it.

Liam was taken aback by the sounds of rushing footsteps coming to the door. The door was immediately pulled open to reveal a rather out of breath Chase Boxleitner. "Hey Liam." Chase waved awkwardly. "Sorry I temporarily forgot you were coming over to work on our assignment." The boy said in rushed, but genuinely apologetic voice. Liam was still upset about having to wait outside of his rival's house. "Why was i kept waiting out here for more than 30 minutes?" Liam asked in a stoic yet angry voice. Chase gulped a bit, not wanting to deal with Liam's angry side right now. "My mom had to work late at the veterinary clinic and dad is attending one of Becky's debate competitions right now." Chase began to explain. "So it was my job to keep an eye on Blu until my parents came back. We were playing hide and seek and I was looking for her when I heard you knocking and remembered about the class assignment." Liam rolled his eyes, even though he did not feel Chase's excuse was a good one, the boy understood that Blu Boxleitner can be a handful sometimes and needed to be constantly looked after or something disastrous would happen. So Liam decided to accept Chase's explanation for now. Chase welcomed the other boy inside his house. "You need to finish up your silly game with your sister. We need to start getting this dumb project out of they way so I don't have to spend any longer here in your presence." Liam stated with an annoyed huff. Chase just rolled his eyes at the boy, he was used to Liam's mean comments by now. "Alright, let me just get Blu and tell her the game is over." Chase responded. A giggle from somewhere turned both boys' heads towards the basement door of Chase's house. "Oh great." Chase mumbled with worry. "She snuck into dad's lab again. I just hope she didn't bring that stupid mouse with her." Chase grumbled as he headed towards the basement door, opened it up, and headed downstairs. Liam was a bit puzzled by Chase's remarks. For as long as he noticed, the Boxleitner family seemed to have two pets, a monkey and a mouse called Squeaky. Chase and his sister Becky, as well as their father seemed to have an intense hatred towards the mouse despite still keeping it in their home. Liam knew Chase's father was once a villain so he just asked his own father about the mouse since he used to work with Chase's dad as villains. Amazing Rope Guy wasn't sure of the full story between Steven and Squeaky, he just knew from rumors and here say that the mouse gave Chase's dad and his kids grief back when they were fused together and went by the name Dr. Two Brains. Liam shook his head and came back to reality. He decided to follow Chase to the basement to provide help to the boy for dealing with his sister so they could get this project over and done with. Also Liam naturally assumed that Chase wouldn't be able to handle any real responsibility here without his help.

@melodythebunny

33 notes · View notes

sawtastic-sideblog · 1 year ago

Text

'Dear Lawrence,

It's been two years, three months, and twenty six days or eight hundred and forty eight days. The guilt is manageable but still eats away at me everyday. I cry to get the emotions out, but only in the shower. I don't want the others to hear me.

John is having us watch a lawyer. I only take the pictures. I never grab the test subjects or help with John's games. Mark and Amanda do that.

Speaking of them I suspect something more going on. I can't prove it but I think they're having hate sex. With as much as they fight it just seems likely. John seems to think so too. He confides in me. It's probably because I still don't talk.

I talk to you sometimes. Only when I'm alone. I whisper into the void and hope my message will get to you. Wherever you may be.

Anyway, back to the game. The guy, Westley Edgar, lives near where you, Alison, and Diana lived. They don't live there anymore. I know where they live, though, and sometimes I'll check in on them. I try to once a month. Diana has grown up so much. She looks like her mother, but she has your eyes. Alison is doing good. She is casually seeing a guy, but I don't think it will go anywhere. Both are still working through losing you. I am too.

I'm still bad at staying on track, but the almost eight hundred and fifty other letters could have told you that.

This Edgar guy gets the bad guys out of the really bad sentences and a few have even go free. John believes it's injustice. It'll be Edgar playing the game with some of the guys he let go or something. I'm not sure.

As I always say, I miss you. I hope you can forgive me. One day. Maybe.

Your friend,

Adam'

Adam closes the journal and hides it in the top of his closet. As he does, a knock sounds from the door. He slightly panics and goes to grab a jacket from a hanger as the door opens.

"You ready? John wants those pictures of Edgar's wife by tomorrow," Mark asks. Adam nods and pulls on the jacket as he walks toward the door, closing it as he walks out. Mark leads the way to the workshop.

"We're off. We'll be back by five in the morning."

"Don't get caught," John says, not looking up from the contraption he's tinkering with. Mark nods and walks out of the door on the far side of the workshop. Adam follows him to the car and they get in.

"You gonna talk tonight?" Mark asks as he parks the car. Adam looks at him with a neutral face. Mark nods before saying, "Thought so. Why don't you talk?"

Adam just shrugs and turns in his seat to grab his camera from the back seat. When he gets situated in the seat with his camera set up, he sends a text to Mark.

'Did you bring food?'

"No, I did not bring food. I plan on walking down to the convenience store later. Just to have something to do. Unless you need something now?"

Adam shakes his head and holds up a water bottle. Adam pulls up the Netflix app on his phone and turns on the show he and Mark had been watching together. Some kind of glass blowing competition. It seems to shut Mark up and Adam finds it interesting that such beautiful pieces can be made from sand.

The night goes on without a hitch. Mark went and got them food around midnight and Adam got enough photos for John to use. As the pair pull up to the workshop, they notice another car.

"Whose car is that?" Mark asks. Adam shrugs and gets out of the car. With arms full of equipment and left over snacks, Mark and Adam walk into the workshop. "I don't need help. Thanks though."

"Didn't ask. Don't care," Amanda says from where she sits, sketching what looks to be some kind of head cage.

"Not even about Adam?"

"Especially Adam," Amanda quips before standing and glaring at the men. "I don't get why he gets special treatment. Because he won't talk? Because we have to treat him like Lassie? What is it boy? What is it? Little Timmy fall in the well again?"

As Amanda speaks, she pats her legs and pitches her voice higher to taunt Adam.

"Amanda," John's voice echoes around the large space. Amanda turns on her heel.

"What? You treat him differently than me," Amanda's arms are wide.

"I do not and don't argue. Mark and Adam have had a long night, I'm sure. So, why don't we let them go rest and you can start on the plan to get the subjects here."

Adam goes to the red room that John had set up for him and sets the camera equipment down.

"Whose car is that?" Mark asks as Adam makes his way across the workshop floor.

"An old friend," is John's only reply before he walks off toward Amanda. Adam grabs himself a glass of water and downs the whole thing before walking down the hallway to his room.

As he nears the door, he notices that it's open. He stills and presses himself against the wall. Carefully, he peeks around his doorframe and his eyes fall upon a cane leaning against the foot of the bed, then a pair of brown shoes, the right leg straightened out and the left slightly tucked beneath the desk chair where a figure sits. Adam's gaze falls upon his journal in the hands of the person in his room. Not just any journal. The first one he started writing in after he got here. The one that bares all his thoughts and feelings of losing Lawrence, waking up in John Kramer's lair, the one where he learns to breathe again.

Adam doesn't look at the person's before he strides into the room and rips the journal from the hands of the intruder and holds it to his chest as he turns away. He takes a deep breath and walks to his closet where he quickly opens the door and shoves the journal on the shelf before closing the door again. He stands there head against the door as he processes the emotions of some random guy reading his most private thoughts.

A hand on his shoulder causes him to jump. He hunches his shoulders and tries to cave in on himself, begging the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"I've missed you too, Adam," the intruder's voice is familiar. Adam's eyes widen as he turns around to face the man before him.

"Lawrence?"

#part 3 #I really don't know why I keep writing this but it's fun I guess #leigh whannell #cary elwes #saw fanfic #saw 2004 #saw franchise #adam stanheight #lawrence gordon #john kramer #amanda young #mark hoffman #tobin bell #shawnee smith #costas mandylor

12 notes · View notes

insomniac-jay · 8 months ago

Text

Hostile Takeover [Rolebel]

Synopsis: The son must rise above his father by any means necessary.

Relationship(s): Roland Judge/Jezebel Morningstar, background Oleander Judge/Patti Monroe, Roland Judge & Oleander Judge, Roland Judge & Archibald Judge

Additional tags: Jezebel told Roland to traumatize his dad back

Jezebel rarely spent time on earth, even after she got married. It was redundant to when both her father and most of her sisters were already there and thriving. Jezebel's place was with the Hell born, and preferred to keep it that way.

Besides, she didn't wage a whole war against her father, Satan himself, for total control of Hell to drop everything she'd ever worked for to spend the rest of her immortal life amongst humans. It only took her to look away once for some opportunistic Demon to try and usurp her.

So whatever she was currently on the surface for had to be especially interesting for her to put her royal duties on pause for a few hours.

"You're paying a lot of attention to the TV." Roland rested his head on her lap. He didn't even try to not sound jealous. "What's so interesting, anyway?"

"Hush."

Jezebel's eyes narrowed as the business report came on. On the screen appeared a picture with the familiar face of Archibald Judge, Roland's father. She closely listened to the report about the recent acquisition of a few companies.

Roland didn't have to look at the TV to know the report was about his father. Not that he cared for him anymore; him leaving Roland at his uncle Oleander's doorstep and only coming to his wedding to deliver a card told him everything he needed to know about his father's feelings toward him. Besides, Oleander was more of a father to him.

He also knew Jezebel didn't care much for Archibald, so why was she suddenly interested?

"....Judge says he expects no competition or challenge to his business."

A devilish smirk came to Jezebel's face, a plan brewing in her mind.

"So he expects no one to challenge him?"

Roland turned on his side. "He always says that. He buys out his competition to the point where they have no choice but to give up."

Jezebel stroked his hair. "That's because his competition is too predictable. He's become overly reliant on the fact that no one will ever play him at his own game."

Roland raised an eyebrow. "What are you saying, Jezebel?"

"I'm saying, my little birdie, that I've done my part in elevating you. Now, you must do the same for both me and yourself."

She was right. Becoming King of Hell was the most surreal experience in his life. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine himself as the ruler of all Demons yet here he was. Jezebel was already the most powerful Demon in all of Hell but wasn't satisfied with it.

The question was how was his father involved with this?

"Don't make me spell it out for you, birdie." Jezebel cupped his chin. "What's the worst thing that could happen to a businessman your father's level?"

"A lot of things. Lawsuits, bankruptcy, and..." His eyes widened when he realized where his wife was getting at. "Are you serious?!"

Jezebel nodded. When had he ever known her to bluff? She spoke with such honesty that she could've been confused for an Angel. "Archibald will never see it coming."

A million thoughts were running through Roland's head. Business wasn't his strong suit; even if he was molded to be the perfect heir. "But where will we get the money? Going up against my dad is a death wish."

"I'll provide you with the money, but it ultimately you who must do this, Roland."

"In recent news: Roland Judge has publicly announced his intentions to acquire Judge Conglomerate. His offer currently stands at $20.8 billion."

Oleander's mouth straightened. Him and Archibald didn't have a good relationship at all; strained more by the fact that the elder Judge brother left Roland on Oleander's doorstep and disappeared and never came back for the young boy. Last thing he expected was for Roland to want anything to do with Archibald--which was the worrying part.

"What's wrong, sugar?" Patti gently rubbed his shoulders.

"Roland's gunning for Archibald's company."

Patti was just as surprised as he was. "He is? I thought he didn't want anything to do with him or anything business related?"

"Me too..." What was Roland's real plan? And who was really pulling the strings?

Roland's battle for the business intensified over the week. Everyday his offer got higher and his tactics were aggressive. As expected, Archibald fought back just as hard. He even called Roland to tell him he'd rather die than let the company ever fall into his hands. Felt good to know he was still the same power hungry, money loving deadbeat from when he was younger.

Little did Archibald know, Roland had an ace up his sleeve.

Fighting wasn't something Roland got off on--that was reserved for his love of professional racing--however, battling his father awakened something deep inside him. A rush unlike any he'd had before. Hearing him so frustrated, seeing him scrambling to strengthen his defenses, it brought Roland back to that fateful day.

"Having fun, birdie?" Jezebel cupped his chin, running her nail along his jawline.

"I am. Something about getting the better of him is so...satisfying," Roland replied. Was this what revenge felt like? Catharsis? His mind felt clear, more confident than his usual self. The world, both earth and Hell, was in his palm--and he had no intentions of letting either of them go.

Jezebel smirked. Her idea was a success.

"Good because your takeover was successful."

@mayameanderings

#jay's writings #otp: even the devil has lovers #ship: rolebel #dc: south

2 notes · View notes

qvid-pro-qvo · 2 years ago

Text

home for the holidays

pairings: bradley bradshaw x jake seresin x natasha trace, pete mitchell x tom kazansky, robert floyd x javy machado

word count: 2603

rating: e for everyone, because who doesn't love some friendly competition? special thanks to @duchesschameleon for sending me the tiktok that inspired it all.

nicky is the star of the final game of the Bradshaw-Seresin-Trace Holiday Bash. uncles and aunts, grandfathers, and parents are all invited to play, but who will reign supreme?

link to ao3.

Jake shows Natasha the video with a wicked grin on his face, eyes bright as Bradley shakes his head behind him.

“C’mon,” he urges, “it’ll be fun . Don’t you want to see who he’d pick?”

“I don’t want fists thrown at a holiday get-together,” Natasha shoots back, eyes carefully watching Nicky in the front room as he stacks the letter and number blocks with intense focus. Bradley has the same look, when he furrows his brows. The sight of it gets filed away with the other memories she keeps close to her chest. “It’s gonna be nightmare enough having all of us in one place, and hosting for crying out loud.”

But Jake doesn’t relent. The video loops, and Bradley snorts as he hears the cheers of the family.

“Nat,” he urges. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to see who’d win.” And then he grins. Smirks as he stands up straight. “Especially since it’ll be me.”

And that, that’s a challenge. One that gets Bradley ooh-ing and turning to look at the both of them.

“Jake, them’s fighting words,” he points out, and Natasha’s arms cross over her chest. Bradley stirs the pot, and Jake smiles bright as he moves to stand on the other side of Bradley and steals a taste of the soup he’s working on.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” he hums, nodding his head. “Yes, ma’am. And they taste good, don’t they?”

His little wink is what pushes her over the edge, and she laughs even as her eyes narrow at him. “All right, Seresin. You’re on!” Natasha says, reaching out to pinch the man’s side. He yelps a little, but laughs as Natasha starts to chase him around the island. “What’s wrong, Jake? Always can dish it, but never can take it!”

“Nicky, help Papa!” he shouts, rushing toward the living room toward the tree and menorah where they sit side by side. Nicky looks up at the sound of his name, still-gummy smile and bright giggle loud as Jake scoops him up and holds him out as a shield from Natasha. “Help Papa! Get Mama!”

And even though she’s playing angry and gives them both a playful growl as she chases them through the house, she knows the sight of them, Jake and Nicky with bright matching grins with Bradley’s laugh behind her, is another memory to get filed away.

“All right, does everyone know the rules?” Jake calls out.

It’s the final game of the evening, after lots of mirth and merriment. The game of dreidel sits unattended, empty advent calendars pulled open way before their time for the chocolates inside. Natasha holds Nicky on her hip, adjusting the beanie on his head until it’s secure over his ears.

“Is cheating allowed?” Javy asks, as Bob smirks beside him and tilts his head. Their shared look spells only trouble for the rest of them, and Natasha glances toward Nicky, who chews on the new toy truck from the two of them. “I mean. Not that we would.”

“We would never,” Bob says, grinning. They step together and their bodies hide their hands behind their back. “We're good sports.”

“I think cheating should be allowed. And if cheating’s allowed, it should be encouraged,” Mav chimes in, standing beside Bradley with a mug of cocoa in his hand. “I mean, only fair for the ones of us who aren’t the favorite grandpa.”

Ice’s smirk flickers across his face, and he glances at his husband with a raised brow. When his eyes meet Natasha’s he signs for her as Mav moves to take his position in line. Favorite is a relative term, he tells her. And I think Bob is hiding more toys.

“Cheating isn’t allowed… if you’re caught,” Bradley says, looking around the group. He moves close to Nat and pulls down Nicky’s beanie just a tad more, giving him a little kiss on the cheek as the others give a little laugh.

Amelia doesn’t speak, simply raises a brow as she eyes Jake. Jake looks at her right back, a silent standoff before a shared nod. Penny sees the same thing Nat sees from where she’s standing and just rolls her eyes, meeting Natasha’s gaze before nodding toward her daughter.

“She gets her competitive nature from her mother,” she admits, “though I’m not a fan of this… alliance I’m seeing.”

“They seem pretty confident,” Natasha admits, as her partner moves to clear a safe space for Nicky to toddle. “But I wouldn’t be too sure about the outcome. Nicky is full of surprises.”

The tournament standings are drawn, a bracket made. The line is created, and the first two step up to bat. Penny and Bob kneel next to each other, and Natasha brings Nicky over a few feet away, smiling as the two of them put on their biggest grins. Nicky immediately starts babbling and squirming as his feet hit the ground, and the crowd gathers around with little cheers.

“Three,” Natasha starts to count down. Her hands hold Nicky’s waist as he giggles and starts pulling at her grip. “Two. One. Go, Nicky!”

Cheers erupt around them. Nicky starts toddling, slow at first, and then faster, the cheers getting louder and louder until he stumbles into Penny’s arms. The whoops erupt, and Nicky whips around at the sound, clapping as everyone else does.

“Damn,” Bob says, frowning a little. “I really thought the truck would help.”

“I don’t know how good a three-year-old’s memory is,” Javy consoles him, wrapping an arm around him as he stands and moves away. “But we tried.”

Mav and Javy kneel next, much to Bradley’s delight.

“You sure you can get up again, old-timer?” he calls to him, and Mav just glares.

“I’m gonna get up victorious,” he shoots back, starting to wave his hands. “Hey, bud! C’mere, buddy!”

Suddenly, Bob slinks around to Javy’s side. In his hands is the truck that Nicky was chewing on, and he holds it over Javy’s head. Immediately Nicky giggles and starts clapping, and when Nat counts down, he darts toward Javy and Bob.

“Wait, Nicky!” Mav shouts. “Wait, no!”

“Yeah, Nicky!” Amelia laughs, and suddenly Nicky is in Javy’s arms as he lets out a shout of triumph.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Jake says with a grin, and Mav sits on his knees with a look of pure defeat.

“Nicky,” Mav groans, head falling to his chest. “Nicky, I thought - I thought we had something.”

“Even a grandfather can’t beat the appeal of the truck ,” Natasha chuckles, moving to rub gently at Mav’s back as he stands. “It’s all right, you’ll get ‘em next time.”

“You said cheating was encouraged,” Bob points out, holding Nicky next as he immediately puts his mouth on the truck with delight. “And so we simply follow the direction of our captain.”

Amelia and Bradley take positions next, and Jake starts to slowly move around the group.

“Oh, no!” Bradley shouts, pointing at his partner with narrowed eyes. “Don’t try to be slick, Seresin, I know you and her are teamed up. One dad at a time.”

“Honey, I know of no such thing,” Jake retorts, but before he can get to Amelia’s back Nat lets Nicky onto his feet.

“Three, two, one!”

Nicky sways for a second, and Nat follows him as he gets his bearing. He looks between both of the people before stumbling to the right and then to the left, almost pitching into Amelia, who laughs with delight before falling directly into Bradley’s arms.

“Dada,” he coos, burying his neck into Bradley’s arms.

Amelia just sighs, glaring at Jake over Nat’s shoulder as Bradley kisses his son over and over. “You couldn’t have been a little quicker?”

“I know, I know,” Jake sighs, rubbing his face. “My bad, Ames.”

The final pair, Jake and Ice, share a handshake before settling to their knees, but Jake’s smile of triumph shines bright.

Don’t be too quick to gloat, son , Ice signs to Jake, and Mav smirks as he translates.

“Nicky knows where his loyalties lie,” Jake says. “We had a heart-to-heart before we started.”

Jake and Ice both grin as they settle down, Ice taking a moment longer before holding out his arms. One more countdown, and the toddler is off, giggling before falling to his hands and knees and crawling.

At first it looks close. He goes in a straight line, almost splitting the gap, but then Nicky pushes up with his hands to toddle again, and he falls right into Ice’s arms.

There is stunned silence from them all, and then an eruption of cheers. Ice offers his hand to shake as Nicky is held against him, but Jake is shocked into a silence of his own.

“You think you know,” he says. “My own son.”

“You forget who watches Lion King with him. Movie nights on Grandpa Ice’s lap are very persuasive,” Natasha points out, as Nicky shows Ice the truck he has refused to let go of. He waves it to him, and Ice nods and presses a kiss to Nicky’s hair. “All right, that’s the first round!”

The second round goes by quick – Penny beats Javy, even with the truck trick once again being used. Ice and Bradley square up a little, but once again Nicky shows a preference for his grandpa, who only looks a little smug at the realization.

“I know,” Jake says, holding Bradley against him as he sighs with his defeat, more than a little dramatic. “I know.” When they kiss, Jake fakes a sniffle and wipes at the corner of his eyes. “Our son is a traitor. I don’t know how we’ll recover.”

The second-to-last round has bets made and taken. Bob, Javy, and Bradley stand with Penny, while Mav, Jake, and Amelia move to Ice, cheering him on.

“Amelia,” Penny says. “We’ve seen enough betrayal of parents today, haven’t we?”

“Sorry, Mom,” she calls back, laughing as she high-fives Jake. “I think the admiral gets a clean sweep.”

Natasha stands once more in front of the competitors, definitely two of Nicky’s favorite people. She gently removes the truck from his hands, and when his eyes alight on them, his smile is unmatched, fist moving to his mouth as he giggles.

“Three…”

Ice leans down.

“Two…”

Penny opens her arms with a bright smile.

“One!”

Nicky is released, and the cheers start up immediately. Ice’s group pumps their fists while Penny’s group calls to Nicky. But ultimately, it’s Ice’s bright, joyous smile that wins him over, as he claps and claps and calls out “Pop-pee!” before landing in his arms. His laugh is warm and a rumble in his chest, and no one feels particularly bad as he slowly stands with Nicky in his arms, who starts to reach for his glasses as soon as he can.

“Our victor!” Mav cheers, moving to stand by his husband’s side. With a kiss to his cheek, he wraps his arm around him, reaching out for Nicky who reaches back and grabs at his nose. “And a handsome one at that.”

“Whoa, now!” Jake calls out, as money is exchanged. “There’s still one more round.” Bradley shares a smile with him, and then he’s moving to Ice, gently taking Nicky away from his grandfathers. “After all, Mama still hasn’t played, has she?”

Natasha just looks at her partners with disbelief, smirking as the two of them move to take her spot in front of the cleared lanes. “I thought I was the referee during these proceedings,” she says, watching as Nicky is carried by Bradley to the starting line, while Natasha is urged by Jake to stand next to Ice.

“The Iceman’s final test,” Javy laughs, as he and Bob move to sit next to each other on the couch. “Two parents down, one to go.”

Mav chuckles as Ice looks at him. “You’re up, baby,” he says, squeezing Ice’s fingers. “One more go.”

The group splits again. Jake proudly stands at Natasha’s side, Mav beside Ice, and the others scattered around. Nicky’s truck sits, discarded, as for the first time, Nicky frowns at the two in front of him.

“Uh-oh,” Penny says, chuckling. “That boy is thinking hard.”

“Three,” Bradley starts.

“Who’s it gonna be?” Amelia sings a little, letting her mom pull her against her side.

“Two.” Nicky’s feet touch the ground, and Bradley holds his son as his eyes go a little wide. “And… go!”

The raucous cheers go up one more time. Nat and Ice kneel beside each other, but for the first time, Nicky seems to hesitate. His lower lip pouts out, and he falls to his bottom, before going to his hands and knees.

And then, he’s off. Crawling, crawling, faster and faster, and all eyes are on him as he goes, and goes, and goes…

Straight into Natasha’s arms.

The eruption of laughter and delight is the loudest it’s been all night. Natasha scoops up her son with a bright grin, holding him close to her as he says a soft “mama” and wraps his arms around her neck.

“It wasn’t even close,” Jake crows, moving to kiss Natasha firmly and hold her against his side. “Our victor, by a landslide –”

“And the runner-up, who swept the rest of the competition,” Bradley laughs, reaching for Ice’s hand and lifting it above his head. Everyone else gives a clap and a celebratory shout, and Nicky finally settles in for the night on his mom’s hip, all tuckered out from the fun and games.

“Think it’s movie time?” Bob asks from the couch. Everyone turns to face him, and see his legs stretched across Javy’s lap. “I mean, not that we’re settled in or anything.”

“Right,” Amelia laughs, rolling her eyes before claiming her own spot on the floor with a blanket she steals from behind Bob. “I say we do the claymation ones.”

“An excellent choice, Ames,” Jake says, giving her another high-five. “Though I will say I’m partial to Home Alone.”

“Isn’t that a little violent for a toddler?” Bradley asks, frowning a little as he comes in from the kitchen.

Penny stands with him, the two of them holding enough mugs for all. “And is anyone not a fan of peppermint hot cocoa? We have plain, too.”

“I think the toddler is gonna be asleep sooner rather than later,” Natasha tells them, gently patting Nicky’s back as he buries his face into her shoulder. “Happy holidays to Mama.”

“Well, he can’t go to sleep without today’s present,” Mav says, reaching for the truck in the middle of the carpet. “Here you go, bud. You wanna watch Rudolph?”

The truck is quickly pulled close, and Natasha laughs, holding her son against her with a smile. When she pulls back a little, his truck is offered to her, and she gladly takes it, making a motor noise with her mouth before driving it in the air for him as he giggles with delight, even with his sleepy eyes and furrowed brow that look so much like Bradley, his laughter that sounds so much like Jake.

The claymation ones win out. Everyone finds a spot, and Nicky does end up on Ice’s lap, the two of them snoozing on a recliner as everyone else sips their cocoa. And while Nat curls up between her partners, her eyes can’t help but linger on the family they’ve made. Her mind can’t help but wonder what future holidays might bring. And if it's more of this, the people she loves most gathered around in a place they can all call home, well...

Natasha thinks she can handle that.

23 notes · View notes