#may your drinks drown out your sorrows friends

[ilovedrinks]

What a time to have an intox kink eh

[just-aake]

Detecting Love

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.

Warnings: fluff, light angst

Words: 6169

You have the power to detect lies. 

Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life. 

Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.

People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.

And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power. 

Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.

Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.

There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.

There was no cheating.

There was no fighting.

It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.

That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.

It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.

These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.

Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.

You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you. 

It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends. 

And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place. 

You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.

At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.

With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.

Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it. 

Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.

She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.

“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.

She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.

She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”

Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.

The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.

“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”

Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar. 

“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.

Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.

However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward. 

A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.

There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.

Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.

“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”

You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.

Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull. 

Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.

Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.

Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.

Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.

A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.

“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.

Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur. 

You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.

Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.

Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…? 

“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.

At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.

“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.

Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.

“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”

Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.

“You’re lying.”

Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions. 

The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.

“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously. 

At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.

However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support. 

As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you. 

When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.

The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building. 

What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.

Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.

“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”

She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.

“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”

After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes. 

Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.

You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.

“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.

She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”

“How did you…?”

She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering. 

Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.

Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus. 

After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.

“I told you yesterday,” she replies.

You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.

“Remind me again.”

Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat. 

“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”

Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”

“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”

Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.

So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible. 

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”

A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.

You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.

But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.

“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes. 

“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.

Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her. 

“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge. 

“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”

Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.

If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.

Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.

“Fine, what do you know?” 

Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression. 

Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.

As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.

“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.

“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.

Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”

“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.

Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” 

The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.

“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks. 

The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence. 

If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.

After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.

“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”

Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding. 

“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”

“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.

“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”

From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.

However, thanks to your ability, you know better. 

Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”

Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.

“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?” 

You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”

“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”

“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”

Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.

You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight. 

For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.

After a moment, you break the silence this time.

“So, what’s the job?” 

Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.

“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”

“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings. 

“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”

At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.

“That’s confidential.”

You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.

“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”

Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.

“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”

“People like you?” 

“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”

You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.

“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”

A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.

Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.

Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.

“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”

At her words, you pause to consider your options. 

A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life. 

Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.

Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory. 

You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.

At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement. 

“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”

“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.

A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.

You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.

“Liar.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms. 

Still, the impact has you stumbling back.

“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”

A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again. 

You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.

Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors. 

At least you used to.

This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.

With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.

You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.

You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.

“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.

Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.

“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.

“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”

Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.

“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.

“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.

It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.

Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.

Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.

Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.

You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.

Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger. 

After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.

However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.

Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.

But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.

With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.

Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.

“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.

Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.

Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.

“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."

Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.

“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.

“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”

Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.

Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”

“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.

Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”

You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.

She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.

“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”

You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.

But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”

You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.

“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”

You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“What’s this?”

Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.

She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.

Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.

“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”

Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.

Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer. 

As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.

You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.

Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship? 

“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts. 

Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.

After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.

Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.

“No, of course not,” you tell her.

As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.

After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.

“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.

Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Of course, I will.”

Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.

After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.

A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.

A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.

To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself. 

“I’m in love with her…”

Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.

“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.

Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.

She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”

You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.

“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”

Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.

Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.

“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”

There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.

“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”

You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.

A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.

“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.

You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”

“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”

She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”

Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”

When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side. 

“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”

She swats your hand away.

“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”

A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.

“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.

“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.

Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.

“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.

Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.

“I’m in love with her.”

Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.

Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze. 

A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews. 

With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.

"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"

The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.

Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.

However, now comes the final question of the interview.

“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”

Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?” 

Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.

“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”

After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."

Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.

"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.

As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.

With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.

“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.

Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.

You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”

Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.

“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.

“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.

Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.

“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.

Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."

"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.

Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.

"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.

Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.

“Name?” you begin.

Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.

“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.

“Natalie,” you mock.

Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.

Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.

“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.

“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.

“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”

This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."

As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.

By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.

"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.

Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.

“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.

After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.

“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.

“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.

“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.

Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.

Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.

“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.

You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.

“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.

“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.

Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.

Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.

Summoning your courage, you face her directly.

“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.

“...would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out on a date tonight?”

There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.

Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“No,” her voice responds to your question.

Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.

As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.

I’ll pick you up tonight. 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 2

a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ One-Sided Love: In Which, you realize Jinwoo was always for ???... ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 017 ✦ ┆・

‼️[tw: ANGST TO FLUFF, HAPPY ENDING, strong imagery of depression, hanahaki disease, hurt, subtance-abuse, suicidal-imagery, mention of death]‼️

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 1 || Part Two ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ He Lied. He Had to Lie. He Needed to Lie. ] ¡! ❞

It is his first, and his final gift to you.   The you who is no longer by his side. He bids you a farewell, a farewell he never thought he would do. For a friend.       "Goodbye, may your dreams be pleasant as you drift in purgatory. May your soul rest. I'm sorry."

…

As Jinwoo walks away from the stonehead, a sudden sharp ring stabs through his head. He groaned, almost stumbling on the muddy ground from the sheer agony.

He continued to struggle for a while, before finally removing his hand that had been gripping the side of his head. His fingers that had been wrapped around the umbrella hilt loosened, causing the object to flutter and fall down the floor. Splattering down on the muddy floor.

Ah… Yes.

He finally remembers. 

Everything that he had erased in his memories,... Have finally come back. The things he had buried in the sea of forgotten memories, have suddenly come back to him like a dam bursting open. It swallowed everything at its wake.

Everything that Jinwoo swore he would never have again, has finally come back.

His gaze lingered back on the stonehead in front of him. The lonely, lonely rock that was hollow and devoid of anything.

Though the flowers he had offered were beautiful as they were, it didn’t matter as the rain dampened the pretty petals down into pathetic, lifeless things. Those flowers were beautiful when he had offered it, but now, it looked drained of all its colours.

Jinwoo took a step again, turning his back and walking away.

He was trying desperately to ignore the hammering feeling ripping his heart apart.

Maybe it was of guilt, of sadness, of shame, of remorse— No.

Maybe it was all of it.

As Jinwoo comes home, his gaze would linger upon Cha Hae-in, who greets him warmly with that beaming smile.

She was beautiful, like a precious gemstone gleaming amongst the cobbles.

Jinwoo wanted to admire her, he truly did, but the memories he has regained caused her image to become muddy.

He tried everyday, he tried to be happy, he tried to play the perfect role of boyfriend to her. He kept up his appearances as the most beloved and hailed hunter.

But everything was slowly starting to swallow him into the abyss.

Ironic, isn’t it?

He was the embodiment of the darkness, the face of death, the persona of all the shadows.

Yet somehow, his own darkness was finally starting to destroy him from within.

The more the days passed, the more his grey eyes would lose their life, the more empty they became. Eventually, Jinwoo’s normally calm gaze—

Would become faded.

His eyes were still there, but for some reason, it felt that they were far gone. The little light that he had in his brilliant orbs has finally disappeared.

Jinwoo was rotting from the inside-out. As if his heart is beating out black ichor. He felt vile and disgusting, he wanted to rip himself apart, he wanted to stab himself and put an end to it.

Jinwoo was drowning now. 

Not even Hae-in’s loving words and affectionate advances weren’t doing it for him.

The more Jinwoo looked at her, the more muddled his gaze would become.

He didn’t know if it was hate or disgust.

He still needed to be a good man, so he politely asked her to break off the relationship. He didn’t want part of this anymore, he didn’t want to keep up the illusion anymore. He just wanted to disappear.

Jinwoo started to become an alcoholic, he would douse bottle after bottle but to his dismay— He could never be drunk. He couldn’t drink his sorrows away. He can’t get lost in the blissful euphoria of being lost in the toxicity of debauchery.

Even his family can't stop Jinwoo’s descent into silent madness.

He felt pathetic and guilty whenever he would see the pained expressions they would make when they see the amount of bottles he had already empty.

So Jinwoo would isolate himself in the land of eternal rest, where not even his children can call out to him unless absolutely necessary.

Jinwoo really just wanted to hide here, to bask in the darkness he had first mastered but now is a representation of his dying consciousness.

He would disappear and reappear again and again.

Whenever he hunts, his methods are especially brutal and unforgiving, as if he is projecting all of his pain onto the poor creatures that would cross paths with him.

He would often come out of the gates completely drenched in blood, creating an image of utter horror but somehow the bloodbath he showers in suited his broken gaze.

Jinwoo felt more like a wanderer now.

Ceaselessly taking one step in front of the other, wandering aimlessly like a lost spirit that is nothing more than a fleeting illusion.

Wander. Wander. Wander.

And eventually, he wanders over to your resting place. Jinwoo found himself unconsciously walking to your grave eventually, his distant gaze reading the stonehead over and over as if expecting something of some sort.

The memories he was trying to repress so badly, are torturing him again.

Jinwoo had spent… 800 times regressing over and over.

The reason?

You.

The you who is now dead.

But why is that? Didn’t he make you suffer such a torturous heartbreak? Didn’t he himself push you away and abandon you to your own woes? So why?

Those 800 times he had regressed, Jinwoo had lost you over and over. No matter how hard he tries to save you, no matter how hard he attempts to change your fate— Jinwoo would keep losing you and in the end your cold corpse would be in his arms while he screams into the air; cursing the gods and everything that is alive. 

Why?... How come everything else could have a happy ending but you? You who had always been there for him, you who cradled him in most miserable days? You who had always been the one to patch his wounds up? Why can’t he have you? Why can’t he give you everything? 

Jinwoo had tried every goddamn method.

He killed the gods, he murdered the monarchs, he sealed off the gates, he tried every outcome he could ever think of— And yet… And yet the outcome is always the same.

Jinwoo kept gambling, pulling card after card after card after card… And now he is empty handed.

All of it always ends with him having the fool in his hand. 

He cries, laughing like a madman as he knelt in front of your grave as if he was begging for mercy.

Jinwoo thought that removing himself from your life would solve things. He attempted to remove your memories and it didn’t work.

So Jinwoo instead tried to remove his memories of you. Because if he had kept those memories of you, he wouldn’t be able to resist himself and would run back to your arms where he felt so safe and sound.

Even after he removed every trace of you in his brain— His heart stubbornly yearned for you and reversed the curse he had inflicted on himself and once again showed him the hell he tried so desperately tried to escape.

“Child, you’re weeping again” Jinwoo’s gaze would snap up, finding himself in the presence of Ashborn who is sporting his image. “Your plans have failed once again, I see”

Jinwoo bitterly laughs, getting up from his pathetic position. “Of course I did, and you as always— Had predicted it. You’re right, I lost that person again.”

“...”

“I tried everything, Ashborn” Jinwoo chokes up, his look far gone from sane now. “I tried ever fucking method in hopes that my bet would have a sliver of hope and make a break through. I always… Always considered all the possibilities that could destroy the ending that I want but for fuck’s sake I keep losing everytime.”

“You haven’t tried everything, child” Ashborn says, transforming into the image of you.

Jinwoo purses his lips, his eyes watering at the sight of you. Although it was just an illusion by his predecessor— Jinwoo still felt a strong tug in his heart that of which longs to embrace you.

“What do you mean?” Jinwoo asks, his gaze falling down. 

“Have you ever wondered why that child was immune to the potions and how you couldn’t remove their memories of you?” Ashorn hums, circling around Jinwoo. “Why do you think so?”

“....”

“Because they’re not from here” Ashborn answers immediately, catching Jinwoo off-guard.

“What?” Jinwoo glares at him.

“That child’s body doesn’t respond to your powers because they are an anomaly that shouldn’t have been in this world in the first place” Ashborn explains. “The world in which that lover of yours hails from is far different from our homeland that is tainted by meddling gods and monarchs, mana doesn't flow through that world. None of our ailments with the divine or anything else taints their homeworld.”

“So you’re saying that my biggest mistake was not figuring that out soon and I was the fool who made my lover suffer through those painful things when I could have solved it just by sending them home?” Jinwoo bitterly laughs, choking in his sobs. “...I’m so… So stupid”

“....” Ashborn chuckles, patting Jinwoo’s shoulder. “Do you want to be with them? Your beloved?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“In exchange, you will give up your throne as the shadow monarch, everything that you have with you right now including the system—” Ashborn turns to him “Are you willing to give that up.”

“Yes.”

There was silence between the two, Ashbron’s eyes would bore into Jinwoo’s as if waiting for the man to falter. 

But falter he didn’t.

“Alright” Ashborn hums. 

“I’ll be an anomaly in that world, won’t I?” Jinwoo asks.

“That would be the case if it weren’t for the fact that I am your predecessor” He muses, “My last gift to you will be me taking my place back as the shadow monarch. All of which that are yours as my heir will be returned to me.”

“Including my kids?” Jinwoo inquires.

“Naturally.”

“Then let me say farewell to them” He requests.

Ashborn merely nods, letting Jinwoo turn around.

He takes a deep breath, his deep grey eyes turning purple as for one final time he says his command, “Arise”

“I’m sorry,”— Was the first thing Jinwoo had said, bowing his head to the shadows he had grown to love. “And thank you,... For everything. For all of your services, for all of the memories you all have shown me. Even if you’re all just undead creatures I summoned for my own greedy pursuit, I thank you all for everything that you have done,... My kids.”

The shadows wail, from sadness and from joy. Their voices would mix and howl, urging Jinwoo to pursue his dream. They would miss him, yes, but they value their master’s happiness over their own selfish wishes.

They had been there, they knew how much heartache and mourning their master has gone through for that person, how much pain Jinwoo had gone through, how much he cried in those lonely nights. 

They listened to all of his screams.

And they, his shadows, his soldiers, his children,... Yearn for nothing more than to give Jinwoo the happiness he deserves.

So for a final time, they salute to Sung Jinwoo.

As the man himself fades into pieces of fleeting white petals.

For a final time, it is now farewell.

Farewell to the shadow monarch, Sung Jinwoo.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆౨ৎ��⟡˖ ࣪

You were admiring the pink petals falling beside your window, not noticing a pair of grey eyes lovingly admiring you from the classroom door. 

A tender gaze so full of love.

“May I?” The deep and smooth voice inquires, snapping you out of your daze and you turn.

He was handsome, pristine and upright. Perfectly carved out features as if made by divine hands. Everything about his features was absolutely symmetrical, even his gentle eyes and straight brows. Even with his puffy ebony locks— He looked so otherworldly and yet familiar at the same time

You nod and he sits down, throwing you a small smile.

“Jinwoo.” He speaks, the sound of his voice causing the tips of your heart to tremble as your stomach fluttered. “My name is Sung Jinwoo."

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[genshin-squabbles-and-wobbles]

Hurtful to You Mid-Argument || Part 2

Request: greetings. may i requst the GEnshin bois saying something hurtful to you mid argument, gotta adds some angsttt, thank you :) Cyno, scaramouche, tighnari, and ayato Note: OH MY GOD THIS POST BLEW UP OVERNIGHT. Thank you guys for the wonderful support, it is much appreciated that I can receive so much love for my writing. Thank you so much. I feel so connected and loved by this community, please, let's all simp and cry together. Requested Tags: @aquamarine001 and @arrowximpack Content: You got into an argument with your lover until they said something hurtful to you, thus leading you to leave mid argument. This is a continuation, which will have a mix of fluff and angst, because everyone's heart needs a break. Part 1: Here

Cyno: ╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

You cried for a copious amount of time, so much that your eyes were swollen and red. Currently, you are staring up at the ceiling with a numbed mind. Sometimes you go back to crying and sometimes you just...stare. Everything seems so slow right now. Your pillow was wet from the splatters of tears.

However, the most notable thing was a broke hourglass on the ground. This was a gift from Cyno from one of his journeys. However, in a fit a rage, you slapped it off your nightstand, wanting this gift to get out of your sight as soon as possible.

You feel miserable. Now, for Cyno, you thought he left and just went off on his own, but in fact that was untrue. Cyno was still outside of your door, it was just you never saw him fully left. Cyno had his head and both hands pressed against your door, he stood there the whole time listening to you cry. He regretted his words greatly. He kept thinking to himself if he was just taking his anger out on you, or if your friend was truly a suspect on his list. However, none of that matters. Cyno felt he was on thin ice with you, and that you were going to break up with him. He pulled out the intelligent drug out of his possession and is tempted to drink it so just drown his sorrows. However, that was too reckless, even for him. He sighed and put the drug away. He decided, maybe we would try and apologize, what is there the more to lose at this point? He gently re-entered your home, and took a deep breathe, and slowly entered your room. "Hey.." he gently called out to you.

You jumped at his gentle voice, almost giving in to it. You turned your head to him, and gave him a side glared at him. Your back was faced to him mostly but you turned around slowly. "What do you want? Here to accuse me of murder?" "Don't say that, darling." He looked to the side and looked back at you. "Listen sweety, I am very sorry for what I said, I shouldn't have alluded that type of serious accusation towards you. I should be the first person to know you best out of anyon-" He felt a soft smack on his face.

You threw your pillow at him. "I don't care! Get out! I hate you! I always support you and you leave me for days and weeks and then come back to insult me to my face!" You began to throw another pillow at him. Cyno dodges it and walks up closer to you. "I-I'm sorry, I know what I said was seriou-"

You got up and pushed him. "Just leave! I don't ever want to see you again!" Suddenly, you were pinned down against the bed, confused you looked and saw Cyno on top of you. His torso was in between your legs, along with his hair falling down and tickling your skin.

He brings his face closer to yours and looked you into your eyes. "Do you really mean that?" He asked with a serious expression. Cyno kept a serious face but deep down, he was trying to keep back the tears welling up in his eyes. He was better at hiding it then it seems though.

You sniff and looked to the side. Cyno gently placed his forehead against yours, and started to whisper to you. "Do you truly mean that? If you want me to go, I will go and never come back, if you so wish desire."

Immediately, you gave him a look of distress, as the sound of that was so horrible and bitter to you. That look you gave him is all the answer he needs. "I see, so you don't mean it." He whispered. "Listen, I didn't mean what I said, okay? It was wrong of me to say something so morbid to you, especially how far I go to deal with these things." You looked away. He lets go of your hand and turned your face to him. "Look at me. I mean it when I say this. I was just stressed because I just haven't found any clues of this case. After I finish this case, I promised to take a break and spend time with you. I'll even meet this friend of yours. Okay?" He said gently, and attempted to kiss your irritated red eyes, which you let him. You nodded, despite you not vocalizing forgiveness, you calmed down enough to respond to him more calmly. He lets go of your hands and wrapped his arms around you, while you are still pinned down in bed. "Come, let me take care of you today...and fix this hourglass." Scaramouche: ╔═ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═╗╚═ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═╝╔═ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═╗ You were going out for a walk, this was in the afternoon where the sky was orange and pink. You were still crying, walking and stumbling. You looked up and saw a clift, a nice spot to take a breather. You went to the clift and prompted to sit down until you felt a tight grab on your arm from behind you.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" A distressed Scaramouche yelled while yanking your arm along with you, away from the clift. "Are you seriously going to jump off a cliff because of all that??" "W-What? N-NO! I just wanted to sit and calm dow-" Whatever you said didn't matter anyways. He pulled you into a hug and hugged you very tightly. You felt him out of breath and felt his hand gently on the back of your head. You placed your hands on his chest and tried to push him away as hard as you can, but he refuse to budge.

"Scaramouche, get off of me." He refused and he showed that by pushing you against a nearby tree. Your back was to a thick tree, and now you can feel his body against you a bit more. He grabbed your hands and kissed you passionately, breathing heavily, using his body to keep you pushed against the tree. "S-Scara?" You pulled away from his sudden kiss, confused. Surprisingly, you saw a sad and regretful expression on his face. "I'm sorry, okay?" He said going back to hugging you, pressing his body against yours. Feeling your warmth. "I didn't.....I didn't meant be rude to you." He gently pulled away and had his hands, cupping your cheeks, as he is looking straight down at you with a gentle, yet troubled expression. You felt his breathe on your cheek. "I missed you...so much. The reason why I was gone was because I got lost somewhere, and I was too embarrassed to admit. I want you to see me as a strong man, a reliable man, someone who won't slip up over stupid things like this. I got lost, and I missed you, so much. All I could think of was hugging you. I don't want you to have to worry about me." He sighed. You blushed gently. "Where did you learn to communicate your feelings like this to me? You usually want me to figure it out by myself." Scaramouche sighed with embarrassment, he had a small pink hue on his cheeks. "I...I met a couple, they were very...touchy with each other, so I ended up asking them questions and how relationships are supposed to be like. Just know that I missed you, seeing that couple made me think of things I want to do with you. So....please don't leave me like that, okay?"

Tighnari:╔══════╗╚══════╝╔══════╗╔══════╗╚════╝

You were walking, zipping up your coat down Sumeru forest. You walked along the river, calming down to the night time noises homed to the peaceful forest. You continued, to walk and sat in between a large bark roots of a tree. It was a little spot to watch the water and poke at the flowers nearby. At this point, if monsters come and attack you, you'd let them. You don't care anymore. Why bother? So much for love. You sighed. Slowly a shadow emerged emitted from the moon light. You noticed the shadow at two large ears that are twitching. It was Tighnari, he slowly walked and looked down on you. In his hand was the bag you knitted him. "I finally found you." He said quietly. "If you didn't...uhm..if you didn't make that delicious dinner for me, I wouldn't have found you since you smelled like dinner.." You didn't respond. Tighnari understands your silence. He slowly walked behind you and sat down, and wrapped his arms around you, and gently pulled you in between his legs. "Tigh-"

"You can be mad at me all you like, I won't let you go, but I will say this. I truly do apologize for treating you like that. It was wrong of me to take my anger out on you like that. I should have known better that you only do things to make me happy." "..." "you can be mad at me all you like, but I am not moving, and I won't be letting you go until you come home with me. " He pulled you more closer to him, as you feel his chest on your back and his breath by your neck. You feel his tail wrapped around you, keeping you warm from the night cold. You feel his legs guarding yours. He was putting you in a box practically. He began to rub your stomach a bit. "You were waiting for me to eat, weren't you?" You sigh.

"I thought so." Tighnari pulled out a few slices of veggie pizza in a toppleware from the knitted bag you made him and placed it on your lap. "Eat." "....And this bag you made me...is very useful, thank you. I will take it with me on my future adventures." He whispered to you as you feel his ears resting on top of your head. Sooner or later, you ate, and ending up falling asleep on him. He picked you up and carried you home, as he placed you in bed and tucked you in. He climbed in bed with you and cuddled you from behind. He buried his nose into your neck, trying to fall asleep to your scent. Ayato: ┌── •✧• ──┐└── •✧• ──┘┌── •✧• ──┐

Ayato was knocking at your door. Despite his work being due at the end of tomorrow, he abandoned it momentarily to make sure things are good with you. However, no matter how much he knocked, no response. It has been days ever since, however today, he was worried and he decided to be bold and let himself in. "Darling, please. Let's talk." He spoke softly, as he walked in. However once he walked in, he saw you packing your clothes, getting ready to leave. Panic ran up his spine and he immediately rushed up to you. "Hey, Hey, hey, what's going on here, beloved?" You ignored him and continued to pack your clothes. He grabbed both of yours hands to stop you. Your hands fits perfectly in his palms. "Darling, please let's talk about this." He had a devastated expression on his face. "No, I'm done." You said and yanked your hands out of his. You closed your luggage and got up. "Huh?! Darling?" He became worried as his voice raised in panic. "I'm breaking up with you and I am leaving you. I don't see this working out. Don't come and find me, and I never want to see you again." You rushed out, racing towards the exit. Ayato yelling for your name behind you. Ayato was walking behind you, yelling your name, as you ignored him and continued. He was catching up to you quickly due to his long legs and tall stature. Ayato then finally caught up to you, and luckily with this office nearby, he yanked you in along with your luggage. "HUH?" You were confused on why it was suddenly dim and you luggage had fallen. Ayato was hugging your from behind, tightly. You feel his whole body on your back. "P-Please...don't do this to me....I don't want to lose you." "Let go of me." You said sternly attempting to pick up your luggage. Ayato kicked your luggage far from you, and hugged you tighter. Ayato's head was looking down at your shoulder, as you felt something plop on your shoulders and neck. Ayato was crying, and silently begging you to not leave him. Like a broken down child. "Please...you are all I have left." Ayato buried his head into your shoulder and slowly fell to his knees, bringing you down with him onto your knees as well. You sighed. "Ayato..." "Don't say my name, say what you have always called me." Ayato begged quietly. You sighed and complied. ".....My darling."

Hearing this calmed him down a little bit as he rested his head on your back. He was still very tightly knitted to you, but he started to calm down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you for so long. The type of work they are giving me here is quite rigorous. These documents are from an important events, so I can't ignore them." He said slowly letting go of you. You turned around to see a very stressed and distressed Ayato, with tears in his eyes and tears streaming down his face. You adjusted yourself, however, that small adjustment made Ayato grab your hands and yanked you onto his lap, as he buried his face in your neck. "I won't let you leave me!" He said thinking you were attempting to leave him again. "I-I was just adjust myself, not leaving." "Y-You're not leaving anymore?" He looked at you with devastating eyes. "No, darling. I'm...I'm sorry for trying to break up with you, I was so upset that you wouldn't give me the time of day and then when you do, you yell at me, I was just frustrated." Ayato hugged you on his lap, and had his hand on the back of your head, as if he almost dropped a glass diamond. He kept you on his lap, resting there for an hour until he fully calmed down and regain his posture. He sighed and spoke. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that, as you can see, you mean quite a lot to me, however, I do see the mistake on my part and how that can push you away from me. I have a compromise, why don't you come into my office and...rest yourself on my lap, I'll hold you as I work. Maybe you can stay long enough to fall asleep on me...." He murmured still affected by the events, but will recover eventually.

[r-riri]

'if i could get out of this place' - red haired shanks

(credits to @strangergraphics-archive for the divider)

word count 1,496

fluff mixed with angst

the glistering water reflected the deepest shames a pirate could have. they sparkled and shimmered with warmth and comfort like a siren begging the man to join her. though he couldn't, he made an oath to his crew, his friends, his chosen family.

this is how she felt staying behind on the ship whilst the men on board disbanded and explored the island that claimed to be the best makers of the richest rum. y/n had no interest in silly rum that could ease her stresses, no, y/n was a woman at heart in a ship of men so instead of drinking her sorrows she looked them dead on with a clear mind.

y/n peered over the sturdy railing into the depths of the shallow water, studying the small fish who wondered under the surface. y/n felt a pit grow in her stomach not at the water but it was a twisting feeling shes only ever felt once during her whole life. that one time was the desperation of begging Gold D. Roger to let her join his crew so she could learn under the greatest pirate known to man. that desperation and willingness to do anything needed to ensure that y/n got the one thing that she believed made her heart pound.

so why was she feeling that again? Nonetheless why was she feeling it while staring at the small yellow fish swimming ignorantly though the warm water that welcomed the fish with encouraging arms. why did she feel sickly at the though of this fish.

"ive happen to grow to like you so you better not jump" a cunningly smooth voice said from behind her, she glanced over her shoulder having gotten used to the men on this ship trying to take the chance at scaring y/n.

"shanks? why am i not surprised" she smirked seeing his laid smile that was strung along his lips like god himself took the time to craft his face until he deemed it was perfection.

shanks trotted the space between them and laid his torso over y/ns back leaning all his weight onto her "omg you disgusting man get your unwashed self off me" y/n laughed between her words wilfully ignoring the heavily deepening feeling down in the pits of her stomach that grew bigger the longer she stayed

"carry me woman" he groaned into y/n's neck to which her eyes rolled in amusement before shrugging him off and he crashed to the ground wheezing, y/n stepped on his torso and over him away from the railing "why must my true love wound me so" he coughed

y/n snickered but never responded and walked into the dinning room in search for a glass of water to maybe drown the green feeling growing inside my body, that grew like a fungal infection.

y/n downed a glass of water but felt the same feeling clutch her lungs squeezing them tightly with desperation to be acknowledged. y/n rubbed their eyes hoping that maybe she may have caught a cold and thats why she may be feeling ill, though deep down she knew exactly what she was feeling, she knew the cause and she knew the solution to what would make this feeling dissipate.

y/n left the kitchen seeing the deck empty, shanks must have left to god knows where, instead she beelined to her own quarters, it may have been small and compacted in comparison to the mens roomy quarters but at least it didn't stink as if 10 dead bodies died in soured milk. instead the compact room laid pictures of people she once met, the memories of the girl and her old life the one she yearns- no no, y/n does not yearn for that life, she is happy sailing the seas, she loves the people. yes she makes comments that they stink, but these people chose her for their family.

even if y/n is happy the books that laid open with messy handwriting of different words that can only exist in the scapes of her mind, the words written were once poisoned with heartbreak and wishing now strung into beauty of the lives she writes for people she can only imagine herself in.

y/n sat on the neatly dressed bed that fit the facade that y/n put on herself each day pretending to not yearn for a life where she could see her name highlighted positively about the books she yearns to be writing and and the stories she yearns to tell to the children who grew the way she did but never got the chance to explain.

y/n pulled out a small grey box from under her bed and uncapped the box revealing 4 letters with four different names written in a neat font from a fancy feathered ink pen,

shanks buggy roger Rayleigh

the four people that she held close during her time upon this ship, each letter contain a scripture about her love and adoration for each of them uniquely dictated to each person and their individual tendencies.

she grabbed a small bag and stuffed it with her brimming books and small nicknacks that she kept from people who gift them to her and laid the letters along the dressed bed and made her escape.

she disembarked from the boat and walked along the coast of the island searching for a unmanned boat to use to leave her second life behind and as she found a small rowboat unmanned she boarded it and soon she sat there writing the end of her book that she lived with her favourite family.

as the sun hid from the people and the moon stood proudly in its place shanks roamed the ship looking for y/n, he had news to tell her, he needed to have a discussion with her but he failed to find her, finally he ventured into unknown territory and he stepped into her room and laid small letters with names, he grasped his letter and he ripped it opened hastily,

he stood there after reading the letter and felt a droplet down his cheek, cold and wet, it was a singular tear, shanks gripped the letter and left the room running off the ship and screamed her name until his voice was bare and dry

that was the day shanks lost someone he deemed to be important to him.

25 years later

y/n laughed as she sighed a copy of 'love lost' a book that she wrote 7 years ago, she smiled at the girl who raved about the book and how it helped her though a moment in her life.

"thanks kid" y/n smiled kindly as she handed the book to the girl again and gave her a hug as the girl asked for "this book meant a lot to me when i first wrote it so i'm glad it helped you" y/n smiled as she slowly bid her goodbyes and left the area and walked along the uneven cobble stone she admired the stone work of this small island that invited me to do a book signing.

"so this is where you've been hiding" a voice cold as ice rang though her ears, this voice shot y/n through the heart as she recognised the owner of the voice, she felt her throat close up at the fear of being confronted of a character from her past life as a pirate, the irony of 25 years ago she had been admiring (more like loathing the freedom of a fish) when shanks approached her. now 25 years later she was admiring stone work when shanks again approached her.

"now you wont even turn to look at me" shanks mused trotting the fine line between the two people "you left without even a goodbye y/n, a letter? a letter was all that had been left in your wake" he leaned down to her level to which y/n finally glanced behind and looked at his missing arm

"see you've made changes" she attempted to joke to which he leaned back

"and you've become an author" he countered back at her "see we've both changed"

"shanks i'm sorry but i had to leave, if i ever left it would have eaten me alive, i'm sure i would have been a author if only i had left that place, and i left and now look at me. i've written 3 books and 2 miniseries' i did what i dreamed to do" y/n explained in a melancholy tonal voice

y/n watched shanks nod "you did what you needed to do, buggy cried his eyes out the crook" he shrugged as if he wasn't also affected "i'm glad your'e smiling the same way you did back then" he wrapped his arm around her "big nerd" he teased

she smiled "stinker" she teased back

taglist - @flusteredmoonn

[silentwhispofhope]

Ok so i saw the jealous vash but.. How about a jealous reader instead? She gets pouty and a little bit insecure after seeing a girl flirt with Vash? Or it can be the way Maryl looks at vash.. i dunno :)

A/N: I may or may not have spilled boiling water on my side while at work today. That 4% of Italian genes really came in clutch. No blisters or anything! Also, mentions of drinking and alcohol!

Jealousy (Reversed Scenerio)

Your head rested against the cool tile of the bar, watching the tiny bubbles in your beer float up to the foam. You gave the glass bottle a flick out of annoyance.

“What’s up with you?” A voice from behind you asked. You turned your head towards the tanned man.

“Just… tired, I guess,” you lied, giving a small smile. Wolfwood stared at you for a second. The weight of his eyes made you uncomfortable and you quickly went back to staring at your drink. The alcohol was finally starting to hit your system. What number was this now? Three? Four?

“Yeah, sure,” he replied as he sat down next to you.

You simply hummed in response, giving the bottle another flick. You had come to the bar to drown out your sorrows. What you felt wasn’t good. It made your heart freeze, and it felt like it could shatter any moment. You didn’t like feeling like this. You didn’t like having your heart strings pulled at.

Green was such an ugly color to wear on your sleeve, but it hurt to see how Vash stared at Meryl. It hurt that even though you had known him longer, he never once looked at you that way. It hurt that you were only seen as a friend in Vash’s eyes. It didn’t feel fair. Were you not enough? A dramatic sigh from the undertaker broke you out of your moping state.

“You look pathetic like that.”

“I know,” you quietly chuckled to yourself.

You shifted upwards and quickly downed what was left of your drink. A hiccup popped out of your diaphragm. As you went to wave the bartender down, Wolfwood grabbed your hand. You turned towards him, raising an eyebrow. Quickly, you slipped your hand out of his.

“What?” You asked, annoyed.

“Don’t do something you’re going to regret.”

“I’m an adult. I know how much I can drink.”

Wolfwood stared at you, and you stared back, squinting your eyes. Another hiccup jumped out from you. You let out a groan, knowing that action just proved his point. The undertaker gave you playful flick between your eyebrows.

“Ow!” You jumped and quickly gave him an impish shove. Wolfwood barely moved an inch before giving you his signature cocky smile. “God, you’re awful.”

“Oh, how ever shall I make it up to you?” He sarcastically replied.

You thought for a second. “Lollipop.”

“Huh?”

“Lollipop.” You made a grabbing motion with a hand. “I know you still have some.”

“That wasn’t an offer.”

“Lollipop or I get another drink.”

The black-haired man rolled his eyes, but went searching for the candy in one of his pockets. Several seconds later, he pulled out a lollipop with a blue wrapper and handed it to you.

“Thank you,” you told him, swiftly popping the candy into you mouth. You gave the undertaker a real smile. Unbeknownst to you, blue eyes had been watching the two of you.

[jaysgirlx]

Could you please write a dick grayson oneshot and make it angst with some fluff plsss

❝ 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 ❞

❥ pairing: dick grayson x civilian f!reader

❥ summary: dick loves you so much and you know it but all the two of you do is fight and your last fight might've just been it for the two of you.

❥ warnings: major angst, accused cheating, mentions of depression and reader is aware dick is nightwing.

❥ wc: 1.4k

"Why were you there with him? He knows better than to take you out" Dick said as he angrily slapped his apartment door behind him. The loud echo only showed how angry Dick was.

"What's wrong with hanging out with Jason?” You said bitterly, he had been ditching you all month and now he wants to play boyfriend? “And if you're going to be upset with anyone make it me, I was the one who dragged him out for drinks"

"Why? Do I not spend enough time with you or do you just prefer my brother? You know he's dangerous for fucks sake"

You don't respond this time, while the tension between you two thickened. I'm so fucking done. This wasn't fair to you. Everything these days was always your fault. “Dick, I'm allowed to hang out with Jason he's my friend not just your brother,” you said with your arms folded across your chest.

These days it was almost as if he wanted you two to argue and fight more and more. It was only was 3 months ago that things were nearly perfect and now everything is a mess.

Is he this mad over Jason?

Your plan for tonight had been to drown your sorrow's in some vodka and when you told Jason he said was coming with you. Apparently, he didn't think it was a good idea for you to go to the bar by yourself so he followed. He didn't drink but he did listen to you rant about Dick being well a dick. You two had been laughing and sharing about Dick right before he showed up angry because you missed 10 of his calls.

Dick grunted with irritation, your response not only made him pissed but also slightly jealous. Since when were you and Jason so close? You kept defending him like you two were… "Are you defending him because you're fucking him? Is that it"

That sentence was your final straw. You'll never know what compelled you to punch him, maybe it was resentment you had for him or maybe the alcohol that reminded in your system. Tears were spilling from your eyes while Dick stumbled back recovering from that punch. "Fuck you, Grayson" He looked up at you holding his nose, you could tell he regretted saying anything but that didn't mean he didn't mean what he said “Love I didn't—”

“Don't Grayson, just don't” You wiped the tears away and grabbed your things, your phone, an already packed suitcase, and your wallet. Dick watched you like there was something to be said and he just couldn't say it. He wanted to stop you, pull you close to him, and beg for your forgiveness but in the end, this was what he wanted. Why hurt you all over again later in time when he could just get it over with? Like ripping off a band-aid. Except it's really stuck to your skin. "I'm going to stay with Steph for the time being while you get your shit together"

Before you could even hear what he said you left with what you took, it was long before you arrived at Steph's place a complete mess knocking on her door. "Y/n, what happened?" she said letting you inside. You wanted to speak but you didn't know how. The only words that left your mouth were, "I can't do this to myself anymore Steph, I think we're done for good after this."

~✧~

3 & 1/2 months later

"I can't do this anymore, Dick"

Those words rang in his head while, Dick Grayson stood in front of your apartment for other fifth time this month just staring at your door. He knew you were probably home, listening to music while you made breakfast for dinner. This was how he wanted his plan to go, he gets you to dump him and he protects you from afar. But that night hadn't been a part of his plan, he was angry. Jason may have been his brother but he wasn't always involved with the right guys and you...you could get hurt and he'd only blame himself.

He was a fucking coward and he was okay with that, as long as you were safe. For the last two months, he'd been trying to track your every move but it was as if you had quite literally disappeared off that face of the earth. After what Steph told him, he knew you didn't want him around, and why would you? Though he was upset with you, he should've never implied that you would cheat on him. He knew you wouldn't. You loved him and he clearly did not deserve your undying affection.

After what seemed like forever Dick realized the silence coming from your home while quite strange. Your walls were thin, he would know because your neighbors banned him from staying the night due to the activities you two very much enjoyed indulging in. He gently knocked at the door as in pushing it open. It was unlocked. His fists clenched at the sight of the broken lock that he hadn't noticed until now.

Forced entry?

He pushed open the door wide, your apartment was a mess but it was also empty. He checked your room, bathroom, and the guest room but you were gone. He looked around the room for something. something tangible he could trace back to find you. He searched your bedroom once more, finding a blood stained envelope on your dresser labeled "For Nightwing".

fuck fuck fuck.

This is exactly what he didn't want to happen. Your life was in danger because of him. His eyes roamed the blood stained, tightly sealed envelope, reading his name printed on it in Black. He didn't hesitate before tearing it open and reading its contents.

Dear Nightwing,

You might know me since it seems like your former lover here forgot to mention me. The best boyfriend she ever had, we were just so perfect for each other. But after she found out about the stalking and the murders, she got scared and ran to you and took her away from me. She said I was dangerous! Can you believe that?

You're more than just that, you are sick, deranged, and mentally insane.

It took me a while to put together that she was actually dating you and then I had to wait till the two of you broke up. The worst part is that when I tried to win her back after your "horrific" breakup she told me that she never wants to see my disgusting face ever again and that she only wanted to love you.

She still wanted to love me?

And that just made me so mad. So mad that I wanted to end her sweet life, but I took mercy on her and decided that I was going to have a little fun with the two of you. From the way I saw you treat her, you were willing to do almost anything for her. I am so upset that I spent my time on a whore that is still obsessed with the likes of you and I want an out. I want to leave Gotham and start a new life and for that I need money. A lot of it. After learning that you are Dick Grayson, an adopted son of the Bruce Wayne I just knew all this would work.

So Nightwing if you want your girlfriend back you have to pay the price. Here's how much I want: 5 billion, that should be reasonable enough.

Wire it to this account number xxxxxxxx under the name Roman Jennings and it's under this girl's address. Don't worry, I will wait as long as you're willing to take but now I'll have my fun with her. Let's hope she's not dead before I get what I want.

— X

Money? He wants fucking money?

He kidnapped you, the love of his life, just so he could have some money to run away like some pussy. Now Dick was not only pissed but ready to kill a man. He had hurt you to keep you safe but you were in danger and he had no clue what to do. Well...he knew what to do or rather who to call but he did't want to.

I am not calling him for money.

He grumbled and whipped out his phone to text him.

Dick: Father, hypothetically could you gather up Damien, Jason, Tim, Steph, Cass, and Barbra for me? For a late-night dinner perhaps?

Bruce: You only call me Father when you need something important. Did something bad happen?

Dick: Can you get them?

Bruce: Hypothetically, yes I could. What is going on Dick?

Dick: I'm coming to the Manor in about 10 minutes, please get them.

Bruce: Is it that bad?

Dick: Yes.

Bruce: I'll see you soon Dick.

This was going to be a long night...

[aphroditeslover11]

Somebody Else's Wedding

A little something that I wrote for @forgottenpeakywriter based on some prompts she sent me, I hope this makes you happy lovely. x

As for the smut I was trying to write, its coming slowly, sorry to the requester, but I am shit!!!

You had first encountered Robert in a meeting held by a mutual friend, focused on supporting local workers through the economic depression that the whole world was facing at the minute. Someone had introduced you and before you knew it you and you had immediately hit it off. You met up for subsequent meetings and then he started to take you out for dinner. It was fair that after the third of these occasions you had totally and irretrievably fallen for him. He led you along for a while, like a dog chasing a scent, until one day he kissed you as he walked you to the door of the house you were staying in. You were pretty sure that this was his way of cementing the deal, thought apparently not, or you wouldn’t be stood here. Your happy fantasy world had been broken apart weeks later when your parents, worried about the family reputation, had threatened to cut you off if you didn’t end all of your ties to left wing politics. This included Robert.

Today was your wedding day, and to your disappointment it wasn’t Robert who was stood at your side. Instead you were going to be married to a chemistry graduate who had just got a stable job working for Shell. He was a good match and a good friend, but he wasn’t Oppie. You felt like you were at somebody else’s wedding, not your own. Things were even worse in the fact that your fiancé had insisted that Oppie be invited along to the proceedings, having been his lecturer at Berkeley for a while. He had been sat at the back of the room, but you could still sense his presence in the air. As the service began it clearly became all too much for him, the small scuffle in the back pews alerting you to him leaving to avoid the painful situation, not that you could go anywhere.

The vows were progressing and you were getting towards the point of having to say your “I dos”, you had an impending sense of doom but there was hardly anything that you could do about it now, stood up at the altar. The reverend said the inaugural “If anyone here knows of any just cause or impediment as for why this couple should not be bound in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The room was quiet, but of course nobody was expecting anyone to actually speak. That was until one member of the congregation raised their hand - your friend and bridesmaid Sarah. The vicar seemed genuinely taken aback, before addressing her.

“Miss, you have a reason that this marriage should not go ahead? Please consider the gravity of what you are about to do before you share it.” Sarah was hesitant, but continued anyway.

“I suspect that… the bride may love somebody else.”

~

Robert was sitting in a pub not far from the church, drowning his sorrows with a glass of whiskey. His tie was loose, the top button of his shirt undone and moving between leaning back into the wall of the booth, trying to make himself invisible, and resting his head in his hands. He didn’t even look up at the flurry of activity when one of his students, Lomanitz who had also been invited to the wedding, came hurtling through the door looking for him. 

“Oppie, I have news.”

“What, have the happy couple tied the knot yet? How wonderful.” He didn’t even look up from the table, playing with an unlit cigarette, balancing it on his finger to find the centre of gravity.

“Actually, they haven’t tied anything.” He looked up then.

“What do you mean?”

“Sarah stood up and told the congregation that y/n was in love with you and the groom was so angry that he called the entire thing off.”

“You have to be joking me… where is she now?”

“Y/n?” Oppie nodded. “She’s gone home with the Chevaliers, nobody else would speak to her.” Robert stood, downing the rest of his drink, before making his way to the door.

“Thankyou Lomanitz, and remember to get your thesis to me by Monday.” 

~

In the meantime you were sat in the front room of the Chevalier residence. They were friends of Robert’s who knew you well and were the only people who were willing to help you after the revelation of the earlier ceremony. It was pouring with rain outside, the raindrops bouncing off the ground and the sky even blacker than your mood. You were pulled out of your thoughts by a knock on the door, well three rather desperate sounding knocks to be honest. A male voice shouted through, telling you that he would sort it, so you went back to staring at the wall and nursing a glass of something rather potent you had found at the back of the kitchen cupboard.

‘Y/n, there’s someone here to see you.” You huffed as you got up, expecting it to be your parents or someone similar, making no hurry to get there. What met your eyes was somebody very different.

Robert was standing in the rain, soaked to the maximum with water dripping from the brim of his hat, now slightly bent from the moisture. 

“Should I come out or should you come in?”

“As much as I hate to say it we need some privacy, I hope you don’t mind the rain?” There was a strange look on his face that you just couldn’t read. You stepped out into the downpour, anticipation building in the pit of your stomach.

“Look, I’m sorry for walking out of the wedding today,” he started. “Lomanitz told me what happened though, is it true that you love me, because you see, I am so very in love with you.” The whole world stopped when he said that.

“Robert I… yes, I do love you.” The look of apprehension that had previously been rooted on his features quickly left, being replaced by a wide smile.

“I must be in heaven, there is no chance that somebody as beautiful as you could exist in this world. You’re the form of beauty, you know that.” You smirked at that, he always was smooth with his words.

“Oppie, I’m a bedraggled mess in the middle of a rainstorm., wearing a wedding dress from another man’s wedding.”

“It doesn’t matter, you are breathtaking.” He pauses. “In fact, I’m hoping that I might be buying you one of those soon.”

“You mean…”

“Yes, will you marry me?” I reach up for his face, reaching my arms around the back of his neck and pulling him into a deep and romantic kiss. Its a few moments until we break apart.

“I’ll take it that’s a yes!”

[topgun-imagines]

— Whumptober 2023—

hey everyone! this year, i've decided to participate in the 'whumptober' event. the whole inspiration behind my take on this event is based on @topguncortez and her whumptober masterlist. you can check it out here! just a reminder that while i am participating in this event, i have a life outside of tumblr as well.

on that note, here are the rules:

-one topic will be assigned to one character which will take place on one of the 31 days. there will not be more than one character per day.

- a list of prompts can be found below. you may submit a request for a character and a certain prompt. however, if that prompt has already been filled, unfortunately, it will go to the first request. once a prompt has been filled, it will be crossed out.

- here is a list of the character that i write for. please view this before you request as some have been added that I haven’t yet wrote for.

- the masterlist for this event will be kept a secret until later on. i'd like to keep it a surprise which pilot gets which prompt :)

- asks for each day won’t be answered publicly but the day will be crossed out immediately after the ask is received

- days/titles may change depending on what i end up writing at certain times.

- and lastly, i have final say on which prompt goes with which pilot and is posted on which day. please respect this.

— Prompts —

1. Beautiful Sorrow

Flowers | Gravesite | Widowed

2. Famous Last Words

Death I Wounds | Coughing up blood

3. No Mistakes

Parental abuse | perfectionist | alcoholism

4. Fall From Grace

Cheating | Love triangle | Divorce

5. Head Above Water

Drowning | Thalassophobia | Overwhelmed

6. Part Of Me

Miscarriage | "It's all my fault" | Blood

7. Push And Pull

Friends with benefits | Unrequited love | Conflicted

8. Pick Your Family

Disowned | Homophobia | "Why can't you love me?"

9. Pins And Needles

Paralysis | Disability | Arguments

10. Blood In The Water

Death | Ejection | Guilt

11. Darkest Hour

Self harm | “You can't leave me like this" | Ambulance

12. Take It All Back

Arguments | Break-ups | Age gap

13. The Company We Keep

Abandonment | Death | Suicidal thoughts

14. I Remember Everything

Unrequited love | Drinking | "Stay. Just till the sun rises"

15. Cut Me Open

Experimentation | Torture | Surgery

16. The Feeling Of Floating

Drugging | Rape | Fear

17. Heart Of Ice

Hypothermia | Flatline | Confession of feelings

18. Make You Whole

Amputee | "I can't make you whole" | Anxiety

19. Bottom Of The Bottle

Alcoholism | Death | Depression

20. The Art Of Pain

Cutting | Self harm | Blood

21. Sleep When You're Dead

Insomnia | Anxiety | Nightmares

22. Touch Of A Feather

Nerve damage | Hospitals | Outbursts

23. Angel Like You

"I'm everything they said I would be" | Death | Grief

24. Picture Perfect

Mental breakdown | Panic attack | Anxiety

25. Broken

Infertility | Arguments | Break-ups

26. Don’t You Trust Me?

Rape | Fear | Loss of trust

27. Sinking Sun

Cancer | Final goodbye | Death

28. Agony

Parental abuse | Burns | Beating

29. Gambling Man

Betting | Secrets | Arguments

30. Never Had A Chance

Religion | Homophobia | Fear

31. Break Me

Unrequited love | Toxic | Self-doubt

— Thank You! —

[offdacabsav2]

Neon Sorrow

Vacuo may have been nothing but dust and orange hue, however, that didn’t stop its night clubs from pumping the bass past the witching hour.

Mostly young adults drowning their pain in bourbon, or tearing up the dance floor with their partners.

The cheering and blaring songs could be heard all the way from Shade Academy. Conveniently, the school itself engineered most of the establishment’s regulars.

Not Jaune, though.

While teams RWBY and RENO celebrated, he sat at the bar, studying his drink with an unreadable stare.

Another round of pulsing bass and flickering spotlights made him flinch, involuntarily recoiling and spilling the golden beverage.

His eyes narrowed.

The glass absorbed neon shades flashing and sweeping the club. An image of jaded, dull blue orbs stared back. He scowled at the other person stealing his features.

A group of men, laughing boisterously, chose their spots next to him.

He kept them in his peripheral before tossing down some change on the bar.

Beckoning him, a dark corner lay seductively, away and isolated.

He promptly stood and walked. A curious gaze followed.

Acting as a sort of phantom, he leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, shadows covering his face.

Glimpses of yellow, black, orange, red, brown, pink and green on the dance floor between shifting bodies.

Here, separated and alone, he felt comfortable and softly sighed in relief.

Occasionally, he observed the exit and how inviting the fresh chill of night seemed compared to the suffocating humidity of this hellscape.

It smelled like sweat, alcohol and drugs. An inner prisoner beat against his skull.

Why is he even here? Why should he stay? For his friends? To satisfy their constant worries of his wellbeing?

He wanted to tell them he was fine and receive nothing more, but they never quit.

His scroll rang in his pocket. Begrudgingly, he unearthed it, ignoring a legion of unread texts and unanswered calls.

Weiss: ‘Where are you?’

His gloved hand paused over the keyboard. Once more, he glanced at his friends sway in casual wear. Questionable, in Yang’s case.

Jaune: ‘Still here.’

His inhale of polluted oxygen was deep. It honestly hurt more than it should have.

Weiss: ‘But where?’

An alarm sounded. His heart hastened.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t bring himself to answer.

So he didn’t.

That’s when the ugliest familiarity stepped out of his negative thoughts and into real life.

?: “Is that my old buddy, Jaune?”

Now he definitely wanted to leave.

Flanking his right, another revolting expression.

Cardin: “You look different, man. Why are ya hidin’ in the corner? Not like you to be afraid of a dance.”

The Arc’s blood boiled. His signature restraint and calmness degraded.

Jaune: “Fuck. off.” He hissed.

Cardin grinned, feinting shock and hurt.

Russel: “Still an asshole, apparently.”

Jaune regarded him with an evil glare.

Cardin: “Woah, ok dude, uncalled for. I was just trying to make conversation. It’s been a long time. I can’t catch up with a fellow huntsman?”

Winchester puffed out his chest, displaying a white badge showcasing title and official status.

Jaune: “Not a big fan of you’re type of reunion.”

Cardin: “Oh, c’mon. A hug, maybe pat on the back?” He smirked, spreading his longs arms.

Jaune: “Looking for validation or attention?”

Cardin: “I’m looking for a good time… Arc.” He enunciated sharply.

Jaune: “I’m not, so get the hell out of the way.” He threatened as he barged into Cardin’s shoulder and paced to the door.

Wearing an expression of smugness, Cardin slowly turned.

Cardin: “I was gonna ask for your permission.”

Jaune: “What, you need help wiping your own ass?” He answered, stuck on the exit.

Cardin: “That’s good, that’s good. He’s a funny guy, funny guy. No, more like for a dance partner. You wouldn’t mind if I took Schnee for a ride, right?”

Jaune paused abruptly. Cardin’s enthusiasm billowed.

Cardin: “Hook a fellow up, yeah? I mean, she’s gorgeous. I’d really like to see her tear up the dance floor, if you catch my drift.”

He wished he hadn’t met their arrogant faces, but Winchester stoked a fire he wanted to stamp out.

Cardin: “See if she’s really as cold as people say she is.” He glanced beyond the knight.

Jaune caught his quick check. He looked up where a strip of metal revealed two figures stalking him.

Cardin: “I don’t know, always had a thing for long hair and heels. Kinda reminds me of a certain redhead, now that I think about it.”

It was at this point where Jaune’s fingers twitched, trying to wrap around a non-existent weapon.

Slowly, more bystanders stopped dancing and watched the escalating hostility. A crowd was forming.

Cardin: “Oh, my bad. Still a fresh wound, huh?”

Russel left Cardin’s side and approached. His shit-eating grin and lax sway ignited the fire in Jaune’s chest.

Russel: “Why don’t you let this one slide?”

The instant Russel’s hand rested on his shoulder, Jaune grabbed him, slammed his palm against his elbow, bending it unnaturally, and slugged the idiot across the face so hard, he crashed into the bar.

There was a sudden yell of surprise, gauging the hit in the crowd. Quickly, it turned to chants pouring oil on an inferno.

Jaune ducked the swing he knew was coming and flipped Sky over his back. Dove lunged with blurry speed. His fists flew fast, but Jaune broke his offensive with his forearms.

Dove’s leg launched at his mid-section. Jaune shifted, catching it and swept him off his remaining foot.

He prepared to hammer his fist upon his skull, but he was tackled.

Winchester and Arc rolled. However, the bully was ejected backwards as they tumbled.

Utilizing his momentum, Jaune shot to a defensive stance, intercepting Sky’s fist. He twisted the goon’s arm back, earning a cry of pain, and wrapped his hand around Sky’s face, violently slamming him through a table. Beer and splinters flew everywhere.

Affording no respite, Cardin and Dove attacked relentlessly. Jaune was pressed to the back foot, and retreated as he dodged and ducked.

Dove overextended, allowing the knight to side-step his attack and put a body in between him and Winchester.

He planted his fist into Dove’s ribs and knocked him cold with metal knuckles to the side of the brain.

He folded like a rag doll.

Cardin, with uncanny agility, rushed Jaune and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him high and slamming him against the bar.

The bully’s iron grip worked to crush Jaune’s jugular.

And as his vision faded and neon smeared over grey walls, he rocketed his knee upwards. Cardin howled from testicular trauma.

A swift one-two against Cardin’s temple, then a bone shattering blow to the stomach.

Unfortunately, Cardin’s aura only sparked. Jaune’s eyes widened.

The arrogant brute, ardently advertising shocking nimbleness, bashed Jaune with a backhand.

Stumbling from the raw weight behind the attack, Jaune dazed. Winchester grabbed his shoulders and planted his skull against the Arc’s temple.

Blood flowed free while he struggled to keep himself standing.

Barely, he avoided a fatal punch and the following series.

Jaune steadily backpedaled until the bar was no longer restraining his movements.

Missed opportunities piled on top of one another. Cardin roared in rage as Jaune expertly weaved in and out of his range.

Cardin: “You should’ve fucking died at Beacon!”

Right there and then…

He lost.

Seething anger clouded Cardin’s gaze. With 100% strength backing his swing, Jaune would surely die instantly or suffer a seizure so extreme he was bound to perish minutes later.

But, he dropped below him and spun. Cardin was off his feet and on the ground. Before he could register it, Jaune was there pummeling into him.

Each punch packed larger reserved energy than previous ones.

Eventually, the fight had been won, but Jaune kept going.

Bone crunched, blood coated his hands and face.

Flashing images played. Pyrrha between locker bars, Cinder’s infuriating smirk, Weiss dying on the floor, the feeling of his sword slipping past Penny’s flesh and into her heart, and the crushing, indomitable, unbearable loneliness of that damn fairytale.

Jaune wore rage well. Too well.

He couldn’t hear the bass or synths anymore. Same can’t be said for ear-splitting ringing.

A set of cold hands pulled on his shoulders. He whirled fast enough to induce tremendous whiplash…

…

Only to see horrified icy sapphires.

The world returned to him. No longer did the people cheer and yell. The dead silence led him to believe he’d hear the sound of lapping waves, or a sudden explosion of fire.

Weiss: “Jaune.”

What hurt most, was how she looked at him. Like… like he was some kind of demon.

The girl who picked him up after the Pleasers. The woman who shouldered his burden. The huntress he couldn’t stop thinking about; restless at night.

The only person who made him feel…

Wanted…

He tore from her gaze, examining the damage he had caused.

Cardin’s face was mangled. Nose cracked, forehead cut open, and jaw broken beyond repair. He was barely breathing.

Dove lay flat in a growing pool of blood.

Sky struggled to lift himself from the ground. Red poured from his mouth and nose.

Beyond the bar, two employees carried a screaming Russel. A bone protruded through his arm.

Weiss: “Jaune.” She muttered.

He darted to his feet, backing away. RENO watched in pure disbelief. RWBY mimicked that.

Weiss held out her arms, trying to calm him with a delicate voice.

Instead, he ran.

Blowing open the doors and into the night.

Indeed, the air was refreshing.

Weiss: “Jaune!”

Her calls grew distant.

Sirens drew closer.

[envies-writing-corner]

Hello, you know that luxiem and noctyx are from the past and present. if you write angst or hurt/comfort, may I request a any character you want x reader, where in the process of time travel, they lost reader. It can end in angst or be hurt/comfort, whichever you want.

However if you don't wrote angst, may i request a short reader headcanon with whoever you like.

We Were Timeless

Genre: Angst

TW: despair, drinking, mental breakdown

Word Count: 575

Includes: Yugo x gn!Reader, Luca x gn!Reader (separate)

-----------------------------------------

Yugo Asuma:

It hurt... It hurt so badly...

You knew there was a chance he'd leave, you knew he was from the future and was randomly transported here. There was always a risk that one day, you'd wake up and he'd be gone.

You just never expected that day to be today.

Yugo had stated multiple times how much he wanted to stay if there was ever a possible way, he wanted to show you his world yes, even if it was wrong, even if it wasn't the prettiest, but he knew he could never bring you there, because he had no idea how to return and it was too dangerous. He'd feel useless if you were somehow hurt or taken. He would spend hours telling you about what he did enjoy from the future though, how he got to play his music, being part of the hope for humans as androids took over. Despite doing everything right though, he was still silenced. He would never bring you to that kind of world, if he could help it.

Maybe that's why tears couldn't stop pouring as you desperately clutched the headphones left behind, as you screamed and sobbed into the phone, gentle voices coming from the other end as Uki and Fulgur tried to calm you. They had no clue where their friend had vanished, only assuming it was back to his original timeline after a second thought.

He loved you, he had said hundreds of times that he loved you, so why did he leave? Was it willingly? Forcedly? Where was your beloved DJ now...?

Was he truly gone and never to return...?

What about all the plans, the promised dates, celebrating your 1st year anniversary, the engagement ring that resided in his bedside table...

Where had he gone, and would he ever find a way back to you? Back home...?

Luca Kaneshiro:

He knew it was wrong, sitting at a bar drowning away his sorrows, but it was the only way he knew how to cope in a new world that he was unfamiliar with, alone...

He was completely alone, without his family, without his sister, without you...

It was quiet, well as quiet as a club could be, multiple girls and guys had tried to make attempts on him, but all were completely ignored. Any drinks sent his way we're turned down or poured into the drain of the bartender's sink. He didn't want to see anyone, he didn't want to talk to anyone, he just wanted to go home.

Closing out his tab, Luca was left alone once more, wandering the streets, missing everything he no longer had in this future. Anyone could see the polaroid he pulled out, the tears that fell into the fluffy fur of his coat, and the soft sobs as your scent flooded his senses. He didn't want to be alone anymore, he missed the Lucubs, he missed Lucy. As much as Luxiem helped, they weren't you. He missed the way you'd run up to him as he returned from a mission, doting on every visible wound, wanting nothing more than to help him.

Maybe one day, he'd be able to feel your touch again, to feel the curve of your body next to his as you both lay to rest, the sound of your laugh as he wins a joke argument.

Maybe one day, he'll get to replace the engagement ring with a wedding band...

-----------------------------------------

Authors Note: I know Yugo is no longer part of Noctyx, I wasn't even planning on writing for Noctyx due to lack of knowledge, but I loved Yugo, a lot of people loved Yugo. We were heartbroken to see him go so if any time there's a Niji/Indie request for Yugo or U-san, I will gladly write it.

[hazzypisce]

Jegulus mini one-shot (implied jegulily)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Toxicomania

Ao3 link:

Summary:

James and Regulus died because of their addictions (caused by the war’s stress and losses) and left baby Harry a letter expressing their feelings.

Notes:

Ok, so I don’t remember why I wrote this but I’ve found the draft so I guess I will post it now, as a very short one-shot, after having classes about “Toxicomania” :)

Probably, it was about something that had happened in my life.

Pls, tell me if you find any mistakes!

Words:

774

Additional Tags:

Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Letters, Character Death, alcoholic james potter, Trans Regulus Black, Post-Second Wizarding War with Voldemort (Harry Potter), Addiction, Cigarettes, Implied/Referenced Alcohol, Abuse/Alcoholism, Regret.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Hello baby,

I know you probably miss us as much as we will miss you, but you have to understand that the effects of the war stayed with this family, even in our happiest moments, like the day you were born. We couldn’t bear the thought of ruining this family with our traumas and bad habits. We are sorry for all the days you saw us drinking and smoking until we passed out on the family couch.]

You may not realize it now, but we’ve tried, I swear. We went to therapy, we took a handful of medications every day and we tried getting better for you.

But everything that happened in the worst years of our lives, everyone that has died in front of our very eyes, hunted us until our last breath. It is honestly gut-wrenching to think that you will grow up and maybe resent us, maybe for having you while we were depressed and getting addicted, maybe for making you live somewhere else with your uncle, far away from all your friends, but it is what it is.

We also hope you will forget that rainy angst day that took us away as the night started. It was a day just like any other, me and your father were thinking of the dark times when lord Voldemort killed your mother Lily while drinking on the couch. And as the dark started to appear, we had gone away with the sun, little by little. I can’t exactly remember if it was the alcohol or if it was our hearts that stopped working, but the second I opened my eyes and saw your father glowing under the moon in the middle of a very dark forest, I knew that we were no longer going to be with you and maybe it was for the best.

We killed ourselves, but we know that you will be in great hands and will succeed in life. Maybe in some other world, we’ve had an intervention and learned how to cope with our past for you, but someone can only dream of that now.

In reality, let’s face it, we couldn't have done anything, we were destined to die together this way. Sirius, Remus, Marlene, Dorcas, and even Peter tried to help, but to no avail, we knew we were in a critical state, but at the same time, we didn't think it was that bad. Being addicted to something, especially when it destroys you and your loved ones, hurts and it is difficult to stop, you know?

It turns out that drowning in your sorrows and worries with these things is not the most brilliant idea someone can have, but amid the chaos of war, fights, family problems, identity crises, and eventually a pregnancy, despair speaks louder.

And that's how we started with this whole story, before managing to hold it together for a few years. I think it's worth highlighting that for a long time, between the pregnancy and Harry's birthday (I don’t know which one tho), we were fine, Reg and me in this case, because soon after I started dating him, he had the long-awaited masculinizing mammoplasty, and everything was getting better after a succession of stresses.

But then Lily showed up holding a baby that I didn’t even know existed, and I freaked out after she told me it was ours. But we eventually liked the idea of being parents and were over the moon with the news, even though Reg was scared that someone would refer to him as your “mom”.

But it didn't last long before our problems and addictions came back, with full force. And just like that, the house smelled like cigarettes and alcohol again. Along with the bitter taste of death after Lily’s passing, the very last act of Voldemort and his followers. I can't remember exactly when habits so dark and forgotten in a deep sleep resurfaced, but I'll never forget Harry's face watching me vomit until I almost passed out after drinking too much, or when he came across his other father smoking three packs of cigarettes in one afternoon. We were a lot worse than we thought, and now I kind of wish I had passed laying on Reggie’s lap, it would be the last bit of happiness I would have experienced.

And to be honest, you got rid of the people that were most hurting you. We are so sorry, son. Please seek help and talk with your uncle and our friends if you need to. We want you to continue with life and thrive.

With love, your fathers James and Regulus.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

"My heart feels for you, my dear friend, in your deep, deep trial. This present world is a world of sadness; but when we think of that world which is to come, into which sorrow never enters, and how soon we may be there, we may well "rejoice in tribulation." Our "light affliction, which is but for a moment, works for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." In all your sorrows, pour out your heart to the Man of sorrows. He will bow down His ear and listen to all you say, and will either remove or moderate your trial, and give you strength to bear it. Even this bitter draught He has given you to drink shall result both in your good and His own glory. Remember, not a sparrow falls upon the ground without His guidance, and that the very hairs of your head are all numbered. How much more has this trying event been ordered and arranged by Him who loves you! Infinite wisdom has appointed the whole! Never doubt that He loves you when He the most deeply afflicts. "When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you." May He lift up upon you the light of His countenance, drawing you nearer to Himself, that you may see what a tender, loving heart He has for you, and how deeply and tenderly and considerately He cares for you, as if there were not another poor sorrowful one to care for on the face of the whole earth!"

~ Mary Winslow 1774-1854 (mother of Octavius Winslow)

Source: https://www.facebook.com/CompletelyCommittedChristian

[more-than-fluff]

Comfort Ft Taehyung

FriendTaehyung x Y/N

Summary - You lose your job, drown your sorrows and only one number you call can save you.

"I'm sorry Y/N but there was nothing else I could do."

An envelope hung in your hands containing a paycheck, your last paycheck. You had always been the top seller but one month your numbers slip and they suddenly can't afford to keep you.

"I promise I can get it back, please give me another chance, I love this job so much. Don't take it away from me, please."

You fought back tears. Crying in front of your boss is a big no in your book.

"Again, I'm sorry Y/N we've given you multiple chances, but you just haven't pulled it back like you used to. We can't afford to keep you if you keep losing us money. I'm sorry, but today was your last day."

You looked down in defeat. The one job you enjoyed had just blown up in your face. You exited the building and stood still. What do you do now? Call your mum? No, you can't deal with another dose of overbearing sympathy. She means well but you're not ready for that tonight.

A drink would be nice.

You start walking and think of the strongest drink you could think of. You get to your favourite place to drink, aesthetic and not too expensive. Normally a place for you and all your girlfriends to hang out but tonight you needed to do this by yourself. No one to tell you to stop. Perfect.

You order your first drink and that's when you pull out your phone and see a single message pop up from Tae. Your closest friend, usually the first person you would've told your news to but you couldn't even face him right now. This feels worse than a break up. And the message didn't help.

"How did work go?? Got those sales in?"

You put your phone down and accept the drink placed in front of you. You hold back from downing it, but the taste of alcohol welcomes you like an old friend.

By the time you remember to reply to Tae's message, you may have been a little tipsy. But that's probably for the best. Otherwise, it would just be tears and blubbering from your part.

"Heyyyy so I got fired hehehaha. My gwod isn't god enough apperntky."

You hit send and ordered one more drink but got swiftly interrupted by your phone ringing. Tae's name lit up the screen.

"Heyy best friend." You answered, trying hard not to slur your words.

"Where are you, Y/N? You're drunk and alone. I'm picking you up."

"Alright, mister grumpy. Why can't I be by myself? In fact, I've made good friends with the bartender, and I'm sure he'll keep me company."

You hear a sigh come through the phone.

"Y/N, you know I can't leave you there. You're upset and drunk. Both are not good. Where are you?"

You slump onto the bar before admitting defeat.

"My favourite place, the one we always take photos in. Can I have one more drink before you come? It's happy hour."

Silence for a second.

"Really, Y/N? No, you can't. By the sound of it you won't be able to stand without help. Plus, I'm almost there. You're lucky I'm a fast walker."

"Party pooper."

"That's exactly what I am. Give me five minutes and I'll be there."

You put the phone down as in this moment you prioritised the drink you haven't finished and spent too much money on it to waste. Especially as you are now unemployed.

You felt your eyelids get heavier as you waited. You'll just close them for a second, he won't be long. Some quiet for a second, this is nice.

"Come on Y/N."

You open one eye, that deep voice is instantly recognisable. Turning around you see your bestie.

"Taeee."

You say, really trying to act sober. It's not working. Holding your coat, he helps you up from your chair. Only now you realise how not sober you are, the world spins and the floor is suddenly very wobbly.

"Careful Y/N, I got you."

Tae holds you up, his arms wrapping around d your waist to keep you up.

"Come on, let's go home."

He guides you out the bar, but the wave of cold air hits you like a tonne of bricks, and your balance goes once again. Almost falling over you really try to keep on your feet but they're just not working anymore. Tae kneels down in front of you and pats his shoulder.

"Junp on Y/N, otherwise we're never getting home."

You didn't even bother protesting and climbed into his back. He stood with ease and started walking. But this isn't the direction of your place.

"I live in the other direction." You slur.

Tae chuckles softly.

"Do you really think I'm letting you go home on your own tonight? We're going to mine. I'm sleeping on the sofa tonight."

You rest your head on his shoulder, wrap your arms around him tight.

"What did I do to deserve you Tae?"

You turns his head to look at you.

"Not enough, fortunately you just have the bestest friend in the world who doesn't want to see their girl in this state."

You smile to yourself, but it slowly fades.

"I haven't got a job anymore."

You feel his shoulders drop.

"I know, they don't deserve you Y/N. You don't deserve to be treated like that."

Those tears appear at your eyes again. You Bury your head into his shoulder.

"What am I gonna do? All I did was get drunk. That's not good Tae."

He sighs again.

"Well, we'll just focus on tonight, and tonight we are going home. You are going straight to bed to sleep, and you will wake with a lovely hangover."

You couldn't help but laugh as he finished his sentence. The rest of the walk, you both stayed quiet. It wasn't long before you got to his apartment. He walks you straight through to his bedroom. His scent fills you. The comfort it brings you is intense.

He lays you on his bed. You are really fighting to stay awake at this point, but help as he takes your shoes off and dresses you into something more comfortable. He grabs one of his large shirts, your favourite. Even as best friends, you 'borrow'his clothes.

Laying in bed, he sits beside you with a glass of water in his hand and puts it down on the bedside table along with some painkillers ready for the morning.

Your eyes are closed, and he assumes you're sleeping. You feel the weight shifts as he stands to go, but you grab his wrist.

"Stay, please." You manage to say.

"I'll only be in the room next door." He says quietly, kneeling beside you.

You open your eyes to look at him.

"I don't want to be alone Tae, please. Lay next to me."

He looks right through you, his eyes softening. He stands and walks around the bed. It drops beside you, and you feel his presence grow stronger. He lays on his back, you turn to face him and place your hand on his chest.

"Hold me Tae, please."

You feel him stiffen slightly.

"Y/N, you're drunk. Please sleep."

You look up at him.

"No Tae, I need this. I need you. Hold me."

"Y/N"

"Tae, your comfort is all I need right now. I need your arms around me."

You turn away from him in hopes that he will turn to you. There's a moment of still, but you then feel him move closer to you. An arm moving around your waist, his hand resting in your stomach. You hold him close. This is the best you've felt all day. But too drunk to feel as conflicted as Tae feels in this situation.

"Goodnight Y/N"

You swore you felt a kiss brush your shoulder, but you were dreaming before you could give it a second thought.

God, your head hurts.

This was all you could think of when you woke. Last night was a blur. You lost your job, ouch. You went to the bar and got wasted, and Tae came to get you. Before you could of what happened next you felt a weight around your waist. Taes arm was still around you, he was still asleep. Or at least you thought he was.

"Good morning sleepy head."

You turn instantly to face him.

"Tae I'm so sorry I was so drunk, I can barely remember getting back here."

He smirked and looked you right in the eyes.

"You were hurting Y/N, and to be honest, it hurt me seeing you like that, and feeling you soften in my hold made me feel better."

You felt your cheeks blush. You didn't think you'd feel anything for your lifetime friend, but now you can't help but feel something a bit more.

"Tae I don't know what I'd do without you."

A mischievous look came across his face.

"You'd probably be in a ditch or kidnapped by a random man who saw your beauty through the many drinks you had."

You hit his shoulder before sitting up, his laughter in the background couldn't stop you from smiling and eventually joining in. The pain in your head comes back though.

"Look to your left." You hear Tae stay through a chuckle.

You look and see the water and painkillers he set out last night.

"Tae, I love you." You say as your reach over and take them.

You lay and face him again. He brushes a hair out from your face and tucks it behind your ear.

"If only you actually meant it." He says.

You look at him confused at first, but then your eyes widen.

"Tae wha-"

Before you had a chance to reply, his lips collided with yours. He's kissing you. Your best friend is kissing you. But it feels so right. You kiss back, and you can feel him smile. He holds you close as the kiss gets deeper. You both intertwine with each other. You don't want this moment to end, but he pulls away.

All you can do is look at him, his eyes taking you all in. He looks at your lips and kisses you one more time.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

You look at him in awe.

"I had no idea you wanted to do that!"

He chuckles.

"I know, why do you think I haven't done anything. But seeing you last night, hurt and in need of someone. I hated it. And when I held you, it just felt right. I want more Y/N."

He looks at you, lustfully. Your eyes widen as you instantly read his mind. A dirty mind at that. You feel for the pillow beside you and aim it directly at his face. He yelps in surprise.

"Now, now mister, we've got to go through so many things. I think I only had a crush, but you were way deeper."

He puts the pillow down.

"So you were crushing on me."

You climbed out of bed, embarrassment filling you.

"I'm taking a shower, I need a moment to process this whole thing."

He laughs and sits up.

"Go ahead, Princess, you can prepare yourself for a day of job searching. Don't think you got out of that."

You turn and head toward the bathroom, a smile blooming. Something you never thought you could achieve after yesterday. But Tae is the person who could change that for more than one reason.

[heartsoulspiritelite]

~

Matt jackson x Hangman Adam Page

Summary

Matt Jackson and Hangman Adam Page got into a simple misunderstanding but it ended up starting an argument and ending with the two admitting their feelings to one another.

~

Misunderstandings to secrets being revealed

Hangman sat alone in his favorite corner booth of the local bar, nursing his drink and drowning his sorrows. It had been a long and confusing day, and the weight of the miscommunication between him and oldest buck had become too much to bear.

Earlier that day, they had gotten into a heated argument, words flying back and forth in a whirlwind of frustration and hurt. It had all started with a simple misunderstanding honestly it was a small disagreement, but quickly escalated into something much bigger.

Adam had never been good at expressing his emotions, often resorting to retreating into himself rather than confronting his feelings head on.

And that's exactly what he had done after the fight. He had spent the past few hours drowning his pain in whiskey and his own tears, hoping to numb the ache in his heart.

As he stumbled through the front door of their shared apartment, the scent of stale alcohol clinging to his clothes, Adam felt a wave of loneliness wash over him.

His tear-stained face was a look into his heart and revealed to the emotional torment he had endured.

In the dimly lit living room, he found Matt sitting on the couch, his eyes red and puffy, clearly having shed tears of his own. Guilt washed over him as he realized the pain he had caused his best friend.

Without saying a word, Matt rushed to Adam's side, wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace. Adam's body shook with sobs as he buried his face in Matt's chest, finally letting go of the walls he had built around his heart.

"I'm so sorry, Matt," Adam choked out between his cries. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I don't know how to say what I feel."

Matt's voice was gentle and filled with understanding as he caressed Adam's hair, his touch bringing a sense of comfort that Adam desperately needed.

"Shh, it's okay, Adam. I understand. I should have listened better. I should have been there for you."

As Adam's tears subsided, Matt guided him to the couch, sitting beside him, Their legs were touching, their shoulders barely brushing against each other. It felt safe, like they were in their own little world where nothing else mattered.

With a soft sigh, Matt mustered the courage to confess his own feelings after hanger sobered up a bit more.

"You know, Adam, I've been scared too. Scared that if I let my guard down and admitted how much you mean to me, I would only end up hurting you more. But today, I realized that keeping my feelings hidden does more damage than just being honest ever could." Matt admits

Adam turned his head to look at Matt, his eyes glistening with hope.

"You... you mean that?" He whispered in slight shock

Matt nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"More than you'll ever know, cowboy. I've loved you for longer than I can remember. And if you'll let me, I want to be there to help you overcome your insecurities, to be the partner you deserve."

A single tear rolled down Adam's cheek, but this time it was a tear of happiness. He reached out, intertwining his fingers with Matt's.

"I want that too, Matt" Adam whispered.

As they sat there, their bodies pressed together, a newfound sense of peace filled the room, promising a fresh start for their hearts.

"I love you hanger" Matt whispered while staring at Adam with his signature boo boo eyes.

"I love you to matty" Adam whispered back while getting lost in his eyes.

All of the miscommunication and insecurities that had threatened to tear them apart were gone for now, they may come back for a brief visit but now they know how to get through it.

They are bridges to a deeper connection, allowing them to follow the path of their love hand in hand together.

And as their lips finally met in a tender, long, gentle overdue kiss, they knew that they had finally felt whole in each other's arms.

~Cross-posted on wattpad & ao3~

HANGMATTTT🫶🫶

[freefromfearforever]

Future Days

I see the ruins of Rome...walking amongst the creation of a people who lived so long ago, still standing today...the Parthenon and Acropolis of Athens, Greece....feet slapping the ground where thousands made their home, their livelihood in an age so far past....making friends I've never met before in foreign lands...sitting down over Turkish coffee and discussing life and love and political events... Collectively raising a toast to God in countries I've never set foot in...yet.... I have over the past months been overwhelmed with waking dreams of lands full of mystery and history...feeling the energy of souls long lost and laid in the ground....standing in churches magnificent in their architecture, frescos and murals....drinking wine or ale in pubs hundreds of years older than our own country...drinking in the history, the lives and loves set out in examples before us if only we have the ears to hear, the eyes to see....

One day...I will set foot and walk paths walked by Jesus and His disciples....ride a camel across a dry land so different from ours, greet women and men that live a faith rooted in a millennia of such worship, hardship and experience...my own faith pales before it... "There are no strangers here, only friends you haven't met yet” William Butler Yeats

This past week I had the opportunity to meet a group of coworkers from other cities/towns and sit over a cold, hard tea beer with heat hazed mountains as a backdrop. After a long day of climbing one of those mountains and the consequent slide/hike down...the cooler patio air and cold drink and good conversation revived and rejuvenated body and spirit.   I took in the buzzing of a dozen voices...the laughter and chatter...the murmurs of other patrons...observed the interaction between one of my crew and other provincial crew members she felt she could never talk to, interact with, felt awkward with....and smiled, incredibly content. We had chatted about this just hours earlier...a life lesson complete with just a few words of encouragement.... God is good...truly. Despite many differences...common ground can be found...a healthy respect for the uniqueness of each person...a love for others that transmutes, that carries across....each of us made connections that day...though we may never talk with those particular crew members again, each one of us learned something of others we did not know before and opened ourselves to growth, to an enlarging of the mind and heart for others no matter what walk of life they may trek.  

Today...I know deep within that God has a plan for me...just for me...as He does for you, just for you....each of us bring talents, characteristics, traits and foibles to the table that no one else could...we are, each of us, unique and created for a distinctive path... Today...I see the goodness of a God who orders my path, my steps...and I trust, I love, I stand rooted in the present, ready to move, to live....to experience all that this life has to offer....I see abundance, I see a life full of miracles and moments so large they overtake any pain from the past, any sorrows still hanging on... Life....life is possible dear hearts....a life of joy, of love, of grand possibilities and miracles, of a fulfilling of hopes and dreams....a fruition of work and drive.... I wondered....many times I wondered what there could be for me....the feeling of walking a foreign land amongst familiar landscapes, amongst known highways and roadways...a foreigner in my own land....oh yes, I wondered as I know you do too my friends....you wonder what there is for you now, broken and lost....that/this, is not your future...it is only the beginning of a path meant to drop, discard and defeat the demons riding upon your weary shoulders. The winding, the circling, the faltering, the flailing, the drowning....oh dear friends, it ALL comes to an end just round the next bend, over that dusty old. mountain....one day you will wake to a great lessening, to a grand alleviating, to a massive attentuation of the weight of the worlds you have been carrying upon your person, upon your spirit....you will no longer stand bent as an old crone, no!...you will stand up straight and tall....you will breathe free air again....you will soak it in, bathe in the glory of a knowledge no one will ever take from you again.... Do you see the strength within you dear hearts? Do you feel the promise of a future built upon hardships few will ever know or understand? I see you....I see you standing with hinds feet in high places, surveying the land below with God-given pride, with a light so bright you must stand apart so as not to blind.... I see you standing tall, standing proud, with dignity and grace speaking your truth...with confidence walking your own path, no one else's....I see you standing in a group, holding hands in a gathering of others who have walked a similar path of destruction, of greedy hands and mouths stealing your joy, your essence....It is time, is it not my friends? Time to speak on matters swept under the rug for years, for generations....time to break those generational lies, ties and hidden truths....Time to speak.... I pray for your discernment as you make your way out...for your protection as you find your way to freedom and a life full of joy, love and kept promises.... I pray for your continued strength, though it may feel small and insignificant...it is there, though shining small...it shines and will grow brighter to light your path. I pray for your eyes to see, your ears to hear....and the courage to accept the truth of your situation. This is not easy...it is excruciatingly hard to accept, to know that the one you love does not love you the way you need, the way you love...who feels the need to hurt, to maim, to take rather than give....remember this one thing; you are loved, needed, necessary and seen as you are, right now...broken down and so low you feel as though you are crawling through the mud, the muck, the filth...daily, moment by moment.   Right there....oh dear friends...right there is where God is, crawling with you...speaking to your heart, whispering words of love and grace...declaring new life, new hope over you.... You are not alone...never alone....rise dear hurting ones...rise to what God has for you....rise and walk...loved, cherished, needed....always.

May God walk with you this day, and every day....May He light the way, illuminating a path through the darkest of hells, the blackest of nights...