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endzithefangirl · 4 months ago

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Doubles, fries and interviews

Authors note: I love Carlos Alcaraz, like it's not even normal how big of a crush I have on him. I mean, I always cheer for Novak, he's the best but... I can't say I wasn't really happy when Carlitos won Wimbledon.

Summary: Carlos does somethng unthinkable and you just have to expose him on TikTok

Warnings: As always English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, gender not specified but the term 'girlfriend' is used

Word count: 1.6k

"I still can't believe I'm playing mixed doubles with Djokovic!" you tell Carlos excitedly over dinner. He looks at you with a smile, "I know it's a dream come true for you."

"Yeah. He's actually really funny and very nice." He chuckles and looks at you, leaning back in his chair. "And very handsome, yeah," he says, teasing.

"I'm sure his wife thinks so."

He looks at you fondly. "I'm sure she does, lucky woman."

"He makes a lot of jokes," you say, taking one of Carlos' fries. He watches you take the fry and narrows his eyes at you jokingly. "You say that as if he's funnier than me."

You narrow your eyes back at him jokingly. "You know, he made a joke about us."

His interest perks up at that, and he raises an eyebrow. "About us? What did he say?"

"He asked me if I could prevent you from reaching the Wimbledon finals next year."

He looks at you, mock offended. "And what did you say to that?"

"I said, 'Oh, how do you expect me to do that? Want me to break his arm?'" He tries to keep a straight face, but a smirk keeps creeping over his lips.

"And what did he say after that?"

"He said, 'I was thinking leg, but arm could do too.'"

At that point, Carlos lets out a snort of laughter. "Sounds like he's really planning to stop me in any way possible, eh?"

You throw your hands in the air. "Listen, listen, I love Iga, right? But... if she fell down the stairs right before Roland-Garros... I can't say a part of me wouldn't be happy."

Carlos nearly spits out his drink at that comment as he bursts into laughter. "Oh my God, you are too much sometimes."

"What can I say, I go for the kill," you joke, taking another one of his fries. He watches as you take another one of his fries and rolls his eyes playfully. Carlos moves his plate a little further away from you. "Stop eating my food, woman."

"Heeeeyy, I only took like three fries!" you protest.

"Three of my fries," he stresses the possessive, sticking his tongue out at you. You pout and take out your phone, sitting back. He laughs at your childish pouting and takes the chance to eat in peace as you take out your phone.

"Guys, my boyfriend just said he wants to break up with me," you say to your phone camera. Carlos' eyes go wide. "Wha— I did not say that!"

You don't let him speak and continue into the camera with a serious face. "I think this is the end of our relationship. I mean, what he said... I just can't forgive. I mean, he might as well have cheated on me. This is just... the worst thing a boyfriend can tell his girlfriend," you continue all serious. Carlos sits there, watching with his mouth open in shock as you keep going on the camera, not sure if he should say anything. "He said, and I quote, ladies, 'Stop eating my food.'” You sigh. "I mean... I mean, it's like I mean nothing," you say, slightly laughing at the end to show that it isn't serious.

"Yes, yes, I'm horrible, I know..."

"Oh, this is a good one. I'm putting this on TikTok," you laugh, watching the video back.

"Of course you are, you have like 2 million followers on that app."

You take a sip of your drink as you upload the video. Just a couple of minutes later, your phone pings, showing all the comments that were pouring in under the video. "Anna says, 'Immediate break up, throw him in the trash.'" You laugh as you like her comment.

"I'm glad that people agree with you that I'm the worst boyfriend known to man."

You put the phone away. "You're not the worst boyfriend. You're the best. I just have to make fun of you sometimes." He softens at that, and his sarcastic expression melts into a genuine smile. "I know, I know, I understand." He grabs your hand across the table and caresses it with his thumb.

"May I please have one more fry, Carlitos?" you ask politely with a sigh. He thinks about it for a second before nodding. "Oh, alright, but only one," he says, holding up a finger to emphasize the "one" part.

You take only one, dip it into ketchup, and eat it very slowly. After that, you take the hand that isn't holding his and put it up in defeat. He watches you, amused at your overly deliberate eating.

"See, you can listen to instructions sometimes."

You roll your eyes playfully. "Love you too, by the way."

He lets out a soft chuckle and rubs your hand with his thumb. "Mhm, I know, I know. Love you too."

After dinner, you make your way back to the hotel, hand in hand, as per his insisting. As you were waiting in some line, you check your phone and laugh. He notices you looking at your phone and gives you a curious glance. "Hmm, what's so funny?"

"The official Wimbledon TikTok account commented under my video."

He raises his eyebrows at that. "Really? What did they say?"

"'We are revoking his Wimbledon Buffet pass immediately.'"

He chuckles at that. "Oh no, not the buffet pass! That's the most important part of Wimbledon, obviously!"

You laugh. "I can already tell you're gonna get a lot of questions about this at the press conference tomorrow..." He feigns a look of terror.

"Oh god, you're right, what have you done!" he says in an exaggerated manner with a smirk. You laugh and then take his hand to kiss the back of it. "Don't worry, I'll save you," you say in a joking tone, although Carlos is pretty sure you would actually beat someone up for him if need be. He chuckles at that and looks at you with a warm smile. "My knight in shining armor... thank you, mi amor."

You reach the hotel. As you stand alone in the elevator, Carlos still holding your hand tightly, you turn to him. "Are we going to our separate beds, or do you wanna hang out more?"

Carlos looks at you and caresses your cheek gently, studying your face for a moment as he thinks about it. "Hang out more, definitely hang out more."

"Your room or mine?"

He thinks about it for a second before replying, his eyes fixed on yours. "My room, if that's alright with you."

"Sure," you say, not minding at all. The elevator stops on Carlos' floor and the doors open. He lets go of your hand and places it on your lower back, gently leading you down the hall to his room. Once you reach the room, he unlocks the door and opens it for you, gesturing for you to enter first. You enter his hotel room, putting your bag on the bedside table that he's not using. After taking your shoes off, you then sit on his bed. He closes the door behind him and joins you sitting on the bed. He scoots closer to you until your thighs are touching.

"Hi" you say teasingly as he sits next to you with that cute stupid grin. He laughs softly and nudges you playfully with his shoulder. "Hi to you too."

"Wanna do something, or are we gonna sit here like we're on a date in the fifth grade?"

He chuckles at your little jab and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. "Hmm, I think I have some ideas to pass the time."

You lay down next to him, now staring at the ceiling. "So what are we gonna do? Wanna watch something?"

He hums and nods slightly. "We could watch something. As long as I get to hold you, I don't care what we watch."

"Ah," you say with a soft laugh, "so the usual." He leans into you as you lay facing the TV, his head on your chest and his arms wrapped around you. You put one hand into his hair, running your fingers through it, taking the remote with the other, lowering the volume, and scrolling through channels. With his head on your chest, he can hear your heartbeat, a steady and comforting rhythm that he loves. Carlos feels himself relax as your fingers run through his hair, closing his eyes partially as the feeling soothes him. He, as expected, falls asleep like that. You don't move, allowing him to sleep like that for a bit before moving him into a more acceptable position.

The next day after Carlos won his round of 16 Australian Open match he went up onto the interview stage. The interviewer, holding the microphone close to his face, starts with the familiar "Congratulations on the win, it was quite the performance out there." Carlos flashes a smile and nods at the compliment, slightly out of breath from the match. "Thank you, I'm just glad to have won that one."

"Now, Carlos, you might not have been in much trouble during the match, but you were in trouble with your girlfriend." The crowd laughed. He sighs softly, knowing exactly what the interviewer is referring to. He chuckles slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh yeah... I am in the doghouse currently, that is correct, yeah."

"Hopefully you know, you won't be demoted to the couch; you need to keep your back in good shape for matches," the interviewer said, and the crowd laughed.

#carlos alcaraz x reader #carlos alcaraz imagine #carlos alcaraz #carlitos alcaraz #tennis #tennis x reader

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ay0nha · 1 year ago

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An Ode to Ruination | T.S.

SUMMARY: Tommy was addicting. Chronic. His aura was intimidating. He was callus to those close to him. And yet, there was that desire to sink below that murky water—drown in him entirely when his want was so clear in his breath.

PAIRING: Tommy Shelby x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.5K

WARNINGS: ANGST, swearing, smoking, drinking, semi-preoccupations with thoughts of death/suicide, mutual pining, meanish tommy because his feelings are hurt, canon-typical things, protective!tommy, rushed ending, etc.

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I’m back on my bullshit. This is inspired by @zodiyack‘s request/post (here). HAD to get it out of my system, I mean look how pretty he is. This is a mix of Old writing I had to dust off the cob webs for mixed with new stuff, so be kind. Enjoy.

“You’re leaving.”

Tommy’s tone was sterile. It left little room for interpretation or defiance. The statement came without hesitation but held pent-up sentiment veiled by familiar poise. You vetted his blank gaze for proper determination of his upset.

The cracks behind his exterior were so deeply concealed you hadn’t thought anything could slip between. Yet, standing before him, your decision was the ice-pick that’s pressure had shattered him.

“Ada told you?” You hummed with formality; his presence clearly a response to the question. “London will treat me well.”

Tommy tracked your movements. You envied how he filled the space better than you. Perhaps it was the vulnerability in his presence. Regardless, you felt like a guest in your own home. You felt caught, exposed.

The air was thick, causing Tommy’s deep breaths hard to hide behind a crackling record that you had on a continual loop, never able to stand too much silence. Your bags were organized beside the door for the morning, causing your heart to echo against the empty walls.

There was an odd sense of pride you felt with his presence. It confirmed the distant admiration that Tommy held for years. That the shared affection wasn’t something fabricated but complex. You respected his drive, but your desires fell elsewhere. He carved space for you despite your protests, but you could never be the one to fill it—you could never be his.

“A better life, eh?” Tommy mocked you, cigarette rolling over his lips with habit. “Fucks sake.” The confidence in his demeanor faltered. But he regained it quickly with a bitter laugh, “...I’ve given you everything, and here you are asking for more.”

With an instinct to comfort him, you wanted to reach for him. It spoke of your ability to read him and how exhausting it had become to interpret. He would miss you.

“Tommy—” You began. The calmness in your voice was deceiving. You could see it in his face, how expectant he was for you to tell him you’d stay. “—I’m not safe with you.” You paused, letting your admission sink in just as harshly as his words had, “I’m going to London.”

—

The bliss was idyllic.

Your wrist balanced on the windowsill as you lazily tapped the ash of your cigarette. The cool air caressed your arm and gave you goosebumps that reminded you that you were still alive. Human. Your senses were perked. The city outside kept you attentive as your head rested back. The day was long, but hearing the taxis carrying bubbling people made it worth it. You imagined how some were on their way to find warmth in their home while others were dressed for an endless night of laughter.

The living room was empty and quiet. You could no longer hear Ada’s shuffling feet above you, ushering both her and Karl to sleep. It was odd that you found such freedom with them. Protection of sorts that you could rely on as a necessary stepping stone. It caused a headache to form at the back of your head, reminding you of your lack of sleep.

Privilege came with the name associated that made your stomach churn. It was simple to push Tommy into a subconscious level. The task became daunting; an ache emerged from so deep within that it took months to realize from the start he was responsible. It was as though you could feel how his eyes were still on you.

It became a habit to remind yourself of your newfound safety. The distance created life: happiness and tranquility. You traded bloody nights for bedtime stories, sewing razor-filled caps for gin-filled gatherings, and Tommy’s scarcity of communication for peaceful nights like tonight.

A disruption was overdue. You answered the phone after the third ring.

“Ada?” The voice was unmistakable, even if it was whiskey drenched. It took him a beat to realize you were on the other end. “... ’m callin’ for Ada.”

Chewing on your lip, you debated silence and pretended like the call had never begun. But that incessant ache begged to be relieved.

“I can wake her.” Your voice was soft, promising something you were unwilling to do. It was nicety that filled the quietness you were met with.

“I—uh—” Tommy sighed deeply. The words were lost, jumbled behind an always racing mind. You could picture him well; his crisp shirt no longer having life as it was rolled up by anxiety, his tie no longer present, but still suffocating him, and everything around him reflecting how he moved with an intemperate haze. “—I’m drowning—”

“Tommy…” You refused to burst, but his name on your tongue tattered between warning and heartbreak. When he drank, he opened up to you, a foolish cycle. “Let me get Ada…”

The dark chuckle on the other end forced you to press yourself closer to the phone. “Sometimes, I wish I were dead so you'd think of me.”

A frown perked your lips. You were made out to be more heartless than the most heartless man you knew. It was a naive guilt trip that you almost slipped on. “Be fair to me, Tommy.”

There was a crackle on the other end, a cigarette lit purely by regret. The drag was long, trying to pull something thoughtful from a blurred mind. The reports he received from those he paid off weren’t enough. You were thriving with his absence, seen with a mix of people who, even acquaintances, valued you better. It elicited resentful envy. However, out of arms reach, you worried Tommy endlessly. The London associates sought blood, no matter who provided it. The paranoia was ruining him, and no answer could reassure him.

“You a communist yet?” Tommy cleared his throat with a vulnerability that was only reserved for this night. Maybe, you thought, it was an effort on his part.

“Almost…” The teasing comforted a dodged homesickness. “Think my card got lost in the post.”

“Shame.” He tutted with a gentle wit. There was a tender sadness he carried with him. It was almost as volatile as his anger. It was easy to blame it on the war, but it had latched onto him long before, never planning to let go.

You imagined how his exhaustion mapped along his body. His body probably mirrored your own; head back, limbs weakly sprawled, heavy-lidded eyes imagining the other beside each other, and a mutual worry that bounced between you.

“I am happy, Tommy…” Your promise was delayed, hardly believable. “Ada and I do miss everyone.”

I miss you.

Tommy hummed, “...have a funny way of showin’ that.”

“You haven’t seen our smoke signals?”

The laugh you were met with was small, light, and barely there, but it rushed through your limbs and heated your chest. You had a moment to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. Tommy was addicting. Chronic. His aura was intimidating. He was callous to those close to him. And yet, there was that desire to sink below that murky water—drown in him entirely when his want was so clear in his breath.

—

You knew Tommy would be there. For Ada—you reminded yourself. Yet, seeing him so closely caused your heart to lurch, your blood leaving your extremities with such fascination that you became light-headed.

“Drink.” Ada all but scolded you, crystal pushed into your hand. The instruction was welcomed, but it wasn’t enough to settle you. “Otherwise, you’ll clam up if Tommy bothers to find us.”

Tommy worked the crowd well. It was a feigned charm that he played into only for advantage. Although he claimed to be here for family, business always loomed. Ada hadn’t cared either way, the glitz far too intriguing to question his sudden presence in the city.

“Give him time…” Ada spoke openly to the air, her night’s indulgence tracing her words. “...always time with that one—wastes it, and yet, expects you to be there when he hollers. Does your head in, it does…”

The champagne bubbled down your throat. The night was meant to be celebratory, but you’d be lying if you said you knew why. It was a part of your distinction from the Shelby family that you questioned if ignorance truly brought you bliss.

“Surprised he came himself. Thomas Shelby in the flesh,” Ada continued with ease, mocking her brother. “Surprised he even lifted a pinky. Typically one of his goons—” She looked to you, her revelation cutting her off. “You do understand what you do to him, don’t you?”

“I don’t want to.” Your words were sharp. Your eyes filtered the crowd for the gloved waiter to replace your glass. “There’s nothing that I—I’ve put all that behind me.”

“That?” She pressed with practiced bits of patience. Ada’s smile grew comically. The shy glancing took years to turn into full sentences and Ada knew firsthand how to read her brother, and the way he lingered spoke volumes. He was past smitten.

It was all or nothing; you were it.

You were grateful how her attention shifted to her own relationship. You never tired of hearing how Freddie treated her and loved her since they were children. There was somberness in her eyes, but devotion carried in her words. You saw how she carried him with her; certain mannerisms mirrored not only in her but Karl. Love withstood.

There was a point in your life you believed you’d find something similar. You hadn’t faulted your growing mind; it was natural to romanticism your future at such a young age. Those around you promised there was something fruitful to look forward to. However, life proved difficult; men remained boys, and the only person that you regarded stalked toward you as if you were nothing more than a stranger.

“Ada.” Tommy approached his sister as if she were alone. He’d visited her in the city multiple times but never once shared the air with you. “Enjoying yourself tonight, eh?”

“Mothers can still have fun.” She teased him with a peck on the cheek. Even in her state, she ridiculed her brother’s behavior. With a shoulder pushed against his, Ada encouraged Tommy to acknowledge you. “Have you no manners?”

To others, his expression may have appeared vacant. However, Tommy wrestled with himself, unsure how to maneuver in uncharted territory. Stalling, his eyes danced the crowd as he languidly out his matches and carton. It denoted how natural his icy illusion became, and now he seemed able to practice it on you. Once he landed on you, you realized why he struggled to meet your eyes. It was his only form of self-defense.

“London suits you.” Tommy nodded, his greeting muffled through the newly lit cigarette. The small rush it gave him was enough to stay vigilant.

“It has its moments.” Your chest perked from the attention and chill, but Tommy’s eyes never faltered from your own. You were daring him to take your body in. It was the sole reason you chose a dress that cut low both front and back.

Tommy was never a blind man.

Nor was his sister. Ada excused herself, claiming whatever ‘this’ was, she wanted no part. You are no fun, she said. However, you weren’t sure who it was directed to. You held back from following her, but your shoulders remained open; you wouldn’t fold into yourself.

“I didn’t know communists could have fun…” Tommy mumbled to himself, eyes going to the crowd once more. Ada’s self-imposed isolation rippled through the family, only fracturing the stress of everyone’s well-being.

A scoff bubbled in your throat, “And what do you know about pleasure?”

“Pleasure?” Tommy became focused and pointed with his words. “Pleasure doesn’t exist.”

Eyebrows cinching with frustration, you stepped closer to be heard, “Don’t pretend like your pleasures don’t have names.”

That drunken call all those nights ago was a mistake. It showed you insight into a dream. In that dream, Tommy was free of what haunted him, light and present. Faithful. There his voice wrapped you in warmth with fulfilled promises. You never were as skilled at hiding your emotions. Your heart was broken on your sleeve.

“I’m going to—

There wasn’t a need for a protective air as those around Tommy knew never to challenge him. However, far and few between, there were those men self-entitled with such idiocy; they couldn’t recognize they were prey.

“Thomas Shelby. Birmingham man in London.” A hand clapped down on his shoulder, breaking the forming bubble around you. “Thought that was you! This must be the missus…”

“Not quite.” Your tone was bare, your hand extending with trained expertise. You could handle pleasantries. But the man was bold, leaving a damp kiss on your knuckles as if marking you.

Tommy was subtle, moving his body to act as a buffer. Fingertips brushy feather-bare against your lower back. You thought it would end there but held back a flinch when Tommy’s warm palm flattened where your back curved.

“Ah, understood!” The man replied with a boisterous cackle. It reflected years of unfiltered nicotine and a wet and sick penchant for bourbon. “I’ll have one of you warm my bed once all of this shit is over.”

You pinned your breath to the roof of your mouth. Your loss for words wasn’t due to the ill-mannered man. It was from the brush of Tommy’s thumb against your skin. It was a comfort and an apology for how he would have to agree with the man to keep him at bay.

It was all a part of the plan you were slowly catching onto.

“A good lay is a good lay, isn’t it, Mr. Shelby?” The man prompted again, a gauge to know if the future alliance would be worth it.

“Exactly right.”

You could storm off, cause a scene. Your anger steeped deeper than that. It lived in your bones, morphing into something vindictive. You stayed the course and played your part willingly. The morals you lectured Tommy on didn’t matter anymore when all along he had the upper hand.

To the man, you were a plaything, someone who the conversation held no standing. The information would be forgotten, implied confidentiality, as you’d move on to your next client. However, the further you orchestrated the conversation to continue, the more you learned.

The night was a business move, another party dosed in secrets and danger. You took in the man’s features, noting how he was aging, greys just starting to filter through his scalp. Your stomach turned, knowing there would be a bullet between his eyes by the end of the evening. The interaction was a courtesy.

Once alone again, you didn’t hesitate to move from Tommy’s shield. You felt dirtied.

“I can’t believe you.” You spat. “You’re incapable of—

“Enough.” Tommy’s words were low. He pinned you with a look alone, keeping you steady. “You want to run from me, but you can’t.” You battled with him until you lost. His face hardened like you were another associate. “It was him or you.”

#q #tommy shelby #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x f!reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x f!reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

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cheynovak · 1 month ago

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Fairground

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character

Summary: Dean and Y/N are enjoying their first date night in ages at a fairground. Y/N wants to go into a haunted house, but Dean, acting oddly, declines. Y/N, leaving the haunted house, is surprised and thrilled by Dean’s sweet gesture.

Warnings: Fluff!

English is not my first language

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

This amazing idea came from @jackles010378 ❤️

The vibrant lights of the fairground glittered in the twilight, their colors reflecting in Y/N’s eyes as she glanced at Dean, walking beside her. It had been forever since they’d had a night to themselves. Hunting had a way of eating up their time, and finding a moment for a proper date was like trying to catch lightning in a bottle.

But tonight was different—tonight was just for them.

There was a playful glint in his green eyes, and Y/N felt a warmth in her chest, knowing how much he’d gone out of his way to make this night special. The distant music of a carousel drifted through the cool night air, mixing with the laughter of children and the hum of the fairground’s attractions.

Y/N strolled beside Dean, their fingers loosely intertwined. The air was filled with the smell of fried food and the distant hum of carnival rides. After what felt like ages of hunting, running, and surviving, this night was a much-needed break—a real date night.

Dean glanced down at her, a playful smirk on his lips. “So, where to first?”

Y/N scanned the fair, her eyes landing on the haunted house at the far end, its cheesy facade promising thrills and chills. Her face lit up with excitement, and she gave Dean a little tug. “The haunted house! Come on!”

But instead of the eager grin she expected, Dean hesitated. “Eh, I’m not really feeling the haunted house tonight.”

Y/N blinked in surprise. Dean, of all people, loved scary stuff—movies, haunted attractions, real-life monsters, the whole deal. This was his kind of thing. “You’re kidding, right? Since when do you pass up a haunted house?”

He shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I dunno. Just looks… lame. We’ve seen scarier stuff on a Tuesday.”

Before she could push him further, a familiar voice rang out. "Y/N! Dean!" Turning, she saw Charlie waving enthusiastically, a group of her friends in tow.

Charlie jogged over with a grin. “You guys going into the haunted house? You gotta come with us!”

Y/N turned to Dean, giving him her best puppy-dog eyes. “See? Even Charlie’s in.”

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, alright, you go. I’ll catch up in a bit. Just, uh… got something I need to take care of first.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, suspicious but intrigued. “What are you up to?”

Dean flashed her a mischievous grin. “You’ll see. Trust me.”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N followed Charlie and the others into the haunted house, though she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder one last time at Dean. He was up to something, she just knew it.

As soon as she disappeared into the dim entrance, Dean’s focus shifted to the shooting gallery just a few booths away. He’d spotted the giant teddy bear earlier—so big, it looked like it could swallow a person whole. He knew Y/N would love it. She never admitted it, but she had a soft spot for stuff like that, and Dean was determined to win it for her.

Dean sauntered up to the booth, where a gruff-looking carnie was leaning against the counter. “Three bucks for five shots,” the man said, tossing Dean an air rifle.

Dean grabbed it and sized up the targets—a row of small, spinning bulls-eyes. Easy enough. He aimed and fired.

Miss.

Frowning, he adjusted his stance and fired again.

Miss.

“Come on…” Dean muttered under his breath. This wasn’t right. His aim was solid, always had been. But every shot was veering just wide of the mark. He fired three more times, missing every shot.

"Son of a..."

“Another round?” the carnie asked, smirking.

Dean grumbled and pulled out another three dollars. “Yeah, yeah, let’s do it again.”

The second round went no better. Dean paid up for a third, and then a fourth. By the time he’d sunk eighteen bucks into the game, he was visibly frustrated.

“This is crap,” he muttered, handing over another crumpled bill. He picked up the rifle again, narrowing his eyes at the targets. He took aim, held his breath, and fired.

Miss.

"Seriously?" Dean growled, his patience wearing thin. "These guns are awful."

The carnie chuckled, crossing his arms. "Nothing wrong with the guns, pal. Maybe it’s the shooter."

Dean’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Oh, is that so?”

Without another word, he reached under his jacket and pulled out his own gun. The carnie’s cocky grin faltered as Dean leveled the weapon at the targets.

"Whoa, man, easy!" the carnie stammered, holding up his hands. "It’s just a game!"

Dean didn’t flinch. With a calm, practiced aim, he fired, knocking down the targets one by one with perfect precision. The sound of the shots echoed around the booth, drawing a few stares from passersby.

Dean lowered his gun, turning back to the now visibly nervous carnie with a smug grin. "Told you it wasn’t me."

The carnie swallowed, his bravado completely gone. “Alright, alright, you win. Just… take the bear and no more funny business, alright?”

Dean pointed to the largest one—the giant teddy bear that was practically his size. The man hauled it down from the shelf and handed it over, grumbling under his breath.

Dean grabbed the bear, its massive fluffy arms flopping over his shoulders as he carried it through the crowd. He had to shift his weight to keep from stumbling, but the grin on his face was worth it. Y/N was going to lose it when she saw this.

Meanwhile, Y/N stepped out of the haunted house, laughing with Charlie. The haunted house had been cheesy fun, full of jump scares and fake ghosts, but it was nothing compared to the real horrors she and Dean faced every day.

As she looked around for Dean, she didn’t see him anywhere. Her brow furrowed. “Where did he go?”

Charlie shrugged, glancing around. “Maybe he ditched us to get snacks?”

Before Y/N could answer, she saw movement—something big, something furry. Her eyes widened as Dean emerged from behind a booth, struggling with the gigantic teddy bear.

“Dean!” Y/N gasped, her face breaking into a smile as she jogged toward him. “What... is this?”

Dean dropped the bear in front of her, standing tall with a proud grin on his face. “Surprise, sweetheart. Thought you could use a new hunting partner.”

Y/N couldn’t stop laughing as she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I love it! You're ridiculous, you know that?"

Dean wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Yeah, but you love me for it.”

She leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "That, I do."

As they strolled through the crowed, the colorful fairground lights flickered around them, casting a warm glow over the moment. Dean squeezed her hand, the weight of the world forgotten, if only for a little while.

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@kr804573 @nancymcl@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @whimsyfinny @yvonneeeee @lmg14

#jensen ackles #fanfic #x reader #jensen fucking ackles #fluff #dean winchester #spn #supernatural fandom #supernatural dean #supernatural #deanwinchester #dean #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fluff #jensen ackles fluff

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honey-minded-hivemind · 4 months ago

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For the Hulk vs. Wolverine/Wolverine and the X-Men platonic yandere au, imagine a Reader who was either being spied on by Weapon X, or who somehow just kept following them from time to time, maybe foiling their plans (and trying to keep the poor traumatized *ssholes alive)... H*ck, maybe Reader was someone who was a potential candidate for the program...

Reader just ends up stuck with them somehow, keeps stopping them from dying or being killed off, and is at first hated or seen as weak... Except Reader still does them solids and favors without asking for anything in return or expecting anything, which leads to the growth of some... softer... feelings of the mutants for once. Because that little idiot who keeps being nice, even if they're hurt for it, is THEIR sweet little idiot or friend or pup or whatever. So they obviously should be allowed to stay...

It comes to a head when Reader actually tries to leave, be it move on to other things or somehwefe new, or abandon the group if they were part of the program, leading to mixed emotions and reactions...

🧡🦡Logan would want Reader to leave, h*ck, he's probably setting something up so they can leave amd slip away without anyone catching them. If he can, he'd leave with them... This helps activate his dad instincts, and whether he remembers this or not, he does remember Reader's scent, and that he sees them as someone to protect...

🦁🦷Sabretooth hates the idea of Reader leaving, having a soft spot for them and Logan, but would rather have them with him, make them stronger, get them to stay and not even think of leaving the program him! Would hunt them down and try try force them to stay, would even make them forget certai things if he could.

🎭💙Mystique, if she was still there at that point in time, would realize she wants Reader someone safe, where they can have a life, be innocent or at least free, and tries to help them, even if it's only in small ways. Would toss someone off a cliff for getting in Reader's way of escaping (so, the majority of everyone-)

❤🐼Deadpool would find the idea funny. Leave them? After everything? Quite the kidder, eh, kiddo? Well... that joke wasn't very funny, was it? He's against it, but treats it like a game. He won't stop Reader from trying... but he will chase them and give them a hard time, eventually dragging them back, because, look, hey, they're his buddy~! And buddies don't leave buddies behind! Reader put so much effort into them already, so why give in now?

⚡💛Maverick, if he is there at that point in time, wants what he thinks is best for Reader (his small memories/dad instincts popping up). He thinks they're safe wherever he is, so if he's with Weapon X, then Reader will join them, no matter how much of a tantrum them throw. He understands it's not... soft, being what they are or doing what they do, but he can keep them safe. The rest of the mutants? The people they all hint for a living? They can't. So it's best Reader gives in and joins them and makes it easier on themself, or they'll have to use discipline, and no one wants that...

🔪🗡Lady Deathstrike is probably fond of Reader, especially if they were kind to her or said she was beautiful or right about something. She doesn't care much if they stay or if they go, but she wants to know where they are, who they're with, and wants updates on everything they do. She's controlling, wanting a perfect version of them...

🩸🐙Omega Red would probably not care much either way. If he's soft for Reader, they were likely treating him like a person, someone who bleeds and can hurt and who needs care. Would agree Reader should stay with them, but wouldn't want to break them too much... If he thought they'd be killed, I will say he would let them go. Whatever chance guarantees their survival is what he chooses in the end...

🦡💛 If Laura/X-23 is around (depends on when this takes place), she'd be younger, so she views Reader as the closest she has to a sibling or friend. Wants them, because they're comforting and nice and sneak her treats, but doesn't understand yet that if they stayed or joined them, they'd be broken the way she and the others are... If Reader did leave, they left Laura a few gifts, mainly anything Reader had that Laura liked, so she'd have some form of comfort after Reader was gone...

No matter what, they're all somehow attached, whether they like it or not, and Reader attempting to leave them would likely crack the fragile peace they made... And if Reader did manage to escape... they're going to have to watch their back for a very long time...

(Imagine this if you want for X-Men Evolution! I'm just trying out this other X-Mem series and seeing if I like it! Enjoy this honey fresh from the comb!💛🧡🐝🍯🧪)

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere wolverine and the xmen #platonic yandere wolverine and the xmen au #platonic yandere wolverine #platonic yandere sabretooth #platonic yandere deadpool #platonic yandere mystique #platonic yandere maverick #platonic yandere lady deathstrike #platonic yandere omega red #platonic yandere laura kinney #platonic yandere x 23 #platonic yandere xmen evolution au

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cheolaholic · 1 year ago

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ring of love; csc (02)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

a/n; smol update regarding taglist, unfortunately i can only tag up to 50 people in the post and i've reached the limits and is unable to tag the remaining people that signed up om the taglist which is such a shame bcs ik a lot of yall were looking forward to be on the taglist ㅠㅠ

however, i do still want to voice out my thank yous to the immense amount of support you've all given towards this fic 😭 🫶🏻

taglist at the end !

you sat in the crowd, stunned as you watched the match progress.

gone was the unsettling and/or overwhelming feeling of being at the event. instead, you felt a surge of mixed emotions.

how did seungcheol end up being a part of the match?

how did he know vernon?

had he always been in seoul?

why hadn’t he tried to reach out to you?

a loud gasp from the crowd pulled you out from your train of thoughts. as you looked at the ring, you saw seungcheol lying on the ground, a hand over his stomach - you felt a sinking feeling in your guts.

as the crowd chanted ‘get up!’, you clasped your hands together, silently chanting along with them. ‘get up..! please, get up..! choi seungcheol, get up..!’

it seems as though he’s heard you, or possibly from the chanting from the crowd that was supporting him, as he slowly got up, the crowd starting to cheer once again. you could feel your anxiety rise as seungcheol got into his stance, preparing for another round with his opponent.

“first timer, eh?”

turning your head to the side, an older man who seems to be in his 40s gave you a gentle smile.

“pardon?” you responded.

"it's your first time experiencing this, ain't it?" he repeated. nodding your head, you turned to face seungcheol who threw an uppercut towards JK, causing him to stumble back a little.

"don't worry about scoups. he always gets back on his feet. that's why he's been the champion for the past year!"

past year…? he's been doing this for a year?

before you had a chance to ask the old man any further questions, the announcer's voice boomed through the speakers.

"and the winner is - scoups!"

the crowd erupted in cheers, accompanied with a loud applause as scoups and JK were escorted out of the ring, a text from vernon lit up your screen.

vrrnonie: come on back

vrrnonie: i'll introduce you ;D

when you got to the back, it took you ten minutes to argue with the bouncers before vernon showed up to vouch for you.

"she's with me boys, don't worry 'bout it!"

walking beside vernon as you both walked towards the waiting rooms, your nose scrunched up at the smell of sweat and body odor invading your nostrils.

"vernon, how long have you known these people?" you asked, the statement the old man made still lingering at the back of your mind.

if seungcheol had been doing underground for the past year, that meant he either knew vernon before or after he got in.

at least that's what you assumed.

"hmm, i knew mingyu first since we're in the same major!" he answered, "though, he's a year older than me, but we share a few classes together. then, he asked me if i've ever been to underground boxing matches and that's how i came to know wonwoo and coups hyung."

nodding your head, he stops in front of a door with a hanging sign that wrote "SCOUPS". just as vernon was about to open the door, whoever was on the other side decided to open it first, startling you.

standing in front of you was a tall muscular male - his skin was a nice tan and reminds you of a puppy with his curled locks.

you blink once. then twice.

what the hell is pledis' top model, kim mingyu, doing here?

it took you a few minutes to put two and two together - top model kim mingyu, is friends and in the same major as vernon.

"where’d you disappear off to, bro?" mingyu asked, sounding worried.

"sorry, man. went to pick up a friend," pointing to you, it was then mingyu noticed your presence.

"oh, hi!" he greeted, stepping aside and motioned you to enter the waiting room, "come on in, girlie~"

taking a step into the waiting room, you look around, hoping to find seungcheol but to no avail. as if he had read your mind, vernon asked where he was.

"he went to the toilet to freshen up," mingyu answered, "wonwoo hyung went with him. so, who's your pretty friend?"

reaching out a hand to the model, who gladly shook it, you introduced yourself.

"i'm lee ___, vernon's frie-"

"-bestie," said boy corrected, giving you a goofy smile when you side-eyed him, "the day you accepted my coke and made that comment on my outfit, you've signed an invisible contract to be my bestie for life!"

"ah, so you're the poor girl who has to deal with his ass when he isn't with us," mingyu commented, earning a laugh from you as vernon whined.

30 minutes go by and you find yourself enjoying the conversation you're exchanging with mingyu. you found out his father owns a famous art gallery while his mother works as a model (you've seen her a few magazines and it amazes you how she doesn't look like she's aged one bit). his parents want him to follow in a similar career choice as they do, which is why he took up art as a college major; and took modeling as a part time job.

you were extremely invested in conversing with mingyu, you don't realise two other people entering the room until-

"...pup?"

whipping your head around at the nickname, you felt your heart in your throat as the air got knocked out of your lungs.

there he stood, right in the flesh.

it felt like a fever dream.

"pup, is that you?" seungcheol asked, taking cautious steps towards you; his eyes full of hope.

when he's finally stood right in front of you, his body towering over yours, your breathing quickened and your heart thumping so loud you could hear it. seungcheol cups your face in his shaking hands, as if he couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing; as if they were deceiving him (and honestly, so did you).

"...cheollie..?"

your voice came out quieter than you expected, but he heard it.

a wide grin spread across his face as he heard that oh-so-familiar nickname, pulling you into a bone crushing hug.

"it really is you! oh my god, i can't believe you're here!"

you were stunned, frozen in place. thankfully, you weren't the only one as you noticed vernon, mingyu and a male who's wearing glasses, which you assumed to be wonwoo, watching you and seungcheol with both amusement and confusion evident on their face.

"you two… know each other?" vernon asks.

"ah-" pulling away from the hug, seungcheol steps aside as he wraps an arm around your waist, the action that has your heart thump harder against your ribcage, "boys, this is ___. she and i go way back."

vrrnonie: i can't believe you knew coups hyung

vrrnonie: and didn't tell me

vrrnonie: i feel so betrayed

vrrnonie: i thought we were besties

traitor 💔: BITCH

traitor 💔: I DIDN'T KNOW CHEOL WAS SCOUPS

traitor 💔: HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW

vrrnonie: …

vrrnonie: okay, fair enough

vrrnonie: but how come you've never mentioned him tho?

vrrnonie: he said you both went way back

vrrnonie: yet i never heard you talk about him

traitor 💔: you never mentioned about him before too asshole

traitor 💔: you only brought him up TODAY

traitor 💔: technically yesterday

traitor 💔: yea, the stage name sounded familiar

traitor 💔: but how was i supposed to know it was the same cheol

vrrnonie: you should've majored in law instead lmao

vrrnonie: but yea, fair point

vrrnonie: but still tho

vrrnonie: when he said way back

vrrnonie: how far back did he mean?

traitor 💔: can we not talk abt this

traitor 💔: i'll tell you when i feel like it

traitor 💔: but really, i just don't want to think abt it

vrrnonie: yes ma'am

vrrnonie: you must be tired after that tho

vrrnonie: get some rest, bbg <3

traitor 💔: vernon wtf

vrrnonie: hehe

vrrnonie: but fr tho, get some rest

vrrnonie: tonight definitely exhausted you

vrrnonie: see ya on monday

letting out a sigh you set your phone down, staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom - replaying the encounter repeatedly in your mind.

how long has it been since that day? the day your teenage love-struck heart got shattered into pieces?

you don't even remember.

you were about to close your eyes, a not so brilliant plan into trying to sleep the feelings away and deal with it in the morning, when your phone chimed.

unknown number: hey, pup

unknown number: i got your number from vernon

unknown number: it's me, cheol

you stared at the texts, unsure of what to reply.

you do, however, hit up the boy who gave out your number.

ma bestie 💅🏻: YOU GAVE HIM MY NUMBER???

vrrnonie: yea?

vrrnonie: oh shit

vrrnonie: was i not supposed to?

ma bestie 💅🏻: nono

ma bestie 💅🏻: it's just

ma bestie 💅🏻: i'd appreciate it if you'd let me know you gave him my number

vrrnonie: ah-

vrrninie: sorry bout that

ma bestie 💅🏻: it's okay

you received a few more texts from seungcheol, but you've decided to leave it up to morning or future you to deal with. part of you felt bad for ignoring his texts, mainly because you haven't seen him in years; and as he's currently making an effort to reconnect, your plan is to ghost him (at least until you're ready to face him).

another part of you felt as though he deserved the treatment. it may seem childish and petty, but you kept trying to justify it by telling yourself that he went on for years without talking to you; surely he’s able to handle a few hours of the same situation.

but as minutes go by of tossing and turning, the blinking notification light of your phone eventually gets the best of you.

cheollie: i know it’s been years since we last saw each other

cheollie: i was wondering if you wanted to meet up this weekend?

cheollie: for lunch, dinner, anything?

cheollie: to catch up and well, explain myself

sweet pup: hey

sweet pup: uhm, it’s currently 2am

sweet pup: so i don’t think lunch is an option

sweet pup: dinner sounds good tho!

cheollie: ah yea, sorry for texting quite late

cheollie: but i couldn’t help myself and you know how i am

cheollie: dinner it is!

cheollie: we’ll figure more of this out later in the morning, okay?

sweet pup: sure thing, cheollie

cheollie: get some rest, pup

cheollie: wouldn’t want you falling sick or be too tired for tomorrow <;/3

sweet pup: i could say the same for you

sweet pup: you must be tired from the match

cheollie: goodnight pup

sweet pup: goodnight cheol

you set your phone aside, rolling onto your side as you made another attempt to fall asleep. but with the anxious feeling pooling in your gut as your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, that was proven to be giving you a hard time.

that’s how you ended up on the floor of your living room, back leaning against the couch as a random netlfix series played while you drank your third bottle of soju.

sure, it was a bad idea and you knew you’d wake up with a killer hangover.

but, in the end, you managed to finally sleep - albeit it being on your couch.

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwoo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @minhui896 @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp

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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year ago

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The Black Kaiser's Nightmare

Duncan Vizla x Assassin!FemReader

A/N: Shout out to beelmons and G for their endless support and help with my fics <3 :') where would I be without y'all?

Summary: You run into your long-time nemesis in the last place you ever expected, but things take a turn for the worst when you find yourself stuck with him during a snowstorm.

WC: 7.2k words

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), enemies to lovers speedrun into the bed, mentions and depictions of violence, fighting, accidental assassination of a third party, some serious bickering, abundant cursing, rough sex (unprotected, don't do it at home!), choking, very light knifeplay, dirty talk, slight degradation mixed with some praise, rampant sexual tension, ooey gooey lovesick fools who are just SO SO STUBBORN, I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything!

You are responsible for your own media consumption!

----

Triple Oak, Montana.

It’d been a while since you’d last found yourself in such a quaint little town, especially in the middle of winter, but you supposed you’d been in way worse places. It was barely even on the map, which made it a convenient place to lay low.

You didn’t have to worry about interacting with many people, and you sure as hell didn’t think you’d encounter anyone you knew. At least for the time being, you felt like you could relax just a little bit while you made plans.

In a few more days, you’d continue driving north and cross the Canadian border into Saskatchewan, where you were meant to carry out your next assignment. Your target was a skeevy arms dealer that had to move his whole operation out of Serbia and was now shacked up somewhere in the vast prairies.

You’d been tracking his activity for some time, slowly narrowing down the list of possible locations. You’d also scored some insider information about a big upcoming transaction with a terrorist cell, and your goal was to get to him before the sale was finalized.

Successfully eliminating him would pay handsomely, and you were already planning on a months-long vacation in which you’d go fully off the radar. Preferably somewhere by the beach, where you didn’t feel the constant threat of frostbite.

You pulled into a small gas station — the only one to be found in a long stretch of the highway between the town and more secluded cabins — and occupied one of the three measly pumps. There was only one other old pickup truck next to you, but the owner was nowhere to be seen.

You blew hot air into your hands as you walked into the convenience store, eager for some coffee despite how shitty it was.

“Hey Lou,” you said to the now familiar attendant, the little bell above the door ringing as you pushed in. “How’s it goin’?”

“Eh, slow, the usual,” he shrugged. “At least it’s decently warm in ‘ere. They say there’s gonna be a snowstorm over the weekend, starting tonight.”

“Shit, really?” You groaned, not only because you loathed the freezing temperatures, but because it would set you back by a few more days.

“Yup, perfect time to cozy up with the missus back at home.”

You poured yourself a large cup of black coffee and snapped the lid on top. On the way back to the register, you grabbed a couple of magazines and a pack of Ding-Dongs to eat on the road.

“Well, lucky you,” you said, putting everything on the counter. “I gotta find ways to keep myself busy and warm in case I lose power.”

As you spoke, the door to the restroom opened behind you and a tall, rugged-looking man stepped out. His eyes instinctively flickered between the two of you, even if he couldn’t see your face. He lingered close to the back, trying not to bring attention to himself.

“You sure you’ll be good all by yourself out there?” Lou asked. “Enough supplies and all?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself,” you said, fishing cash out of your wallet. “Give me thirty on number two, also.”

“You got it, tough gal.”

You chuckled as he rang you up, glancing outside. The man behind you tensed, gripped with the dread that came with sudden recognition. Your voice was one he knew well, the very same one he’d heard all seventeen times he’d almost died. Well, eighteen if he counted that one brief altercation in Belfast.

And that laugh… How many times had it been directed at him? Taunting him, teasing him, driving him utterly mad.

It was perhaps the only thing that stopped him from actually getting rid of you that one night you slept so soundly at some shoddy little hotel in Madrid. He’d watched your chest's steady rise and fall from his spot in the darkness, and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

And now he’d most likely have to pay for the consequences of his mercy.

Lou looked over your shoulder at him, but you didn’t immediately notice since you were absently flipping through one of the magazines.

“Need anything else, Duncan?” He offered. “Pack of Winstons?”

Your skin prickled at these two very familiar details, but you didn’t move, still staring down at the magazine without actually reading. It was probably a mere coincidence. Really, there had to be dozens of Duncans in the world that just so happened to smoke Winstons.

But then, a very particular smell reached your nose — cheap cologne you didn’t know the name of, with strikingly bitter notes that had flooded your nostrils when his hands were tightly wrapped around your neck.

You glanced up at the fisheye mirror above the register… and there he fucking was, in all his deadly glory. The Black Kaiser himself.

You couldn’t help an amused huff, especially after hearing the faintest rustle of a knife being unsheathed under his coat.

“Are you sure you want to stab me with that, old man?” You said slowly over your shoulder.

“Less impersonal than a gun. I owe you that much, don’t I?” he said with that deep, gravelly voice of his that always made a stubborn tingle form at the base of your spine.

Your hand just barely inched towards the hidden holster of your gun. “Oh, but you know I get a little crazy when the knives come out.”

Lou looked between the two of you, confusion and a tinge of fear in his eyes.

“Uh, you two know each oth—”

Before he could finish his sentence, you whirled around and shot Duncan’s head. He ducked, but not before hurling a large knife at you in return. You dove out of the way, hearing it whizz right past your ear, and it sank into Lou’s forehead with a wet thud. His body slumped behind the counter, blood spraying over the stuff you’d intended to buy.

“Hey!” You yelled from your hiding spot. “I didn’t even get my change back!”

“You’re not gonna need it anymore,” he said gruffly, his voice not too far from you. “But before that… want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” you said, glancing up at the fisheye mirror once more.

Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t get a very good look at where he was, but you couldn’t stay put. You slowly began to inch to the end of the aisle, staying low. “Let me guess, you missed me so much these last three years that you decided to hunt me down.”

He scoffed. “Three years was not nearly long enough time away from you.”

You dove around the corner to the next aisle, but he wasn’t there. You started pulling yourself forward, but suddenly you were flipped onto your back. You were about to whip your gun around, but it was harshly knocked out of your grasp, sliding against the linoleum. You thrashed against the weight that pressed down on you, but he pinned your hands down beside your head.

“Who sent you?” He asked.

“No one sent me, you paranoid geezer!” You sneered, driving your knee up full force right into his crotch. “Not everything’s about you.”

He growled at the pain, swaying to the side, his grip on your hands relaxing. You pushed him off of you, scrambling to get to your gun. Right as you managed to get a hold of it, he was on you again, pulling you back by the legs. You tried twisting around all the way, firing another shot semi-blindly. It narrowly missed his shoulder, shattering one of the windows.

“Can’t kill me without paralyzing me, eh, little Nightmare?” He taunted.

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You swallowed a scream as he stepped on the hand you held your weapon with, his heavy boot cracking your wrist. Your fingers splayed involuntarily due to the pain, and he bent down to take the gun. He kept it pointed at you as he removed his boot from your wrist and grabbed your arm.

“You’re coming with me,” he stated, starting to pull you up.

“Like hell I am!” You spat, but you froze as you felt the barrel pressed against the back of your head.

“You were saying?”

He dragged you to your feet, leading you through the broken window, glass crunching under your boots. The wind seemed icier than it had been when you first arrived, which made you remember Lou’s warning about a snowstorm.

There was no way in hell you’d be stuck with him during it, so you’d have to find a way to weasel out of his grasp… and kill him in the process.

He led you towards his truck, but you pretended to trip at the last second, bending down and retrieving a knife you had hidden in your boot. You stabbed backward, aiming for his femoral artery, but he moved and the knife stabbed into his thigh muscle instead.

“Motherfucker,” he hissed through clenched teeth, but he didn’t let go of you, tightening his grip on your arm. He fired off a warning shot into the air, which made you flinch a little. “Try me again and I won’t hesitate to put the next bullet through your thick fucking skull. I only have so much patience.”

He shoved you into the passenger seat of the truck, managing to tie you up with the seatbelt. Your bound hands were still slick with his blood, and you smiled triumphantly at him as he slid into the driver’s seat, immediately peeling out of the gas station.

“This is what gets you hard, isn’t it?” you said, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re kind of a sick fuck, old man… but I didn’t expect any better from you.”

He said nothing, instead momentarily glaring at you. He grunted as he pulled the knife out of his leg, tossing it out of the window. You grumbled about him owing you a knife, but he continued to ignore you. He drove mostly in silence, winding through the icy roads as he gripped his wounded leg with one hand.

So far, it had been one of your tamest encounters. Really, it had all sort of felt like a game, but neither of you had won quite yet. After all, a game such as this could not be left unfinished.

Usually, the circumstances were vastly different. Your respective agencies had assigned you the same target a couple of times, and it always turned into a competition on who would finish the job first. As it turned out, the two of you were very competitive.

You’d left plenty of souvenirs on each other every single time you crossed paths – broken bones, an assortment of scars, and bruises as dark as the midnight sky. You wondered vaguely how much more damage you might make by the end of the day.

Why neither of you had succeeded in killing each other was… a bit of a mystery. Maybe he saw something in you that reminded him of himself, or perhaps he was growing soft with age. He would never admit it, but he’d had plenty of fun in this deadly dance with you so far, and it seemed a shame to let it come to its conclusion so soon.

He’d have to do it though, after some thorough interrogation.

Soon enough, he pulled up a long gravel road hidden among the tall pine trees. In the clearing ahead, you saw what you supposed was his cabin. It was modestly sized and a little dilapidated, but at least it seemed to be sturdy enough to withstand harsh conditions.

“Nice place,” you said sarcastically. “I don’t suppose you have many visitors?”

“Rarely,” he said without looking at you. “I like the quiet. No one’s going to bother us here.”

“You mean no one’s gonna come running when you scream?”

He grunted, readjusting his position in his seat. You were mostly tied up at the arms so your legs had some room to move. Rookie mistake on his part, which you would definitely take advantage of.

Before he could pull up in front of the actual cabin, you leaned back and kicked at the steering wheel. The truck swerved to the right, throwing you against the window. He tried to correct it on time, slamming on the brakes, but the snow made it careen right into a tree.

It wasn’t a tremendous crash, but the windshield still broke, glass raining down on both of you. You were both disoriented for a moment from the whiplash, but then you began to untangle yourself from the seatbelt. You kicked at him when he tried to reach for you, but he managed to pin your legs down.

“Can’t you stay put for one fucking second!?” He growled, fully bracketing you between his sturdy legs as he freed you from the seatbelt.

You panted heavily, trying to thrash beneath him, but he only pressed his legs tighter against your sides. A small, high-pitched whine escaped your lips as you felt the air being squeezed out of you, and you stopped moving.

“Satis…fied?” You managed between gasps.

“Not nearly,” he said, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he pulled back. “Come here.”

He kept a firm grip on it as he dragged you out of the truck and towards the cabin. He wobbled a little with each step, his leg still bleeding some.

“I warned you about the knives,” you said. “Even if you didn’t let me finish having fun.”

He chuckled sardonically. “No, you’re mistaken. The fun is only just beginning.”

He led you inside and locked the door behind him, making you sit down on a rickety chair. He bound your hands and feet with duct tape, wrapping some of it around your torso and the back of the chair for good measure. You decided not to struggle for the time being and instead ponder on your next move, covertly glancing at your surroundings for anything useful.

When Duncan was sure you wouldn’t be able to bolt, he went to grab something from an adjacent room, returning with his version of a first aid kit and a bottle of vodka. He looked at you from the corner of his eye as he undid his pants and lowered them to his knees.

“I didn’t realize it was that kind of fun,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Still, your gaze was drawn to his crotch first before trailing further down to the injury you’d caused. Rolling his eyes, he plopped down on the bed, which creaked a little under his weight.

He took a long swig of vodka and then poured some on the bleeding gash, hissing through his teeth. Your expression of slight amusement didn’t change as he glanced at you once more, taking out a needle and thread.

“I have to be careful about infections, who knows where that knife of yours has been?” he said.

You merely watched as he began stitching himself up without so much as a grimace. His breathing was slow and steady as he concentrated, and you found yourself entranced by the precise movements of his hands.

An obscene thought about those hands wriggled into your mind, but you immediately pushed it away. It was all the more reason for you to get the hell out of there, especially now that his pants were down.

As he was finishing his stitches, you leaned forward onto your tiptoes and then threw yourself back as hard as you could. The chair broke apart under you, the force of the blow and the angle in which you fell spraining one of your wrists. The adrenaline made you barely register the pain, and you quickly wriggled out of the tape wrapped around you.

You pulled a Swiss army knife out of your boot and hastily sawed off the tape binding your ankles. He swore as you stood, lifting your arms and slamming them down to free your hands. You stumbled towards the front door and yanked it open.

Outside, the wind howled ferociously and a thick flurry of snow limited your vision of your surroundings. You felt the unforgiving cold slicing through you as you hesitated, knowing deep down that your chances of survival were very slim.

Still, you were reckless enough to try and brave it. You started towards the steps when you were yanked back once more, your back pinned against the wall and Duncan’s hand around your throat.

“You just don’t fucking learn, do you?” He growled.

“You only caught me because I hesitated, old man.”

His grip tightened a little in warning. “Didn’t anybody teach you never to hesitate?”

“There is a very fine line between foolishness and courage, you know…” The corners of your mouth twitched, an amused gleam in your eye. “I wonder how often you cross from one side to the other.”

He clenched his teeth and an absolutely devious, cheshire cat grin spread across your face. The mere sight of it made his blood boil with both rage and arousal, and he felt it flowing southward. Your back instinctually arched towards him, as if you could somehow sense the sudden influx of violent desire, and became infected by it.

You stared at each other for a charged moment before he suddenly fell upon you, intent on devouring you. His lips clashed with yours in a fierce kiss and you buried your fingers in his hair, tugging at it as you retaliated.

You bit his lower lip hard, making him groan into your mouth. You used this opportunity to slide your tongue against his, and he moved the hand that had been around your neck toward your jaw. Without thinking, you pressed harder against him, your fingers about to slide under the hem of his sweater.

He clasped your wrist to stop you, assuming you were reaching for some hidden weapon. You whimpered slightly, painfully reminded that it was in fact sprained. He pulled back to look at you, both of you panting heavily and still clutching each other tightly.

“I fear that line was blurred a long time ago, and I suspect it’s the same case with you,” He murmured.

His words broke through your daze and you immediately pushed him away from you, cradling your injured hand against your chest. A maelstrom of emotions roiled inside of you, predominantly confusion and a worrisome throb between your legs.

“And what now?” You asked, glancing out of the window. “It’s clear neither of us are going anywhere any time soon.”

“Now we weather the storm,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“No, seriously.”

“I am being serious.”

You huffed in annoyance, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I… can’t believe I’m asking this right now but, maybe we can… put the killing each other thing on hold for a few days?”

“So you were coming for me.”

“No! I wasn’t!” You threw your hands up exasperatedly. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I have work further up north. This was just a pit stop.”

He assessed you for a moment, trying to find any clues that you were lying. You stood your ground, keeping your eyes on his face. He sniffed, leaning against the wall to get his weight off his injured leg.

“I’m fine with a temporary truce, but only if we both keep our weapons in plain sight at all times.”

“I am a weapon myself, big boy.”

“So am I. I suppose we’ll have to keep an eye on each other as well, then.”

“Fine,” you huffed, stomping to the couch and pulling it over to the kitchen. “I’ll stay on this side of the cabin, you can stay on the other side.”

“What!? This is my house!” He scoffed.

“Yeah, well, I’m being generous by letting you keep your bed. Not to mention, your life.”

He rolled his eyes, limping back over to his bed. “Whatever you say. Now, can I please fix my stitches in peace for one fucking second?”

———————

There was no sleep for the entirety of the first night.

The cabin creaked and groaned, straining against the disastrously strong wind. Your breaths fogged up in the air as you shivered under the thin blanket Duncan had given you. The cold seemed to seep into your very bones as if punishing you for your decisions. To distract yourself from the chill, you kept an eye on his prone form across the room, knowing well he wasn’t sleeping either.

When dawn broke, a thin grayish light filtered into the room. The storm raged on and all you wanted to do was doze off, but you were still on edge. You clenched your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering, irritated by a headache. Your mood didn’t get any better when Duncan rose from his bed, crossing towards the kitchen.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You inquired, not moving an inch.

He stopped in his tracks. “I’m hungry. Don’t you want to eat?”

Your stomach growled in answer and he lifted an eyebrow in slight amusement. You unwillingly threw the blanket off of you, getting up with an annoyed grunt.

“I’ll give you the food. Let’s see what you’ve got,” you said, rummaging through the cabinets.

“I could just show you…”

“No, stay on your side. Even better, why don’t you go sit back down on your bed?”

He followed orders, not really wanting to start quarreling with you so early in the morning. You finally found some oatmeal packets in one of the cupboards, and you took out a few and poured them into a pot along with some water. You left it to boil over the stove top, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face him.

“How’s your leg doing, anyway?” You asked.

“Fine. Why do you care?”

“I really don’t.”

He chuckled. “Good thing you’re a better assassin than you are a liar.”

You sighed deeply. “Well, it is your house, I should at least have some manners.”

He scoffed, still amused. “We are way past manners. Our only courtesy to each other would be a painless death.”

“Oh, really? Painless?” You arched an eyebrow. “Did you forget Lisbon? And that grenade launcher you stole?”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t technically aiming at you. You just happened to be in the way,” He argued. “And it’s not like you haven’t given me the same sort of treatment…”

You shrugged one shoulder. “It’s only fair.”

The two of you lapsed into silence as you turned your attention back to the pot. Once the oatmeal was ready, you spooned it into two bowls and walked to the invisible line that divided the cabin in two.

He got up and met you there, reaching slowly for his bowl so as not to seem threatening. Not that you were viewing him that way, anyway. At least not in the clearly exhausted state he was in.

“Careful, it’s hot,” you said. “Need me to blow on it first?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, resisting the lure of your impish grin. He figured it was perhaps the more masochistic part of him that made him so drawn to you. Always pushing him, testing him, keeping him on the edge. He would never admit it to himself — much less to you — but it made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t for a really long time.

He muttered a quick thank you before heading back to his side of the room, plopping down on the bed and immediately digging in. If he burned his mouth, he showed no indication of it, but you still huffed in amusement.

When he was done, he said nothing as he lied down, his back to you once again. A little confused and wary, you watched him as you slowly ate. Soon enough, his breath evened out into a steady rhythm, and you assumed he’d fallen asleep.

You glanced over at the dining table, where the two of you had laid out all your weapons, and considered them for a long moment.

It seemed too easy to have such a window of opportunity. Normally, you’d have jumped at any such chance, but once more, you hesitated. Not out of any sort of newfound benevolence, but something deeper than that. Something that had been gnawing at you since the previous night.

In the end, you opted not to do anything. Surely, it was bound to be a mistake to not have killed him at that moment. But that would be a problem for another day, perhaps when the storm was over.

You sat down on the floor by the foot of the couch, back resting against the frame. Sleep deprivation was starting to hit you as well, and you knew that if you were to lay down you would certainly fall asleep. Instead, your eyes focused on the suspiciously peaceful sight of Duncan sleeping.

The longer you stared, the blurrier the lines seemed to get. Literally. His broad form was smudged into a single sphere, and without much thought about it, everything suddenly went black.

Until… Shit.

How long were you asleep?

It had been long since you’d last awakened to a man in front of you, let alone holding a knife to your face. The blade shone in your half-open eyes, reflecting the setting sun outside the window. You must have been unconscious for over two hours. Stupid, so very stupid.

You blinked the haze of sleep out of your eyes and followed the glint to his fingers, his forearm, up his broad chest and shoulders, until it finally landed on his face.

“So, the game ends at last, huh?” you muttered, your gaze not wavering from his.

“Could’ve ended long ago, but it didn’t,” he said, once again looking every bit the coldhearted killer he was. You could still see, however, the presence of doubt in his dark eyes. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

“I knew you weren’t actually sleeping…”

“Even so,” he pressed, straightening to his full, imposing height. “You didn’t even try. Why?”

You blinked, not really having an answer, not one that would satisfy him at least. What's more, you had a set of questions of your own, ones that would likely also have no answer.

The words slipped before you could even think about them. “Why did you kiss me?”

Silence hung between you like a heavy drape. You were cornered in more than one sense. Windows for precaution and escape had long since closed, maybe even since the moment you ran into him in that little gas station. And through hardships, you learned that if there’s no way back, the only way is forward.

The wound in his thigh didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore, so there was no way you could outrun him. You looked down to avoid his scrutiny and he used the back of his knife to force your chin back up.

He didn’t speak, but his eyes bore into yours, almost as if seeing through them into parts of you that were foreign even to yourself. The flat part of the blade trailed up to your cheek in what could be interpreted as a caress.

Your hand unconsciously intended to return the favor, running up his knee to his thigh, extra cautious around his wound. You noticed a change of pattern in his breathing, and so you looked down only to find one of the answers you sought — the print of his hardened cock cruelly imprisoned within his pants.

“Oh,” you breathed, surprised. Then again, when the reality of what you were looking at fully sank in. “Oh.”

Your hand moved on its own accord again, slowly slipping further up his thigh. Again, he tightly grabbed your wrist before your fingers reached their target, and you hissed in pain. He immediately let go, withdrawing the knife as well.

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

“A sprained wrist isn’t gonna kill me,” you said, keeping your hand on his leg to drive your point across. “Now that, on the other hand, has to be taken care of.”

“Taken care of, huh?” He rasped, his voice hoarse with want and self-directed anger because of it.

He raked a hand through your hair, gathering it in his first and pulling your head towards his crotch. He pressed your cheek against his bulge, his hips bucking ever so slightly.

“And how do you suppose that’s gonna happen?” He added.

“I have a few ideas if you’re open to them,” you panted, ignited in a way that almost fully consumed you.

His eyes searched your face for a moment, drinking you in as he searched for any indications of doubt, and then he whispered, “Are you sure?”

This time you didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

He saw the feverish gleam of hunger in your eyes as he pulled away and unbuckled his belt, pushing down his pants. The outline of his cock was even more prominent through his briefs and you couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath at the sheer size of him. He was still holding onto your hair, stepping closer and effectively cornering you against the couch.

You boldly started to reach for the hem of his briefs, but he said, “No. I want you to use your teeth.”

“Getting a little bold there, old man,” you said with a smirk, keeping your eyes on him as you dipped your head to plant a soft kiss on his thigh, right by his stitches.

He winced slightly at the contact, but you could see his cock throb against the fabric covering it. Your smirk only widened, “But I gotta admit I’m pretty impressed so far. Didn’t even have to slip a blue pill in your oatmeal.”

He gripped your jaw, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “I think you need more proof, actually. Allow me.”

With his free hand, he roughly tugged down his briefs and his cock finally sprang free — so thick and long and just fucking perfect — hitting his lower abdomen. The head of it glistened with precum, which he spread with his thumb. You shifted in your seat, biting your lip as saliva flooded your mouth.

“Open,” he ordered.

You immediately complied, wondering when the fuck you’d gotten so obedient. He gripped the base of it and fed it into your mouth slowly. You wrapped your lips around it, feeling it slide smoothly against your tongue.

A small groan escaped him, his head tipped back at the first rush of pleasure. You hummed a little in response and he felt the vibration of the sound against his shaft. His hips began to move again, shuttling his length deeper into your mouth, until you could feel the head of it reach your throat.

He let you steady yourself by placing your hands on his legs, his hand returning to the back of your head as it bobbed up and down. Then suddenly, when you’d reached the very base, he kept your head down. Your nose was against his pelvis, your deep, even breaths fanning against the fine hair that curled there.

Your nails dug into the flesh of his legs as you staved off your gag reflex as best as you could. Still, you couldn’t help but squirm a little, already pretty slick between your thighs.

He cursed under his breath as he let you come up for air, an obscene string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.

"If I knew you were such a cock drunk slut, I would have dropped my pants much earlier just to shut you up,” he said with a smug grin, looking down at you.

“More bold words from someone who’s only gonna last this round. I’m gonna have to take care of myself after you’re done,” you taunted lightly, making him pull at your hair.

You kept eye contact with him as you stuck your tongue out and traced it over a large vein on the underside of his shaft. You left a trail of wet, sloppy kisses as you made your way back to the tip, and he lightly slapped it against your tongue a couple of times before pushing your head back down on it. His balls tightened momentarily as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, and you knew he was enjoying himself much more than he let on.

"Well, if it's gonna be only one, might as well make good use of it, don't you think?" He said, pulling you off of him and making you stand up.

His lips were on yours in the next moment, just as desperate and hungry as the first kiss. He kicked his pants off the rest of the way and yanked your sweater off along with your thermal undershirt. He reached for your pants, but you slapped his hand away, extricating yourself from his lips to undo them yourself.

As soon as they were off, he turned you around and bent you over the back of the couch. There was a wet spot in your underwear that made him smirk, but he also couldn’t deny the way his cock throbbed at the sight.

“This is in the way…” he grunted, tugging at your bra strap.

Before you even registered what was happening, he brought the knife back out and sawed the bra off of you. You let out a gasp that was both surprised and indignant as he proceeded to rip your panties off with his bare hands, tossing the scraps of fabric aside.

“Hey! Those are the only ones I have here!” You huffed, glaring at him over your shoulder. “Unless you have a secret stash of women’s underwear, you seriously owe me.”

He nudged your knees apart with his leg. “I don’t think you’re going to need them while you’re here. You were already ruining them yourself, anyway.”

Before you could retort, you felt him push inside of you slowly, grabbing your hips as he let out a low moan.

“Fuck…” you sighed without thinking, leaning your elbows against the back of the couch.

“Yeah? Does that feel good?” He cooed condescendingly.

“In your drea–”

His hips snapped into yours harshly, interrupting you. You felt the heat of him against your back as he leaned over you, his breath fanning across the side of your face.

“If I were you, I’d be careful about lying again. I might just stop and leave you all drenched like this, with your hands tied behind your back so you couldn’t touch yourself.”

He felt you clench around him at that and his smirk turned victorious. He kissed and sucked at your shoulder and neck, making sure to leave plenty of marks. His thrusts were hard and deep at first, hips barely pulling back as his weight pinned you down.

You let out a sound that was a strange mix between a whimper and a gasp as he bit into the tender flesh of your shoulder, hard enough to leave teeth marks behind. The jolt of pain mixed with pleasure – not to mention the slight shame that came with the feeling of your arousal dripping down your inner thighs – only fueled the fire that was steadily growing within you.

Then, a little mindlessly, you pleaded, “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He straightened immediately, readjusting himself to start pounding into you at a nearly punishing pace. You bit your bottom lip to try and keep quiet, but wanton sounds of pleasure escaped your throat despite your efforts. He was hitting a spot that made your head spin, tugging you backward onto his cock to meet his thrusts.

The lewd sound of flesh slapping together, along with your collective pants and groans, filled the room. He reached forward to grab your throat again, keeping you semi-upright as he continued to take you. In truth, he was focusing hard to stave off his release. He had plenty of stamina for his age, but the way your cunt took him so perfectly, as if molded just for him, was enough to have his balls tightening again.

But he would never hear the end of it.

Your legs began to shake a little as the coil in your belly tightened, threatening to snap. “I-I think I’m gonna cum, fuck…”

“Not yet,” he said firmly, immediately stopping his motions.

You cursed him under your breath, beyond frustrated. You pushed your hips back, intent on fucking yourself on him, but his firm grip stopped you. He landed a firm smack on your ass, making you involuntarily clench around him. He hissed, feeling the strong urge to give in and continue fucking you until you came all over his cock, but he kept his composure. He wanted to keep indulging you for as long as he could, still not fully believing he wasn’t just having a dirty dream.

“Do that again and I’ll rip your fucking head off,” you snarled as he pulled out, grabbing your arm and leading you toward the bed.

“I told you I was going to make it count.”

He tossed you onto your back on the bed, crawling on top of you and pushing your knees up to your shoulders. He positioned himself between your thighs and sank back into your cunt with no further preambles, his strong body covering yours once more.

His hands cradled your head as he began to move again, reaching impossibly deeper than before. You clawed at his biceps as he ground his pelvis against you, making your brain practically short-circuit.

“There we go… See? I knew you could take more,” he said, kissing the corner of your lips. “Are you scared I'll pull out again? You keep sucking me back in.”

Too dazed to form words, your lips chased his so he would kiss you properly. Your tongue trailed over his upper lip enticingly, and he opened his mouth so his tongue could meet yours. This kiss was deeper, less frantic, finally giving yourselves a chance to taste each other properly.

Soon you were clenching around him again, too distracted by your mounting pleasure to continue kissing him properly.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Duncan. Please, please, please, just like that,” you begged desperately, moaning as he moved to kiss your jaw.

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up, too?” He rasped against your skin. “Claim this needy cunt all for myself?”

You nodded eagerly, face contorting with ecstasy as you held onto him for dear life. Your muscles seized up as your climax washed over you, overpowering your senses. His hips stuttered as you cried out, your hot flesh molding into his like the deepest embrace.

He kissed you again as he felt his own release rippling over him, groaning into your mouth as he shuddered, unable to hold himself back any longer. He thrusted hard a few more times before remaining fully inside of you, and you felt heat flooding your cunt.

A whimper of slight overstimulation escaped you, but he soothed you with a whispered praise in your ear. You couldn’t help but smile beatifically, almost purring in content as he kept his cum inside of you.

As you both rode out your highs, your kisses turned lazy, almost tender, and even the way he held you felt different. Somehow, in some deep recess of your mind, it seemed right… and that scared you a little.

Still, you tried not to let it get to you then. Not as he leaned his sweaty forehead against yours, still panting, and said, “I think I tore my stitches.”

You chuckled. “You should probably take care of that, then.”

“In a minute…”

He disentangled himself from you, pulling out and sliding his body down between your legs. You tried to draw your thighs together, but he stopped you, planting a kiss on your mound.

He spread your lips with two fingers so he could see his cum trickling out of you, but then he pushed it back in with those same fingers, making your hips jerk slightly.

“T-this was a one time thing, you know,” you breathed, trying to sound firm.

He barely glanced up at you, seemingly unbothered. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

But only an hour or so later, you found yourself riding him on the couch. Then, he took you against the wall, over the kitchen counter, off the edge of the bed, and subsequently on the floor. He seemed intent on making sure you never questioned his endurance ever again.

Even throughout the night, you slept sporadically, pawing at each other whenever you stirred. Not many words were exchanged during this time, but that didn’t mean your mouths weren’t put to good use. As usual, you both wound up with bruises, bite marks, and scratches all over each other, but the intention behind them couldn’t be any more different.

The storm died sometime during the night, but instead of fleeing right away, you let him hold you until dawn broke. There were too many new questions floating about in your head, but you weren’t really sure you wanted the answer to any of them for the time being. Perhaps it was simply best to let what happened remain in the past and simply move on.

As quietly as you could, you got up from the bed, cleaned yourself up, and dressed. You sheathed your weapons, avoiding looking at him as you prepared to leave. When your hand was on the doorknob, his voice stopped you.

“You didn’t kill me again,” he said. “Should I take that as an indication that you like me?”

You looked over at him, frowning. “Absolutely not. I’m serious, this was the last time it’ll ever happen.”

“I’m not sure I can trust your word.”

You huffed, irritated. “Well, you’ll have to. I intend to keep it.”

You yanked the door open, about to stomp outside, but you heard the creak of the bed as he sat up.

“You know, I’m going to be in Portofino in a few months. I heard it’s beautiful there in the summer, and I figured I could use a vacation.”

“Are you trying to make yourself an easy target?”

“...Maybe.”

“And if I decide not to hunt you down?”

He raised an eyebrow. “If?”

You grimaced. “All I’m saying is don’t get your hopes up. I’m a very busy gal, I don’t have time to play cat and mouse with you.”

“And who’s who in that analogy, hm?”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “Goodbye, Duncan. Truce is over, do you hear me?”

“I’ll see you in Portofino. Make sure you bring sunscreen.”

The door slammed shut behind you.

---——-

Part 2 out now!

#duncan vizla fanfiction #duncan vizla x fem!reader #duncan vizla x reader #the black kaiser x reader #the black kaiser fanfiction #polar fanfiction #duncan vizla smut #the black kaiser smut

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sarucane · 1 year ago

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Why did Ed shoot Izzy then?

Figured I'd go ahead and rant about this because once I started thinking about it, it took a bit to unpack, and someone might be interested? Eh, anyway

So the reason this is actually an odd moment is this: it comes across as careless, but Ed's real violence is never careless. Ed's violence is actually really precisely targeted. He has a reputation for violence, total strangers call him a "fucking madman," and he does do some stuff offscreen ("I have seen you maim a few people") but in terms of what we actually see on our screens Ed becomes violent himself very, very rarely.

But here, he shoots Izzy. A very violent act, done casually and to someone he knows personally.

Why? Izzy thinks it's because of Stede, says himself in this scene that the source of the poison on the ship is Ed's feelings for Stede, tells Stede Ed shot him "because I dared to mention your fucking name."

But that just doesn't track. Ed is clearly brooding over Stede at several other points, and he doesn't get remotely violent. He doesn't join in the fighting at the wedding when he sees the figurine that looks like Stede or throw it against the wall later, or even become violent in any of the scenes that figurine appears in. If anything, the evidence rather suggests that Izzy has mixed up "poison" and "cure": Ed gets notably more chill when he's looked at that figurine recently.

So why does Ed shoot Izzy here? And when Izzy came to him a few minutes before with "I have love for you, I'm worried about you," why did Ed blow him off, then get scary at something that did invoke Stede?

Well, because it's Izzy who's saying this. It's not Stede himself, it's the combo of Ed having Izzy and Stede in his head at the same time that's provoking violence.

Izzy set the terms for this relationship. Ed was vulnerable and open, and Izzy said that was a fate worse than death. Ed thought he was in a safe space, and Izzy threw shame and threats at him.

Ed conformed to Izzy's expectations, directly and completely. Izzy was clearly happy that Ed was cutting off his toe and making him eat it. Izzy set the rules, and Ed followed them. That's right down to the scene before this, when Izzy says that the crew are refusing to throw away the treasure and Ed says "and that's another toe." There are rules, they're being followed.

And then Izzy goes and tries to change the rules. Tries to encourage Ed to be vulnerable. Invokes the original source of the pain that made Ed vulnerable in the first place.

It's actually kinda admirable that Izzy does this. What he's doing is beginning to acknowledge how wrong he was before. But it's too little (he still thinks of Stede as a problem, not a solution) and far too late.

Ed's not going to take anything that hits him where he hurts from Izzy. He followed the rules--hell, he's still following the rules when he shoots Izzy, hits him on the same leg that was losing toes. He doesn't owe Izzy one iota of vulnerability. And more importantly, he can't become vulnerable with Izzy. The relationship is absolutely and completely entrenched. This story ends with one of them killing the other. And just like Izzy's the one who started them on the path of that story, now Ed's the one who's going to push it forward.

#ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd #ofmd s2 #our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #ed teach #izzy hands #I can't believe I went on for that long #well i found something else to rant about my spiral parallels are almost out so cool #ed totally didn't think for a second izzy was dead come on if he wanted Izzy dead he would have made Archie first mate #blackbeard

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totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus · 3 months ago

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Fic: One Foot Out the Door (Won't You Come Back Inside?) 1/2

Eh, I got a little stalled on Come Away, O Human Child and felt like writing some different flavored angst :) (Happy Ending guaranteed though!) Besides, all the cheating 'fics in the Buck/Tommy tag on AO3 made me sad this week (no hate, I just don't like infidelity stories) so I thought I'd give Tommy some angst that didn't involve him getting cheated on.

Pairing: Buck/Tommy (mentioned Buddie, but it's one-sided in this)

Being perfectly honest, Tommy had always kind of known that Eddie might eventually come between him and Evan.

The concept hadn't even really bothered him at first. Kissing Evan had been an impulse decision…he was unfairly hot and kind of adorable when he was flustered, and he said he wanted Tommy's attention. What was he supposed to do? Not take the opportunity to see if any of the (admittedly, kind of mixed) signals the kid had been throwing off would lead anywhere?

Even after their (disastrous) first date, and the (awkward) encounters at Howie and Evan's sister's wedding, he really and truly hadn't thought things with him would go anywhere serious. He liked Evan, sure. He walked that line between pretty boy and muscle man that got Tommy's motor running, they had great conversations, and (and Tommy knew this was selfish, but he'd never claimed to be completely altruistic) being with Evan brought him plenty of chances to reconnect with the 118 in ways that his text-every-once-in-while friendship with Hen and Howie just hadn't provided. Sue him—he liked Harbor just fine, but that was a job not a family and he was kind of bummed that the 118 had only become what it was now after he left.

He'd honestly thought his relationship with Evan was just going to be a fling. He'd have a nice time with a gorgeous man and maybe get the chance to resolidify his ties to the 118, and in exchange he'd give Evan the kind, gentle introduction to life as a queer man that Tommy had never really gotten. They'd have a good time for a few weeks or months and then probably part ways…hopefully amicably so Tommy could keep his friendship with Eddie and his place with the 118. In the best case scenario, he and Evan could still be friends too.

That had been the plan. That had been the logical conclusion just based on his observations of Evan and his own experience and relationships. He saw where this was going, and he was okay with that. Really, he was. Tommy had learned a long time ago that Happily Ever After was only easy to find in the movies, and even when it did show up in the real world, it wasn't people like Tommy that found it. Didn't even have anything to do with being gay. Life had taught Tommy Kinard to temper his expectations long before he'd ever realized that part of himself. So. He'd scouted the terrain, decided it was worth his time, and settled in for the perfectly predictable ride.

And then Evan had fucked it all up by making it completely, utterly impossible not to fall completely, utterly in love with him.

Evan…Evan was fucking sunshine.

Tommy had known he enjoyed talking to him…he'd been unprepared for how much he'd come to love the way Evan's brain worked. The random facts and research binges, the constant shifts in focus. Evan was so curious about anything and everything, and Tommy had grown used to the cadence of his boyfriend's voice washing over him like the waves of the ocean whenever they were together, the way Evan filled the silence of his house whenever he was there, but always let Tommy talk too, always listening attentively and engaging, even in topics that didn't really interest him.

He'd expected Evan to be a good lay. He just had that vibe about him and…look, people gossip okay? Evan's…exploits right after he joined the 118 weren't exactly discreet. He had not been expecting to discover a lover. Evan was generous in bed, adventurous and creative in ways that left Tommy a little breathless. He'd expected to have to take the lead, but apart from some understandable hesitance at the start, Evan had never been shy about…well, anything they did. He could be coy and sweet, happy to be manhandled and bossed around, to look up at Tommy through his lashes and call him Daddy in a voice that went straight to Tommy's core. But he was equally thrilled to turn the tables, be loud and demanding, pin Tommy down to the nearest surface and go to town…whatever suited their mood. God, Tommy had never had someone match him like this. Never had someone who felt like they were made to be in his arms. Never found someone who could slot so seamlessly into his life.

They had their hiccups, of course. They were both stubborn men who weren’t always great at communication. They had to learn each other's tells and signals. Evan got into his head about things, could be clingy and needful in ways that were a little foreign to Tommy at first. Tommy tended to bottle things up until they festered, could become snappish and aloof in ways that had clashed badly with Evan's abandonment issues a few times. They worked through it, though. They learned together, improved together. Tommy didn't think he was exaggerating when he said this was the healthiest relationship he'd ever had. He couldn't help the warm glow of pride the day Hen had confided in him that she thought it was Evan's healthiest relationship as well.

He loved Evan. He hadn't expected to, but looking at where they were now, it seemed inevitable.

But. He had always kind of expected Eddie to eventually come between them.

Tommy wasn't an idiot. He wasn't unobservant. It took him approximately zero point five seconds past meeting them to clock the weirdly intense energy between Evan and Eddie. Tommy was no stranger to the kind of bonds their line of work tended to inspire. He was ex-military and a first responder…he knew you didn't rush into life-threatening situations with someone and have a normal friendship with them. Whatever was between Evan and Eddie wasn't that.

They were entrenched in each other's lives. Damn near inseparable. Tommy had seen plenty of guys become unofficial family, plenty of guys who stepped in as uncles and godfathers for their squadmates’ kids. But Evan was effectively Eddie's co-parent. Christopher's other father. Eddie clearly relied on Evan for emotional needs that a partner (a life partner, not just a work partner) should fulfill, and Evan did the same.

He'd be lying if he said it wasn't a little off-putting for someone who wanted to date one of them. But he liked Eddie a lot, and Evan was so damn gorgeous…and he really wasn't expecting it to get serious. Their connection read to him as intimate, but not sexual–even if he privately thought that was mostly because Evan could be charmingly oblivious and Eddie was deep in the kind of denial that only intense therapy and self-reflection could break through–and so he decided to risk it.

In a way, he thought that he had it easier as Evan's partner than anyone who tried to date Eddie would ever have it. He understood Eddie and Christopher’s place in Evan's life, cared about them both, and was perfectly content being a “trusted adult” rather than any kind of parental figure in Christopher's life. And it wasn't like Evan was Chris's primary parent. Evan just had more room for a partner in his life and his heart than Eddie did.

To be completely fair to Evan, Tommy didn't think he was a replacement or a substitution. He knew Evan loved him. Just…he had never been able to shake the feeling that he wouldn't have been his boyfriend's first choice. And if Eddie ever figured himself out, ever got to a place where he was comfortable offering Evan a choice, Evan would take it.

It wasn't something he dwelled on. Not something he spent all his time waiting for. But it hovered on the peripheral of his growing feelings for Evan, snuck in haunt him at odd times, a darkness that never overshadowed their love, but never dissipated either. He thought he had it handled. He really did.

“So,” Karen drawled, flopping down in the lounge chair beside him with a glass of wine and a slice of the (very excellent) cherry pie Buck had made for the gathering. Tommy was considering going to get another slice himself…he loved Evan's dedication to his fitness routines, certainly had no complaints about the results, but he did enjoy it when his boyfriend took breaks from his more restrictive nutrition regimes.

“So?” he repeated with a raised eyebrow, well used to the roadmap Mrs. Wilson (both of them) tended to follow with serious conversations. And judging by the tilt of Karen's mouth, this was going to be a serious conversation.

“How are things? Haven't seen you in a while,” Karen replied, taking a sip of her wine.

It was true. Tommy hadn't been able to attend the last few get-togethers at Bobby and Athena's new place for work-related reasons (wildfire season was the worst no matter how you sliced it, but it was especially shitty for air support), and his and Evan's schedules had been lining up infrequently enough the last few weeks that when they did have time off together, they mostly spent it in bed rather than socializing.

“Going great,” he said, settling more comfortably in his chair to watch Evan swing Jee-Yun up onto his shoulders and start galloping around the yard while she shrieked in delight. He didn't even try to hide the dopey smile he knew was spreading across his face. It wasn't like their friends weren't aware of how smitten he was with his boyfriend.

“Did you and Buck have a good time up in San Diego? I had to work late the night Buck came over for dinner. Missed the pictures.”

The smile widened, a warm flush flooding his chest at the thought of the trip he and Evan had taken just last month. An anniversary trip. Their one year anniversary (okay, more like fifteen month, because wrangling PTO from two separate stations was a bitch), a milestone Tommy had only made it to a handful of times, and never since coming out. It wasn't anything extravagant or fancy. They hadn't even flown, preferring to drive up the coast and stay for the weekend in a charming bed and breakfast Evan had found online. They'd gone sightseeing, eaten entirely too much “viral” food Evan found on TikTok (a surprising amount of which had actually been worth the hype), and filled their nights with the kind of unhurried, earth-shatteringly intimate lovemaking Tommy thought existed only in romance novels.

“We had an amazing time,” he gushed. As if drawn by a magnet, his eyes found Evan again, watching his boyfriend fondly as he tossed his niece in the air a few times before spinning her around and dramatically pretending to ‘drop’ her, only to catch her and resume tossing her high.

Karen nodded to herself, smiling gently. “Gotta say, you really messed up a few betting pools. Romantic getaway, one year anniversary…we were pretty sure you’d come back with some kind of announcement,” she said, wagging her eyebrows significantly.

He froze a bare second, but his wits rarely let him down. He smirked at her, and rubbed his belly. “Sorry, nobody's pregnant. I've just packed on a few pounds. Evan's a damn good cook, you know? Although I did notice Athena's not drinking tonight…”

Karen leveled him with a look. “I dare you to go say that in earshot of her,” she said dryly.

“Oh God, do I really look that stupid to you?”

“Kinard.”

“What?” He held his pretended ignorance for a few more seconds before cracking.

“Not to be all stereotypical on main, but showing up to the second date with an engagement ring and a UHaul is more your tribe's deal, Mrs. Wilson. It's only been a year.”

“Hey!” She balanced her plate of pie on her lap and reached over to smack him lightly on the bicep. “And no, it's not like we expected you two to come back engaged–”

“What'd Howie have the odds at?”

Karen waved a dismissive hand. “Seventy-five to one, but that's beside the point. You two have been solid. I've never seen Buck this happy, and you seem pretty content yourself. But you're not even talking about taking next steps? Moving in together? Getting a dog? Something?”

For the second time that evening, Tommy froze. He knew he was staring at Karen like a deer in headlights, knew he was giving away far too much in his expression. His brain ticked over a few times, like an old engine trying to cough to life on a cold day. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He and Karen were friends, he liked her a lot…but they weren't this kind of friends. They weren't confidants like this. Unless…

“Did Evan say something?” he sputtered finally.

Karen took a contemplative sip of her wine, watching him with sharp, assessing eyes. Fuck, he'd prefer getting grilled like this by Hen. She was scarier, and fiercely protective of Evan, but also a little less surgically insightful in her observations.

“Hen brought it up last week,” she admitted after a moment, with a slight wince. “She was teasing him, since she knows his lease is up in a couple months. Buck…spiraled a little.”

And damn it. Damn it. He'd known about the lease, of course. Evan had mentioned it in passing a couple of times. But not in a way that had any weight of expectation…not in a way that made Tommy think he was hinting at anything. Fuck.

Karen narrowed her eyes at him, brow furrowing a little. “I mean--it’s not a big deal. Stereotypes aside, a year really isn't that long in the grand scheme of things. Buck's not expecting you to ask to move in together. I think it was more that you two haven't talked about the future at all. Which, again, everyone has their own timeline, but just in case you were waiting on him to bring it up, it's gonna have to be you. Buck's too gun-shy.”

Tommy couldn't help grimacing at the words. Yeah. That tracked. He knew all about Evan's previous girlfriends, and the couple times he'd ended up cohabitating. Of course Evan would be wary of even broaching the subject. Goddamn it.

“Hey,” Karen said suddenly, her voice going a bit quieter. “Tommy, I was just curious. Maybe a little worried. You two have seemed really happy….”

Tommy shook his head, sighing. “We are. Yeah, no, we are. I should've figured he was…I just should've noticed.”

Karen seemed to be realizing she had stumbled onto a larger issue than she initially thought. The wineglass joined the pie plate on the grass and she scooted her chair a little closer to his, turning her whole body towards him. “Okay, I feel like I'm missing some context here. What's going on?”

Such an easy question. One he even knew the answer to.

He wanted to take the next step with Evan, was the thing. Fuck, if he was honest with himself, he'd been wanting to take the next steps for a while now. Moving in together. Joining finances. Getting a goddamn dog.

Little pieces of Evan had been finding their way into his place for months, now. His toothbrush and preferred shower products in the bathroom. His spare clothes in the bottom drawer of Tommy’s dresser. His weird-ass organic oat milk and protein powder in the kitchen. Small little pieces and Tommy wanted more. Wanted it all. They'd been together for almost a year and a half. Karen was right, if Tommy saw a future with Evan it was well past time to start the discussion. The way they'd been going, their anniversary trip would have been the perfect time to bring it up, to ask Evan to just give up the loft and come stay, come be with Tommy all the time.

He could see a future with Evan. He could see everything with Evan. Rings. Vacations. Pets. Fuck, Evan had him thinking about kids and he'd never thought that was something he wanted. He could see it, though. He could see them growing old and gray together. So what was the hold up?

A loud burst of laughter startled him, and he looked over to find Eddie had stolen Jee from Evan and was spinning around and around while she shrieked for him to go faster. Evan was perched on the arm of Christopher’s lounge chair, watching the scene with a soft smile as he draped his arm around the boy's shoulders.

Yeah. That was the hold up.

Something must have shown on his face, because Karen followed his line of sight. He averted his eyes when she looked back at him.

“Tommy,” she started, but he just shook his head.

It wasn't like he hadn't known going in that Evan's place in Eddie's and Christopher's lives (and theirs in his) was…a lot. Probably more than a lot of people would be willing to put up with. He cared about the Diaz boys too, though, and again…he hadn't been expecting to love Evan so damn much. And really? It had been fine. A little awkward at first, but he liked to think that they'd all learned to walk a line that let all of them get what they needed out of the relationships. It had been fine.

Then Eddie started getting more serious about therapy. Not that he hadn't been before. After the…situation…that had resulted in Chris going to spend the summer with Eddie's parents, he'd started seeing one of the department counselors again. But eventually he'd moved on to more intensive therapy–sought out more specialized treatment. Tommy had actually been the one to put him in touch with a veterans’ group some of his friends from the service attended, and through them, Eddie had found a therapist he really clicked with. Someone who worked with combat veterans exclusively, saw PTSD every day.

It had been great. Even knowing him for a relatively short time, Tommy could see how much stronger he was. How much more settled and sure of himself.

How much he was realizing about himself.

Tommy wasn't going to say anything. He wasn't going to bring it up until Eddie did, knew intimately how difficult it was for you to admit something like that to yourself and live honestly…especially for guys like them, however unfair that was. He'd supported his friend, he and Evan both had, but privately he thought it was kind of a tossup if Eddie would ever let himself finish that journey.

It was fine. It was all fine.

Eddie was getting braver, though. Tommy could see it. Could see him settling further and further into his own skin, getting closer and closer to being able to be who he was meant to be. It was wonderful, and awful at the same time. Wonderful because Eddie was his friend who he cared about, and no one deserved to have to live a lie. That kind of denial festered inside you. It poisoned you from the inside out. Eddie was a good man. A good friend. Tommy was glad it looked like he'd be able to lance that wound and drain the poison.

It was awful because Tommy wasn't an idiot. And he could see the way Eddie looked at Evan.

He'd always kind of thought Eddie might come between them eventually.

“Look, I love Evan. I really do. I want a life with him. But–” he gestured towards the charming tableau: Evan with his arm around what was for all intents and purposes his and Eddie's kid, while Eddie played with Evan's niece. He shrugged at Karen, twisting in his seat a little so he wasn't facing his boyfriend and the man who was also in love with his boyfriend, and who had a connection to his boyfriend that Tommy deep down didn't think he could compete with. “Writing on the wall's a little obvious, isn't it? Sue me, I'm kind of hoping to at least keep my dignity when he…” He broke off, gritting his teeth so hard he felt the muscle in his jaw jump. “When he moves on,” he finished, as steadily as he could. Fuck. He'd never said it out loud before. It fucking hurt.

“What?”

He hadn't heard Evan approaching them. Neither had Karen, judging by the way her eyes widened. Slowly, agonizingly, Tommy turned in his seat to find his boyfriend staring at him with the most hurt, betrayed expression he'd ever seen on Evan's face.

He'd always kind of thought Eddie might eventually come between them.

But not like this.

#911 abc #evan buckley #mywriting #evan buck buckley #buck x tommy #bucktommy

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impishjesters · 11 months ago

Text

Jax reacting to hearing his s/o saying that they would like to marry him in the future

CW(s): rude Zooble, age gap, self-deprecation, unfinished relationship talk, eavesdropping, talk of marriage, Jax note: The "age gap" has no set age gap, just heavily implies and mentions that the reader is older and has experienced more as an adult then Jax might have. But there is no age mentioned for the reader. As for the "unfinished relationship talk", it's basically the reader letting Jax process everything that was said to get his feelings and thoughts aligned. Pushing him to talk when he's conflicted usually ends up with him blowing up, so they'll sit down and revisit the discussion later. A/N: I had this mostly written up ages ago, just needed to finish and clean it up. It felt weird... coming back to TADC after so long... This is also like over 2.2k words... normally I wouldn't post something this long here but, eh why not.

“So how long do you see the two of you ‘dating’ for? You know if there is an exit and we get out of here, the two of you will probably break up.”

“Why would we break up just because we’re back outside?”

You shot Zooble a confused look who only returned it with their own confused expression. It’s hard to speak for Jax, but you had been in this for the long run, it wasn’t just some “hey let’s date to pass time while we’re trapped here”. So far Jax has yet to give you any implications that he wasn’t taking this relationship as a means of passing time.

Zooble shook off the confusion and crossed their arms. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t get it what’s the issue?”

“The issue is that you really think the two of you are just gonna continue as if this place didn’t happen?”

The confusion only grew the more they spoke, is that how the others saw your relationship? Just the two of you using each other to pass the time? Well, that hurt.

“I do actually, I don’t know what you and the others think about the two of us but I love Jax and I’d be willing to do my part to make the relationship work. I know he doesn’t seem like it but I know Jax would too.”

You leaned in close and cupped your mouth with one hand and spoke in a quiet voice. “He’s quite a faithful guy despite his flirty demeanor.”

Zooble let out an unpleasant snort at the statement, it was hard to see Jax as someone faithful and not just using you for his own means. But what did they know?

Unbeknownst to either of you, Jax had made his way over to the two of you but instead of making himself known, he tucked himself around the corner to eavesdrop. You rarely hung out with Zooble, so of course he got curious.

“So what, you’re just gonna keep dating him for the rest of your life?” They paused and blinked a few times before letting out a dry laugh. “Don’t tell me you see yourself marrying him?”

Marry? Marry who? His brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and irritation, you weren’t cheating on him, were you? The only other guy there besides him was Kinger, and let’s just say if it wasn’t for the fact he was trying to stay hidden he would’ve burst out into laughter. That’s a hilarious image, you with Kinger of all people.

“Marrying him?” The thought never crossed your mind, you saw a long life with Jax but the idea of marriage never popped up. Would he even want that? He’d probably make a joke if you ever popped the question, or say some shit like how he doesn’t expect you guys to get out of here so it’d never happen.

Plus would you want him to give up his youth any further than he already has by being trapped here? Did he even date before you? How much of his young adult life did he get to experience compared to you? You were older than him, you’d been able to do stuff with that adulthood before coming here.

Zooble frowned seeing you lost in your head, shit they didn’t mean to upset you. They uncrossed their arms and started to reach out to apologize but you snapped out of your thoughts before they could do more.

“Do you think marriage in the circus would be acknowledged out there?”

“What?”

You rolled your eyes and gave your hand a little wave. “I mean do you think if we got married here, it would be recognized legally out there? I mean, even if it wasn’t then we could just get married again. Knowing Jax he’d probably not want anything fancy so a little stop by the courthouse to sign some papers would be fine with me. I’m sure Caine could create a perfect digital wedding, that’d save us a fortune. Do you know how expensive weddings are? And we’d get it for free!”

As you went off on your tangent you missed the look of shock on Zooble’s face, and the two of you collectively missing out on the reddening of Jax’s face the more you spoke. Zooble didn’t know what to expect after you’d gone silent, and neither had Jax—should he even be hearing this right now? You weren’t serious were you?

“You’d do that? Get married to him twice?”

A pleasant hum escaped you at the question. “If he wanted to, yeah. The topic hasn’t come up so I don’t really know what he’d think, but I’m not opposed to it. I know he’s got his quirks—”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Zooble interrupted.

“—but I accept those for the most part and it’s what makes him, him.” You continued, ignoring their interruption.

“I’m not the type to short-term date someone, and even if it’s weird to think about I could see myself settling down with him for good. Whether that’s here or there, though I’d much prefer it be out there but I’ll take whatever I can get.”

In truth Jax had never thought about marriage, he barely thought about dating until you showed up. And even then dating wasn’t on his mind until later on. There’s a tickle of laughter in his chest at the very thought, and not the good kind of laughter, the mockery kind of laughter.

Who the hell cares about something like marriage in the circus?

“You’re serious.”

You shot Zooble another confused look laced with irritation. “Zooble I’d appreciate it if you stopped questioning my feelings. I know what I feel and I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t serious.”

“Right, sorry.”

The two of you stood there awkwardly, Zooble shuffling in place trying to brush off your intense staring. In the process of trying to look anywhere but you they caught a glimpse of Jax hiding, the two made eye contact and Jax nervously shook his head silently hoping Zooble wouldn’t call him out.

Zooble broke eye contact first and looked at you, crossing their arms. “If the two of you do have a wedding, at least the wedding will be small. You know, assuming you invite the rest of us.”

A smile washed away the scowl at the statement. “Of course! I couldn’t think of anyone I’d want more than you guys to be there, regardless of what Jax says I want my new little digital family to be there.”

You opened your arms to offer a hug, Zooble was one of the two people that you let initiate any physical contact such as hugging. They were stiff and it felt awkward but they returned the hug, letting you give them a good squeeze before pulling back.

Zooble caught Jax silently laughing at their discomfort and shot him a glare before looking at you. “I’m gonna go, this is too much wholesome shit for me.” they paused and nodded their head towards the doorway. “Besides, looks like someone wants to talk to you.”

Jax hissed, shooting them a glare with a silent promise to dismember them later for ratting him out.

Throwing a glance over your shoulder you see Jax and momentarily worry if he heard any of that. “Oh hey.” Jax steps out from around the corner and grumbles back a greeting, eyes still locked on Zooble as they leave. “Stop that.”

He finally looked away once Zooble was gone and looked down at you, crossing his arms loosely. “Didja mean what ya said?”

“Said?” You swallow nervously. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.” Sure it wasn’t the whole conversation but he definitely heard more than enough.

This wasn’t how you were hoping to pop the question, but at least you didn’t have an audience. “I… yeah I did. I was gonna bring up the topic at a later point but uh, now’s a good time I guess.”

“You’d really wanna marry me? Me?”

“Oh don’t sound too surprised.” Your eyes roll purely out of habit by this point. “I would, but uh..” His posture stiffens and you’re quick to continue, lest he get the wrong idea. “You’re younger than me… I don’t know what you got to experience before being stuck here. I don’t wanna feel like I’m… like I’m getting in the way of you having experiences before something like marriage.”

Jax let out a few awkward chuckles, right, he always forgot about the age gap. His worries weren’t on his experiences but more on how you seemed so casual about settling down with him of all people. You could do so much better—even if he hated to admit it, the thought of you with someone else made him upset.

“I don’t think experiences really matter—”

“They do though. If I’m the only person you’ve dated then how do you know you won’t come to tire of me or regret something as big as marriage? Isn’t there a quote that basically says most first relationships never last?”

Under normal circumstances watching you spiral would be fun, but this wasn’t fun watching you put yourself down. “Hey, since when do you believe in that junk?”

Okay, he’s got you there, you didn’t believe in that crap but still.

“I should be saying the same thing to you…” he started, ignoring the confused look you gave him. “You’ve got more experience but who’s to say you won’t get tired of me?” He let out a bitter laugh and gestured to himself. “Have ya seen me?” He’s a class-A asshole with little to no care about the other idiots trapped in here aside from you. Anyone could tell you he wasn’t husband material.

“Jax—”

“Nah, babe I’m being serious. I know those pretty lil eyes of yours see clear as day what kinda person I am. The others are sick and tired of me and want me gone, it’s only a matter of time before ya fuckin’ see I’m not whatever ya think I am.”

It hurt seeing him spiral, his voice shook despite the anger on his face, and if you looked close enough it looked like he was ready to cry any second. Before he could continue to berate himself, you grabbed the straps of his overalls and gave a firm yank bringing him to your height.

“Apologize.” Jax froze, anger and confusion clear as day. “Apologize to yourself, right now.”

“The fuck are ya talking about?”

“I said, apologize.” You repeated through gritted teeth. “Look I won’t lie and say you aren’t a handful—” Jax opened his mouth to retort but you pulled the straps of his overalls harder, not giving him the chance to interrupt. “But who isn’t a handful? Especially in a place like this, we’ve all got our baggage and you aren’t an exception.”

The scowl and anger never fell from his face as you spoke. “Out of all of us, you’re the third longest to be here—you’ve experienced so much and so little while being trapped in this shit hole. I would be surprisingly impressed if you didn’t have some sort of trauma-like response or body-eating anxiety.”

“I’m not trying to excuse your behaviour, because frankly, it can be very uncalled for in some cases—but I won’t pretend to know everything about you, or why you are the way that you are. But I’m willing to take the time and sit down, and try to understand you. We don’t have to get married now, heck we don’t have to get married ever. I am more than willing to just stay happily by your side with you.”

You finished your rant, panting, staring Jax straight in the eye as much as he tried to avoid yours. The look of anger had melted away, the scowl lessened but his brows furrowed, no doubt struggling to process your words.

“I’m not going to make you respond to that right now, because I know that was a lot and I know you’re struggling with your thoughts, feelings, and words. But we will talk about this later, okay? You will apologize to yourself.”

The grip on his clothing loosened, prompting him to slowly pull himself upright, eyes still avoiding yours. You knew him too well already, that after big or heavy topics it would take his brain what was the equivalence of three to five business days to work himself out, less he lashes out. He wanted to at least give you that level of courtesy compared to the others.

Jax nodded and you exhaled a breath of relief before gently taking his hand. “Good, now do you want me to lead you to your room so you can be alone a bit, or do you wanna go mess around? I heard Bubble was going to try and “bake” again, maybe we can mess around with him.”

Did he wanna be alone right now? Yes, there was a lot to process. But the temptation of fuckin with Bubble started to outweigh it. Eh, fuck it, he could process it later. Not every day he could fuck with Bubble.

He nodded, and without even needing a verbal answer you knew by the slow-growing smirk what option he picked.

“I would love to harass Bubble with my potentially one-day spouse.”

#tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #tadc #the amazing digital circus x reader #jax #jax x reader

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karasukarei · 2 months ago

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Wind Breaker Drama CD vol. 2 - Oedo-style Fuurin Tale (Part 4 - final)

Translation masterpost here!

Part 1 here! Part 2 here! Part 3 here!

Special thanks to @orewing !

Scene 12 – 21:53~24:40

Choji: That’s great, that’s great! Ume-chan is really strong!

Umemiya: *panting* (t/n: this is really hot) You too Tomiyama!

Sakura: Come at me again with all your strength!

Togame: Igoatama (t/n: literally “the guy behind”; this is Togame’s nickname for Sakura here instead of othello)... You’re stronger than I expected…

Hiiragi: Umemiya! Sakura!

Choji: Eh? Your friends are here?

Togame: There should’ve been a lot of our guys downstairs too…

Enomoto: If it’s those guys you’rrrrrrre talking about, we’ve cleaned them up!

Hiiragi: Yeah. Surrender now.

Togame: Ehhh? As expected of Fuurin-gumi. You guys are as strong as the rumours say.

*sheathes / drops sword*

Umemiya: We didn’t come to fight with your for the sake of it. I don’t know what your motive is, but stop your evil act of taking haori from samurai right aw-

Choji: Ah! That’s fine!

Umemiya: Eh?

Choji: We’re not taking haori anymore. We were looking for a legendary haori, but we don’t need it anymore.

Everybody: Huh?

Togame: Huuuuuuuuuuh? (t/n: it’s a suuuuper long and slow “huuuuuuuh”. Like a tortoise) Wait, why? You were saying you wanted it so badly just now, right? That’s why we’ve been working so ha-

Choji: I had a suuuper fun time fighting with Ume-chan today! But if I get the haori and become stronger than anyone else, I won’t be able to have fun duels with Ume-chan anymore, right? I thought that’ll be really boring!

Togame: Ehhhhh…?

Umemiya: I don’t really get it, but does that mean you’ll stop coming to wreck the town?

Choji: Yup, I’ll return all the haori we took too!

Umemiya: Oh, is that so? Then as for this incident, let’s just drop it here?

Hiiragi: *with his stomach in anguish* If you guys are fine with it that’s alright.

Kiryuu: Eh? Eh? So we’re really just going to end it like this?

Suo: Looks like it.

Sakura: Anyway, what’s with this “legendary haori”?

Choji: Hmm, recently when I was in town, I heard a rumour! A legendary haori that raises your strength, and makes you stronger than anyone else when you wear it!

Tsuge: What’s that!? Sounds real great!

Choji: Right, right?!

Togame: When I went to ask around, it seems that the samurai who was wearing that haori was in the next town over, and Choji came to look for him.

Kiryuu: So that’s why you were taking the haori of samurai..

Nirei: But in the end, you never found it right? I heard rumours that you’ll recognise it right away, cos it’s a flashy pattern that you rarely see in Edo.

Suo: Ah! Could that haori be…?

Scene 13 – 24:40~end

Umemiya: Alright! Wait there a little till the camera is ready!

Nirei: Understood!

Hiiragi: Even then, who would’ve thought that the legendary haori Tomiyama was after was Nirei’s haori?

Nirei: Ah, ahahah… hahaha…

Tsuge: But in the end, that’s just a regular, flashy haori right? Why did so many rumours spring from it?

Nirei: Uh, that’s… Before I joined Fuurin-gumi, I wanted to at least look like I was a strong person, so I wore that haori. And when I wore it i really looked like I was stronger and I was really happy, and when I was speaking to the people in town, I told them that I was overflowing with power, that I felt strong just from wearing it, and things started to get mixed up.

Kiryuu: So while you were telling many people about this, the story got twisted more and more…

Suo: And it turned into the rumour of the haori that makes you stronger than anyone else when you wear it, right?

Sugi (?): How foolish…

Nirei: I’m really sorry for the trouble I caused!

Umemiya: But we managed to have a meaningful exchange with Shishi-no-Kashira when we previously had no interaction with them at all, it’s all thanks to Nirei’s haori!

Nirei: Umemiya-san!!! *one the verge of tears*

Umemiya: When we spoke they seemed like really interesting fellows too, next time let’s go visit them!

Sakura: But we can’t interfere with my settlement with Togame.

Hiiragi: Looks like we’re getting more troublesome things now.

Enomoto: Since we’rrrrrre taking photos today, arrrrrren’t you wearrrrring that haorrrrrri?

Nirei: Yes! I’m still weak and can only be on lookouts now, but from now on I’m going to work hard so that I can properly protect this town!

Hiiragi: That’s a good ambition.

Nirei: Yes!

Suo: Bye the way, hasn’t Sakura been wandering around here for a while now?

Tsuge: It’s his first time in a photo studio.

Sakural: This isn’t a place I’d just go to like that!

Kiryuu: Is the photo today to commemorate the end of the Shishi-no-kashira incident?

Umemiya: Yeah, there’s that too, but the main reason we’re coming to take photos is to commemorate Sakura and friends joining Fuurin-gumi!

Sakura: There’s no need to take photographs just for this!

Umemiya: Ehhh? It’s fine isn’t it?

Nirei: I’m really happy about it! Sakura’s really happy about it too, right?

Sakura: Eh?! It’s not like I’m happy about it…!

Suo: You’re not really honest are you?

Sakura: Shut up!

Kaji: The camera is ready.

Umemiya: Aight! Ok everyone! Gather here! Sugishita too, don’t leave any gaps, come right here!

Sugi: Yes…

Umemiya: Right! We’re taking the photo now! Smile everyone, don’t move! Thank you!

#wind breaker #wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker anime #windbreaker #wbktimely #wbk #omg im done #this entire drama was really pretty long #it's about 25% longer than the first one #but ngl i learned a lot of new words www #i like to think my jp improves each time i translate but from what my friend told me i end up speakign really rudely #i need to practice keigo and teineigo more....#instead of going こっっっっっっっらお前っっっっっら

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metal-berry · 4 months ago

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RWBY die-hards are so funny tbh. They spent the past five years deliberately and vehemently gatekeeping the fndm to a ridiculously high degree, doing things like gloating that they were "purging" the fndm of all but the show's most ardent worshipers, launching vicious smear campaigns against anyone and everyone who said even the mildest bit of criticism and slinging baseless accusations of "sexism" and "homophobia" against them (even though an overwhelming majority of their targets have been queer or women or both, while an overwhelming majority of RWBY's creative team have been straight men with histories of open misogyny and queerphobia) they've bullied fan-artists off every platform, they've sent hate mail, death threats, rape threats, slurs, they've literally posted long lists of "rules" they expect fans to follow "or else" (and the rules include things like "you must fiercely advocate for my favorite ship" and "you must love my favorite characters and hate my least favorites" and "No AU's or Fix-it fics allowed" and then if anyone is caught breaking these "rules" they get labeled as "the HTDM" and viciously smeared and bullied out of the fndm, they've deliberately sought out popular fanworks and started viciously smearing and harassing the fan creators while gloating "if you criticize the product sold by a corporation, we get to coordinate cyberbullying campaigns against you as an individual artist who makes fanart for free, because those are totally the same thing in our minds so you deserve it!!!" They've swarmed YouTubers like penguinz0 or Hbomberguy and harassed them with death threats and accused them of "trying to kill rwby" (as if it couldn't possibly have anything to do with 1. Rooster Teeth being a horrifically abusive and bigoted company that every decent person decided to stop supporting, 2. "CRWBY" being comprised of and run by Rooster Teeth bigwigs including four of the five founding fathers of the company and several department heads, many of whom have open histories of extreme bigotry themselves, which bled into the show and caused extreme bigotry to be baked into the writing itself, and 3. *this exact fandom*, all of which together are enough of a poison itself, to the point where having a couple of youtubers say "so this isn't a good mix" was never going to actually affect viewership NEARLY as much as the Corporation and Fandom were already doing) and also can we talk about the horrific amounts of biphobia that gets leveled against the people who ship Blake with literally ANYONE other than Yang and ship Yang with literally ANYONE other than Yang?? Because my god the biphobia that exists within the Die-Hards in this fandom is off the fucking charts. The amount of specifically bisexual fans who have been viciously attacked because they did not list bumblby among all the queer ships they liked. The amount of times I've seen people say things like "the only reason anyone likes BlackSun is if they're homophobic" when a lot of BlackSun shippers are openly bi and ship them as a bi-for-bi ship. The amount of times I've seen people say things like "the only reason anyone PRETENDS to like Freezerburn is if they're trying to shove Yang with a random girl so they can force Blake to date a stinky MAN while using Yang and Weiss as shields to protect themselves from being caught as the homophobes they really are." The amount of times I've seen people attack fans who ship Blake with Ilia or Ruby or Nora, or fans who ship Yang with Pyrrha or Neon or Nora, because it *does not matter* if you actively ship a hundred queer rwby ships and write hundreds of fics about it and draw endless fanart of it, if you say "eh I personally just don’t care for Blake X Yang" or even if you say "I used to be a hard-core bumblby shipper but the way the writers chose to execute it left a lot to be desired and turned me off the ship" you get labeled a "Sexist Homophobe" and violently abused and bullied. It's fucking disgraceful, it's NO WONDER this fandom is fucking dead

When a fandom: a) posts strict rules detailing exactly which interpretations, headcanons, character opinions, and ships are REQUIRED in order to be considered "not a hater," b) viciously attacks and harasses every single person on the internet who does not follow those strict rules and labels them a "hater" because of it, c) slings baseless and despicable accusations of "sexism" and "homophobia" against these so-called "haters," because apparently they're too ignorant to pick up a dictionary and learn that "criticizing rwby" is not included in the definition of those words, while also completely ignoring or even *denying* the fact that most of their targets are queer women and most of our complaints are that *rwby is textbook sexist and homophobic and RACIST AND ABLEIST and was created and almost entirely written by openly sexist and homophobic and racist and ableist men, and you actually kind of have to have failed Progressivism 101 in order to not see it,* d) engages in open bigotry themselves by attacking marginalized people to punish them for condemning bigotry while using bigoted slurs and dogwhistles against them, and e) deliberately "purges" the fandom of every single fanartist, fanfic writer, theorist, meta analyst poster, or even shit-poster who DARED to express an opinion that didn't conform to the "rules" and therefore got labeled a "bigoted hater" who "laid down with the dogs" and was "guilty by association..."

The fandom dwindles away to nothing, and dies

And then the last remaining Die-Hards who got their wish and "purged" the fandom of everybody whose opinions did not 100% align with theirs, get all pissy whenever they see somebody like you acknowledge the empty void left behind

The fandom got so militant and zealous with their gatekeeping that there's just nobody left anymore, except for the few who turned Worshiping RWBY into a cult and violently kicked out everyone who didn't conform - but they consider that to be a "victory" so they attack every new straggler who walks into the vast empty field and says "there used to be a fandom here."

That post that was made five years ago about how it was time for the mega-stans to "purge the fndm" of everyone who didn't conform to THEIR view of the show? Yeah lol well they succeeded and I hope they're happy with their echo-chamber of circle-jerking Yes-Men who have been throwing all their hard-earned money at bigots and abusers while crying about the uncertain future of the show they turned into their identity, and I hope one day they realize that THEY contributed to Rooster Teeth's downfall far more than the critics ever did

Because fandom has historically thrived on diversity of opinion, including the allowance of criticism and the celebration of fanworks

So when a culty subsection of the fandom decrees that freedom of expression is WRONG and differing opinions are WRONG and writing fanfiction they don't like is WRONG and drawing fanart they don't like is WRONG and shipping ships they don't like is WRONG and not shipping the ships they do like is WRONG and liking characters they dislike is WRONG and disliking the characters they do like is WRONG and criticizing the corporation behind the product is WRONG and holding the product creators accountable for their hateful and ignorant beliefs is WRONG and choosing to withhold our money from those who have been proven to be abusive bigots is WRONG and therefore demanding change instead of letting them keep getting away with everything is WRONG, and so they are so totally justified in their efforts to deliberately cyberstalk, harass, and bully the "Arrogant, Entitled, Ungrateful" non-conformists until they've driven everybody away...

The fandom dies

And there's nobody left to BUY THE PRODUCT

*shocked Pikachu face* that RT went belly-up???

The Die-Hard Mega-Stans are the ones that killed RWBY. That's why they're so desperate to point fingers and bitterly curse the names of all the fans they deliberately ORDERED to "Stop Watching," "Stop Posting," "Stop talking," "Stop Writing," "Stop Drawing," "Stop BUYING," and that's why they're so fucking ANGRY every time they see proof that their mass gatekeeping, mass cyberbullying, mass smearing campaigns WORKED.

The fandom is dead because they fucking drowned it on purpose, and they refuse to admit that fact to themselves

What else can they do but lash out?

What else is there to say? You nailed it. I was there in the very beginning when the fandom was thriving and I watched the wasps slowly kill it. I remember all the creative au’s and how even rarepairs got content. It’s not even a husk of its former self, it’s crumbled dust.

#rwde #long post

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