#your honour it is impossible for him not to be a criminal | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

letorip · 6 months ago

Text

casual [ii]

"is it casual now? i know what you tell your friends, it's casual, if it's casual now"

===+++===

pairing: natalie scatorccio x reader

summary: you keep telling yourself it's casual, but it still manages to bother you so much when you realise nat is ducking you.

warnings: explicit sexual content, SMUT (nat recieving), drug use, alcohol consumption, mostly set up chapter, 'i love you' but in a sad way :(

word count: 7.7k

A/N: there will ALREADY BE A PART 3 FINALE ON THE WAY. amount of research i did on US schooling, US version of Windolene, and the 1996 US Presidential Election should be criminal.

***also to be clear because i know i was kind of confusing about it last time, Nat’s father is still alive, this is a no crash au, and there’s still about a week left to go to nationals, Lottie’s party is NOT the night before, for the sake of my sanity

===+++===

===+++===

Dinner that night exceeded your expectations by far, or at least in terms of awkwardness. It laced the air in thick wafts that made you shift in your chair from time to time, out of need of something to do.

"So Julie," your mother said. She raised her glass with a distinguished elegance and sipped her wine. "I heard that last year you went to the state science fair." She said it with a glance at you over the lip and dramatic overemphasis, as if she expected you to stand and applaud. “You won first place?”

You took the hint and sent Julie a smile fixed in place, and then one down to her parents at the other end. These sort of set ups went better when you appeared to give them a good try. "Oh really?"

"I did!” The smile she had worn all night widened, veneers a crisp white colour that looked like the blank walls of a dentist’s office. “It was a project on sea turtles. My dad flew us out to Barbados to work with a research team.” If Julie had said any more on her project, you could not hear it.

There was a beautiful oil painting right behind her on the wall, in a thick copper frame that glinted in the dining room light. The portrait had hung there since you were a child, but from that angle it had felt mundane. A random portrait of a random woman your father had bought on a random business trip. Now, it was impossible for you to see the soft, beautiful blues of the woman's eyes and not think of Natalie's.

Perhaps that was karma. The conversation with Nat still hung over your thoughts in an ever-present guilt, and the longer you thought about it, the less you thought you liked yourself. Not that there was much to be done about that, of course.

A silence filled the room and you looked back to Julie, who stared at you with a blank expression. You glanced around the table, only to find everyone else’s eyes on you too. Shit.

“Sorry, what was the question?” you flushed. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Lottie stifle a laugh, and your father’s gaze down at the other end. His disapproval was thick in his eyebrows, and you rubbed the back of your neck, sheepish.

Julie continued to beam at you, and you shifted in your seat. “I was wondering if you also liked science.”

“Oh. I don’t really love—,” before you could finish, your mom took it away, interrupting and reaching over the table to clasp Julie’s hand in her own.

“Of course! (Y/n) here is the president of Science Honours Society at Wiskayok. Don’t let the bruises fool you, (Y/n) is a giant studier and scholar.” Ah, the bruises.

Your mom had freaked the hell out when she saw you, just as you knew she would. Her immediate reaction had been to cover them with concealer, and then she had almost cried when you could still see the purple and red skin underneath.

“(Y/n)’s also a giant nerd,” Bobby said. “Know-it-all, more like,” he corrected with a laugh, leaning towards her as if trying to steal the show. You wouldn’t have stopped him, if he was. He had mentioned finding her pretty, not that she seemed to be interested in him. Your other cousin, Trent, knocked him on the side of the head, before he went back to his food.

“Robert,” your father chided, before turning to Julie and her parents himself. “(Y/n) here will be Valedictorian, at the end of the year. Academics are important to us, and I assure you, science is part of that.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Mrs. Roosevelt said. “Do you know where you’re going to college yet?”

You shrugged, eyes on your plate. “Either Brown or Princeton.”

Your mom clasped her hands together, excited. “Mr. (L/n) and his mother and father, and his mother and father before him and so on, all went to and fell in love at Princeton. We donate money every year. And then, well, there’s Brown or Columbia, as options.”

“I was considering Princeton, too,” Julie said. “Of course, we have ties to Harvard as a family, but Princeton always piqued my interest.” At that, you hid what would’ve been a snort behind a cheeky smile. Nat’s ‘fuckin’ rich people,’ played back in your mind in a memory of the warm afternoon you had just spent in her bed. “We could meet at Princeton, right? Like your grandparents?”

You blinked, unable to compute the rather forward question into your brain along with the warmth you could feel spread out on your cheeks. Lottie watched you again, fork half in her mouth, amused and entertained beyond belief. But Julie Roosevelt, as nice as she was, wouldn’t be the one for you.

You cleared your throat, mustering an apologetic smile. “Um…yeah, it would be great to have other friends there.”

“Right…friends," said Julie, staring at you blankly. You didn’t need to look at her, to feel your mother’s disappointment. Bobby and Trent were staring, too. Lottie had her eyes on her food.

"So, did anyone ask Reginald what dessert tonight will be?" your father asked. He didn't look in your direction. You were grateful for it. He was usually the one to bridge the gap, and you had missed him when he was in Tokyo.

"I do believe he said it would be cheesecake," your mother replied. She turned her fork over in her salad, considerably less vibrant than before.

Trent nodded, sipping his water. "That'll be good." He turned to your father with a chuckle. "Did you hear that Buchanan's stepped down from the bid for president?" At that point you let the conversation go on around you, but were all too content to sit back and just observe.

===+++===

"(Y/N)!" a faint voice came into your bathroom. You blinked.

“Yeah?” But there was no reply. At least, not for a minute.

"(Y/N), GET DOWN HERE, NOW!"

You paused in front of the bathroom mirror. The toothbrush still hung from your mouth, and you furrowed your eyebrows, painfully so with the bruise on your eye, questioning if what you were hearing was real. It was all too early in the morning, for you to be running late.

"(Y/N), I'M NOT KIDDING AROUND, DAMMIT!" Your father yelled, and now you were sure you were awake. You furrowed your eyebrows at the anger in his voice and plugged your electric toothbrush into its holder, before sliding on your slippers and opening your door.

There was a whole bunch of commotion going on in the foyer below, and while your mom had held her tongue about Julie the night before, it didn't make sense for your father to be this angry you had turned her down, right? You ran your hand through your bedhead, in an halfhearted attempt to first xit as you still groggily came down the long set of stairs.

"What?" you asked. Your dad had his back to you, talking with Reginald, and Maribel was crying in the corner with a bottle of windex in her hands, but he spun around the moment he heard your voice.

"Don't 'what' me. Go look outside. Right now." His face was all red when he said it, like a scary tomato, and it somewhat snapped you out of your sleepy daze.

The front door was wide open, and there was a gardener who wasn't usually there until later, walking right on in with a wad of toilet paper in his hand. You blinked, then half-stumbled through your door and out onto the driveway.

Fucking hell.

Even from far away, you could smell the rotted eggs, splattered onto the windows of your house and dripping down the sides in clumps. They were everywhere, coating parts of your driveway and sitting in hedges. What was the worst was the white Rolls Royce your father had just bought, which had egg yolks covering the windshield and all along the fresh paint job from where it sat under the awning. Behind it, right on the garage door in spray-painted red letters was 'fuck you.'

Where there weren't eggs, there were reams and reams of toilet paper, strung from the red oaks and trimmed hedges. One or two rolls had unfurled down the length of your driveway entirely, reaching all the way to the end like some sort of demented breadcrumb trail for Reginald, who had apparently discovered the mess when he pulled into work and up the drive that morning.

Your father followed you out, his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. "Do you, at all, happen to know why my lawn looks like this?" he demanded.

You swallowed. "No, I'm sorry.”

“You’re sorry? What the hell am I going to do with sorry?”

“It must just be someone from the high school pranking me." It wasn't. It didn't take a genius to make a guess, though. Nat had been pissed, but you didn’t think it would be this pissed.

"Well, whoever it was had access to our neighbourhood gate, (Y/n).” Your father pointed an angry finger at you, poking you harshly in the chest. “You didn't give the code to anyone, did you? We told you not to, unless it was approved by me or your mother."

You stared down at the ground. You were still in your slippers and silk pyjamas. "No, I promise dad, I didn't. I don't know how they got in."

His gaze was still heavy for a moment, eyes and eyebrows thick and heavy, as he scanned your face for the traces of a lie. He didn't find one, and when he didn't, he turned to Reginald, who stood in the doorway behind him, with a sigh.

"Can you pull the old Jaguar from the motor court? We'll need this cleaned up by the time I'm back for work."

Reginald nodded. "Right away, sir."

"Good," he said, and then he turned to you. "And you. I'll be changing our gate code as soon as possible. No giving it out. Your friends are lucky nothing was damaged— we'll sue no question."

"Yes sir," you said, keeping your eyes down.

"Good. Go get ready for school. Don't mention this to anyone."

"Yes sir." You couldn't get back inside fast enough, practically jogging in your slippers and up the stairs. You got about halfway up, before your mother called out to you.

"(Y/n), is that you?"

You froze, considering for a moment just going up like you hadn't heard her. You didn't get the chance though.

"Come down here."

"Yes mother." You turned back around, heading down to where she sat in the formal living room. It was closest to the door, and she must've been watching through the front window. In her left hand was a familiar bottle of wine, and she reeked of its contents. She didn't look too pleased, but with her it was more of a morning thing than the egging.

"Are you going to say good morning to me, darling?"

You nodded. "Sorry. Good morning, mother."

"There you go. Your eye still looks dreadful." Ah, the bruises.

Your mom lost her ever-loving mind when she saw you, just as you knew she would. Her immediate reaction had been to cover them with concealer, and then she had almost cried when you could still see the purple and red skin underneath and the Roosevelts would be arriving any minute.

It was a bit funny that your bloody nose was still visible, in a morbid way, but you knew better than to laugh about it in front of her, and moving your face still hurt in places. Lottie— who watched from atop the bathroom counter— laughed for the both of you instead, which earned her a shriek from your mother.

"It's going to, for the next few weeks. That's what Misty said."

She huffed. "Well, Julie was a disappointment, and we need you to get back out there, if you're going to have a date for prom. Your father and I can't have you going alone."

"I might not be going to prom," you replied, messing with the collar of your pyjama shirt. "The Yellowjackets might be going to nationals, remember? I have to go."

"Yes, well, at least get a date just in case. Everyone else in the neighbourhood will, and we can’t have you alone.”

“Lottie would also be alone.”

“Well I’m not Lottie’s parents now am I?”

“No.”

“Right, I’m not. Now, don’t cut my head off for this, but are you sure you like girls?" You glared and she waved you off. "Don't look at me like that, I just mean you're not having very much success with girls, is all. It's 1996, your father and I are very forward-thinking.”

It took all your energy not to laugh. If they wanted to believe they were forward thinking, you'd let them. The same could be said for success with girls. Instead, you shrugged. "All the girls you've picked are just so boring. There isn't a spark."

Your mother rolled her eyes. "There doesn't always have to be one. For me and your father, there wasn't. We met and then slowly worked towards a love. That instant-love stuff is for children who've seen too many Disney movies, and those soppy Democrats."

"Maybe spark was the wrong word, mother— I don't even feel a connection. They’re super ‘meh’ and stuff."

"Don’t say ‘and stuff’ you make yourself sound stupid. These girls are all from great families, (Y/n). I'm sure there are kids at your school who would love a chance to talk to Julie, or Margot or Sloane— god Sloane is in high demand. I think it's the cheerleading."

“Mother.”

“Yes— sorry. Go fix your hair, you look unkempt. And think about it. Julie wasn’t too bad, she made that joke about forks. Funny.” It hadn’t been.

“Yes mother,” you said, and you stalked away and back up the stairs without another word. You were already running late, with the whole egg thing, and you needed to figure out what you would do with your face the way it was.

===+++===

“Can we stop for coffee?” Lottie groaned, tapping her fingers along the sill of your passenger side window. “‘s so fucking early.” She was splayed out in the seat, with a backup blanket you kept in the second row thrown over her legs and cuddling up to her backpack. You scoffed, fingers on the wheel with an extra tightness.

“Hell no. We’re going to be late for the meeting.” But she just groaned again.

“I didn’t even want to be part of it. You were the jerk who made me.”

“You’re literally the treasurer. You’re on the club board.”

“And? I’m shit at french.”

“You’re shit at a lot of things.”

“And you’re shit at catching a ball with anything but your face,” she giggled.

There didn’t end up being anything you could do. Going to bed had only made the bruising worse, and your nose was a bright red while your eye sat at a deep, unnatural black colour with touches of purple on the outside. You were sure to get odd looks by anyone you passed, but you decided to just get it over with and wear it out.

At the light you turned, driving down the familiar street that led to WHS, and as soon as the coffee shop was in sight, Lottie smacked her hand onto the glass, dragging her fingers down and leaving prints.

“I need to tell you something,” you said, frowning. Lottie whipped around in her seat.

“Are you finally going to say what happened with Nat yesterday?”

You rolled your eyes. "I thought you'd never ask."

She laughed. "I mean, I was going to, in the car ride home. You just didn't say a whole word the entire drive. It was freaking me out, actually. I thought you were either brain dead from Carter’s throw-in or didn’t want to talk about it.”

"Sorry," you mumbled. Lottie shook her head.

"It's fine. I'd probably stop talking for a bit too, if I found out Jackie was right about something."

"It was reality breaking," you nodded with a smile. It took until you both stopped at the light for you to muster the ability to speak again. "Nat’s upset about me potentially seeing other girls.”

"That's what I figured," said Lottie. "Soooo…what now?"

“It gets worse,” you said, shaking your head.

“Delightful.”

“I think she egged my house.”

Lottie laughed for a moment in a giant burst, but she stopped when you just held your stare on the road ahead. “Wait— are you serious???”

You nodded. “There were eggs and toilet paper everywhere. My dad was pissed.”

“Nat wouldn’t do that, though. She’s not that kind of person,” she said, shaking her head.

“Who else would it be, Lottie? She wrote a giant ‘fuck you’ on my house. She’s the only one I gave my code to.”

Lottie furrowed her eyebrows. “Why’d you give her your code?”

“…My parents and Reginald were out of town in August. So…”

“Ew,” she scrunched her nose. “Got it.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll bet she’s on your dad’s shit list now.”

You frowned, remembering just how smooth her skin was against you. How she cradled your face in her hands like it was her whole world. “I didn’t tell him it was her.”

She stared at you for a moment, as if you had missed something spelt out in a bright neon sign that floated just above your head in a way you could never read it. Lottie shrugged, turning back to look out the window. “What are you going to say to her? I mean, it’s clear she wants your full attention.”

"Or that it’s over. She told me to ‘go to hell,’ Lot.”

“It’s because she cares about you. Like, a lot.” She gave you a more annoyed look, this time.

"What's the face for?" you whined.

"If Nat’s gonna be super mad at you, practice'll be awkward as hell."

"Probably," you said. "Nat asked me to go with her to your party. So, that too."

She sighed. “You just had to screw a Yellowjacket, huh?”

“Hey! I didn’t mean to.”

“It was an accident?” she said, raising her eyebrows.

“No!— ugh, you know what I mean…”

“I know.” Lottie crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in the car seat. "Maybe you could explain to her? Why it wouldn't work, and all?"

"Yeah," you huffed. "I'll just tell her she's considered trailer trash, and that my uppity parents want Miss Americana, who works in foreign countries with research teams for the science fair, and is at least four tax brackets above her. That'll go over great."

"Well don't say that," she rolled her eyes. Lottie thought for a moment. "…Do you at least like Nat, though?"

You frowned. "Would it even matter if I did?"

"Maybe," said Lottie. "Maybe it would matter." You pulled your car into your parking space, then pulled your key from the ignition. WHS always looked the same. Even in old photos your parents had shown, it had the same red brick and towering trees.

"Maybe I'll try to pull her aside…" you trailed off.

"That's probably a good idea," she nodded.

“Nat said Carter got detention?” You asked it as you grabbed your backpack from the backseat, tugging it over your shoulders while Lottie did the same.

“Yeah. Suspended from the team too,” she said, and you locked your car behind you both, as you headed through the old doors. French classrooms were on the opposite side of campus, down an older hallway that had yet to be renovated. Despite having two French teachers and a whole honours club, no one knew how to speak it.

The meeting had already started by the time you both slipped in, and Lottie awkwardly snuck along the wall to get up to the front where the leadership board was standing, who were less than pleased to see her late. Jackie waved you over to a seat in the back, and Jeff sat a few roads in front with his friends. Anyone who saw you stared for a second.

“Morning,” you mumbled, sliding into your seat.

“Morning,” she whispered back. “Your face looks terrible.”

“No, really?” you snorted. “I didn’t notice.”

“Stop talking!” came a voice from the front, and you could see Sloane glaring daggers at you from the front. She was the president of the club and she hadn’t liked you much since she dedicated a whole day to a date with you and you promptly refused a second.

“Sorry,” Jackie said, raising her hand to take the blame. Sloane shook her head, but went back to reading off of her notes. The moment her head was turned, Jackie leaned back over to you. “Boy, she needs the stick pulled out from her ass, huh?”

“It’s just ‘cause she’s French,” you whispered back to her with a grin.

“Yeah, well, she’s the only one. Besides, we all know it’s because Mr. Allard watches when she bends over.” You shook your head, stifling a laugh at the thought of the creepy old guy. Jackie nudged you in the shoulder. "Why was Nat pissed off yesterday, for the last bit of practice?"

You blinked. "What?"

"She came out all upset, like she was about to cry and stuff. Did you break her heart or something?"

"I don't know," you said with a frown. "I have no idea what we are at this point. I mean, I thought we were friends—"

Jackie scoffed. "Yeah right. You guys were friends, fucking in the back of your car. Real good friends, there."

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying. You definitely let her run wild with her fantasies of you."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"Maybe if you're Nat. A kid who's top of the class, hot, prom court, varsity, and not a complete asshole? You're like Prince Charming. Or Mother Theresa.”

"You're kidding, right?"

"What, do you have the emotional depth of a kiddie pool? No!"

“Jackie! Stop talking!”

“Yup! Sorry.”

===+++===

Nat didn't show up to school, that day. You knew because you waited for her, right at the door to the cafeteria, down the same hall she always came through. She wasn't there. You waited for her after what would've been her Biology class, leaning on the wall and watching everyone but her file out when the bell rang. She wasn't there either.

You even waited at the back of the school, after the final bell, to see if she would appear, but all you got were weird looks from kids in band tees and a whole waft of what smelled like weed. Nat smelled like that sometimes, but she tried to cover it with perfume. You could still smell it on her, but it blended with the smell to be uniquely Nat. As silly as that was, you liked that you knew that.

From the far wall, you could see Kevyn watching you, surrounded by kids you had seen Natalie with. You didn’t know Kevyn too well, only in passing mention from Nat, or in a story. He was the reason you two couldn’t meet up sometimes, though you tried not to hold that against him.

It wasn’t a thought you were very proud of, but your fingers tightened on the straps of your leather backpack with gold plating. Any one of your friends would laugh at you for being back here, and you stood out like a white sheep in a field of sheep in black leather jackets. You didn’t know any of these kids, but you could tell they knew of you, from the glances and whispers.

It seemed Kevyn couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. He stepped forward and at least attempted to shove his hands into his jean pockets, but they seemed a bit tight on him and he gave up. “The hell are you doing out here?” he grumbled out.

“Have you seen Nat?” you asked with an awkward smile.

Kevyn’s glare sharpened. “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Nice face, by the way.” So she had told him. You winced.

“Look, I really need to speak with her. It’s super important and—”

“—I don’t think you heard me. She doesn’t want to speak to you,” said Kevyn, interrupting and crossing his arms over his chest. You frowned.

“Kevyn, please…”

“I'm not telling you, country club.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Kevyn took another step forward with a challenge. “It’s what you are, isn’t it?” You could feel even more eyes on the both of you.

“I just need to find her.” It was embarrassing, how your voice shook as you said it, but that didn’t make it any less true.

“But you hurt her.”

You looked down. Air did not want to come easy. “I know. I know I did.”

Kevyn stayed silent for a while. It was the both of you just standing there while he seemed to mull over his options. He sighed. “She’s not here today. Didn’t want to come. She’ll be back tomorrow for practice.”

You nodded, raising your hands in appreciation. “Okay, thank you,” you rushed it out, getting ready to jet. The stoners still made you a bit uneasy. But before you could go he spoke up again.

“Nat’s not as tough as she acts, you know.”

You stopped, turning back to him. “What?”

“She wouldn’t shut up about you. It was almost like bragging. She’s— she was actually proud of something hers, for once.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. Your mother would be clutching the pearls of her necklace right now, if she saw where you were. She just might’ve died, the moment she smelled the weed.

Kevyn shook his head. “Don’t hurt her again. I fuckin’ mean it.”

You swallowed, managing to fix a smile to your face. It felt very hot out, then, and you turned around to leave this time. No one stopped you, but there were kids that watched you go.

The way he said it made you feel slimy. This would not be the triumphant lovers coming back together to be as one forever. That stuff was for kids who saw too many Disney movies. Maybe, though, she would let you sit skin to skin again in the warm, even if only for a little while. And that was perfectly normal for being casual, right?

===+++===

The sun was practically beating down on you, absolutely covered in sweat within the first ten minutes of being outside. You had gone to practice early, patiently waiting by the bench and doing up your cleats. It still felt weird. Since you and Nat had started the whole arrangement, you hadn’t gone a single day without hearing from the other. It set you on edge.

By the time the rest of the two teams had filed out onto the pitch, you already were kicking the ball around with Daniel DuPont. He always played with a smile, like Laura Lee, and you wished sometimes that you did too. A kick from you sent the ball towards him, and he booted it back so you caught it with your chest.

Your eye was doing better than the day before, but still looked violet and red, and your nose was still swollen, but you would’ve had to pry soccer practice from your cold, dead hands. On Friday afternoons your mother had her wine-tasting friends over and it was impossible to be less of a fan of the event than you were.

With the ball still bouncing on the grass, you kicked it towards Daniel, and he headed it back to you. "Here," he called it. You appreciated him being extra cautious with your eye injury, but he was playing as if you were a fragile package wrapped in bubble wrap, that needed coddling. You caught the ball with your chest, letting it drop to the ground.

"Pass!" Shauna called from the other side of the field, and you booted it in her direction, waving to everyone out there that you were off to talk to people. You took a singular step towards the benches when you saw her.

Nat stood with her back to you, fiddling with the plastic lid of her cup as if it was broken. Her hair looked especially bright in the sun, like it had in her room, or when you both went to the lake. Casual arrangements went to the lake, right?

You so badly wanted to go up to her and say something. Anything, really. But your feet were rooted to the ground and you were stuck watching her get ready. When she turned around, you weren't sure if it was better or worse than when she hadn't seen you. It was a hard stare to match, when she saw you and your eyes locked, even if it only lasted for a moment. They flew to your bruise right after, and then away. She was looking right through you with practiced indifference.

"Circle up!" Coach Martinez yelled to you all, walking right on the pitch and towards the centre. "Come on , we don't have all day!" Both teams slowly made their way over, but when enough had pooled around Coach Martinez and Coach Scott, Martinez pulled up his clipboard. "We're going to do some stretches, so just kind of space out."

===+++===

You didn't say anything to Nat the entirety of practice, but it was painfully obvious that you wanted to. You knew she could see you, staring at her and spacing out as you struggled to form the words you wanted to say to her. But she made no attempt to actually let you talk to her.

When you were on the drive home, Lottie nudged your arm. “So…Nat.”

“Yeah. Nat.” Your fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “What time are you coming over for the party?”

You shrugged. “No clue, to be honest. It depends when Jackie and Jeff plan on showing up.”

Lottie groaned. “Are they going to be annoying and have a whole drunk argument again?”

“See, that’s while I’ll probably ditch them for you and Shauna,” you laughed. “Last time they tried to get me involved on ‘who was smarter.’”

“But they’re both idiots.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

You dropped Lottie off at her house and then made the small drive up to yours. It was close enough of a distance where you two were technically neighbours, but not anywhere close to one that you’d willingly walk.

The moment you got home, you parked your car under the awning and hopped out, grabbing your backpack and your duffel bag and heading inside.

“Helllooo?” you called, up from the foyer and then making a beeline from the stairs. You had to get clean and dressed for Lottie’s party, and it didn’t help that you smelled from practice and were covered in sweat. Your father had flipped out when he had seen you first sweating on the leather of your car seat, but he had given up on convincing you to put a towel down first.

When you got to the top of the stairs, a voice called back out to you. “Hello, (Y/n).”

You leaned on the bannister, and Reginald appeared at the bottom with a smile. “Hey, Reggie.”

“Your parents are going out of town tonight. I think they aim to be back on Wednesday.” You raised your eyebrows.

“Since when?” you asked. It wasn’t unusual or anything, these trips were how they stayed married. If anything, it filled you with a rush.

“Since around 4. They’ll be in Monaco tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” you shrugged. “I’m going to a party tonight. Lottie’s.”

“You know I don’t mind,” Reginald said, tipping an imaginary hat and heading back towards the kitchen. “Just make sure you shower. You smell awful.”

“Thanks, Reggie.”

“Mhm.”

It took you about an hour to get ready, in a brand new outfit you had picked up with Lottie the weekend before. You stood by the armoire, sliding your rings onto your fingers and spritzing yourself, when your phone started vibrating in your pocket. You pulled your Motorola from your pocket, flipping it open with a groan when you saw the caller I.D. and realising what this was before you even needed to hear it.

“Yeah?”

“(Y/n),” Jackie said into the phone with the buzz of excitement in her voice. “Could you come and pick me and Jeff up for the party? I’d appreciate it, hubby.”

You laughed. “Sorry, sweetie. I’m literally next to Lottie’s house, that’s a whole bunch of driving I don’t want to do.”

“But Jeff loves your car,” she replied in a sing-song voice. “It’d make his day.”

“Nope,” you said, with a fond eye roll. “I have to help Lottie set up. I promised.”

“Terrible friend, then,” she joked. You shook your head.

“Mhm. See you when you get there, sweetie.”

“You too, hubby.”

===+++===

The party was all too much, for your liking. Rap blasted from Lottie’s speakers all across her backyard. A small fire you had started sat in the centre of it, with people standing around and drinking nearby.

On a truck someone had pulled back there, you could see Shauna leaning back against it in her jacket, and she sent you a quick wave. You wandered over, knocking your solo cups together and leaning with her.

“Not having fun?” you asked with a laugh.

“It’s definitely a party,” she replied, slinging a friendly arm around your shoulders. “Where’s Lottie?”

“This couple was having a giant fight in her kitchen, she’s calling them a ride.”

“Hm,” she hummed, looking out over the bonfire. “What about Jackie?”

“Her and Jeff ran off. I don’t even know where.” Shauna frowned. “Where’s Nat?” you asked, sending her a hopeful glance.

Shauna gave you a look. “You two are still on the outs, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“Well,” she said. You followed her gaze towards the other end of the fire, against a pine tree where an old, marble bench sat. It was somewhat obscured by passing people, but you saw through a gap in the crowd and your heart dropped out of your chest.

Nat was there, in a red plaid dress that hugged her body. Thrown over it was her leather jacket that she always wore. She looked beautiful. The way you had seen her in your dreams the night before. Until you saw that next to her was Bobby Farleigh, that was.

They were talking, leaned in together with alcohol in hand, and laughing. She had asked, when you started sleeping together, who else you had been with. You vividly remembered Bobby Farleigh being on the list, when you asked her the same question. He was a creep, and it made you sick just as it made you sick now. You stood up straighter.

“Yeah,” Shauna said. “Sorry.” You shook your head. Jealousy pooled in the pit of your stomach, but was normal for being ‘casual,’ right? Either way you didn’t like it. It was like a switch flipped in you. It didn’t matter how many people saw you or if they knew your parents. You couldn’t handle this.

“See you, Shauna,” you called back over your shoulder. You stormed towards the two of them on the bench with a glare, and you saw Nat look up at you coming over, watching you intently.

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you want?” She said. It was loud, and with it came the turning of heads. Next to her Bobby Farleigh hopped up to his feet.

“The fuck are you doing?” it came out harsher than you expected it to, deep from within, and you put your hands on your hips.

“Why the hell do you care, all of a sudden?” She challenged back as she too got to her feet. “I find that really, really funny.”

“We’re not talking about this here,” you said. “Come on.” You grabbed her arm, pulling her along with you.

“As if I’d go anywhere with you,” Nat scoffed, but she didn’t pull her hand from your grasp. She let you lead the way, up through the house. People parted like Moses and the Red Sea, watching you go, and though you knew there would probably be gossip about this on Monday, you were past caring.

You wandered into one of Lottie’s guest bedrooms, slamming the door behind you. You spun to Nat.

“What, do you need me to get you off again?” She asked, tone dripping with anger. “Did you pull me in here because you were bored?”

You had to ignore the question. “The fuck were you doing with Bobby Farleigh?”

“See and I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” Nat spat back at you. You scowled.

“Why the hell were you going to do that with him. He’s a bully and a creep,” you shot, crossing your arms.

“Y’know what, I don’t have to say anything to you. You made it perfectly fucking clear, we don’t owe each other anything.”

“It’s not even about me!”

Her mouth dropped open. “Oh it’s not, huh? No, you don’t have a problem with it being Bobby Farleigh— you could give a fuck about Bobby!” She was yelling now. “You give a shit because it’s not you, and you’re a jealous asshole.”

“So what if I am?!” You yelled back.

“Then I’d say you have no fucking right to be! You do NOT for one god damn second get to be mad I’m sleeping with other people when I hear you’re playing The Newlywed Game with rich chicks.” You didn’t know what to say to that and Nat took it in stride.

“You can do a lot of fucking things, you rich, entitled asshole,” she continued. “But you can’t pretend for shit that we were just fucking around.” You clenched your jaw. “And to think,” she scoffed and you could see the edges of her eyes water, “that I used to think you were safe and good. Now I see you for what you really are— a fucking child with a silver spoon.”

In your arguing, you both had moved closer together, faces inches apart. Her lips looked so soft in the dim lighting of the bedside lamps. You swallowed. She was so close, and there was again that scent of perfume and weed. But Nat backed up, storming past you and heading for the door.

You didn’t know who closed the distance first, but your hand was on her arm, tugging her back against you, and then your lips were against hers. Her taste was so sweet, the same lip balm as always. Cherries.

You pulled her tight against you, feeling her hands go up to your hair, weaving in. You pulled away for a breath for a moment and then immediately kissed her again, this one more needy and ferocious than before you. She tugged at your scalp and your hands flew to her thighs, pulling her up against you and holding tight.

Everything felt so damn humid in there, and you slowly backed Nat onto the bed, pushing her down and crawling on top of her. You leaned down to reconnect your lips and then immediately went south, moving her blonde hair away gently with your fingers and then covering her neck in soft kisses while you tugged her dress down.

Nat let out a heady breath. “(Y/n),” she said in a huff. Your hands grabbed hers, interlocking the fingers and moving them above her head while your mouth did the work for you, sucking on a spot right under her jaw and then slowly down her neck to the exposed area that only her hair could cover from her father.

Nat’s skin was always a cool pale colour, and you pulled away briefly to see the bruises already forming along her neck. You weren’t exactly being soft, but you knew Nat could take it, and that she wanted it. She was staring at you with heavy-lidded eyes, and you silently tugged off your shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room.

Her hands went to your pants, tugging them down, and you moved to get them out from under your legs before discarding them too. She went for your underwear next, watching you with her blue eyes as she moved, but you stopped her, catching her by the wrist and lifting it up to place a slow, gentle kiss on her open palm. You just wanted it to be Nat beneath you.

You slowly dragged your mouth up her arm while you held her gaze, leaving a trail of where it had been. Your other arm came up to cup her breast through her bra, and she let out a full on moan, face flushing pink.

You moved away from her arm and to her chest instead, nipping at her collarbone and sucking on the skin there. Her hands came up to cup your head, fingers weaving in the hair at your nape and brushing some back from your forehead as she let out another shaky breath. Your mouth trailed lower and lower, and Nat threw her head back as you continued to palm at her breasts through the fabric, her hand leaving your hair and scraping down your back with her nails. It hurt, sure, but not in a bad way. In a way that made you want her even more.

“Can I?” you asked, as she writhed beneath you. Your knee went to the space between her legs, feeling her wet, dripping centre on the outside of her underwear. She rubbed down on it, trying to relieve some of the friction and cried out.

“Need— need,” she struggled to focus with your hand on her breast and hot breath on her neck. “Need you,” she whimpered. Nat usually put up more of a struggle for dominance, and fucking was typically far more playful than the pure desire her face expressed. You didn't need to be told twice, taking your fingers and skirting the waistband to dip even lower. When you felt how soaked she was you sucked in a breath.

You pulled her underwear down in a single fluid motion, thumb swiping right over her clit. Nat shook against you with a moan, hand wrapping around your shoulder to hold you close and keep her stable. You started slowly, gently inserting your middle finger into her entrance, and Nat shuddered, leaning into you and holding you tight.

It was an awkward angle, but you never would've told her to move or let you go. It was the warmth you had been missing, and you watched her face scrunch as you slowly began to move your finger. Nat let out a breathy moan, nails digging into your shoulder, and you took the subtle note, adding a second finger.

She's ground down into your hand, clasping your wrist in encouragement, and soon you were moving quicker inside her entrance. Her legs shook with your movement, head thrown back and no longer able to look at you anymore as you fucked her down to your knuckles. You'd done this before, but you had a fire in your belly.

When her grip on your shoulders faltered and her hands fell to grip at the sheets, you took your other hand and gently rub it on her clit, thumbing the bundle of nerves in a way that has her loud. She sucks in breaths and moans, throwing back her head, and you listen to them with a smirk at how quickly she seems to be approaching release.

Your fingers pumped deep inside of her and she shook, and then she said your name. "(Y/n)," she breathed out.

"Hm?" you asked, adding extra pressure on her clit. She let out a gasp.

"I love you," she said, and though it caught you off guard, you did not slow down. She had said it before while fucking and so had you. "I love you," she repeated, and you could feel her body tensing.

"Uh...I love you," you said it back, continuing to fuck her with your fingers.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, Nat," you whispered.

"I love you!" she gasped again, and this time, you felt her body tense completely. Cum leaked out onto your fingers, coating them in her slick while she shook. You slow down your pace, watching her with more awe than you'd like to admit. She just looked so beautiful, splayed out like that and still gently shaking from time to time while she regained herself.

When you gently pulled your fingers from her centre, she shakes and whimpers with the lost sensation. You put your fingers to your lips and into your mouth. Nat tasted just as sweet as before, and your gaze softened at the girl in front of you just as her chest slows its heaving.

"Are you alive?" you asked, sitting up and grabbing your shirt from of the floor to tug it over your chest. She nods slowly, then opens her glossy, blown-out eyes. She's not awake for long, and it only takes a few minutes for her to be out like a light. She's still shaky and weak, but she sends you a smile before she falls asleep.

You don't know why you do it, but you gently lift her up and under the sheets of the bed, pulling the duvet over her. You'd probably have to reimburse Lottie for the dry cleaning. You don't know why you do it either, but after heading towards the door with a pile of clothes in hand, you decide to stay. You clamber into the sheets alongside her, resting your head on the pillow and watching her softly sleep until you fall asleep on your own.

You can't place exactly why it hurts you so much, when you wake up the next morning and realise Nat's no longer there.

THERE WILL BE A PART 3 COMING I PROMISE BUT THIS WAS SO LONG ALREADY. ANYWAYS, FINALE NEXT TIMEEEEEE

#natalie scatorccio x y/n #nat scatorccio #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio x you #yellowjackets

363 notes · View notes

eleni-cherie · 5 months ago

Text

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 0.7

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

30th December Barcelona, Spain

There was no trace of snow in the foreseeable time and Cassandra's already gloomy mood only dropped more as she averted her eyes from the grey buildings outside.

If it was cold, it should at least snow, she believed. But she knew something like this was impossible for a city right at the mediterranean sea. The only thing they got there was humidity and gusty winds.

It was the day before New Year's eve. The second-last day of the year. One day and eleven hours more and it'd be the next year already.

It was a strange feeling considering to her it didn't feel like a year had passed already. The only evidence it did being the coldness outside that had suddenly picked up in the last two weeks.

She returned to study a patient's file. Today would be another double-shift. Could be worse, at least she wasn't working the next two days.

After asking one of the nurses to give the patient 150mg codeine, she finished her round right on time for her lunch break. Already spotting Stella and one of the assistent surgeons and Stella's on-off-crush, Julio, sitting at a table in the far back of the cafeteria and bickering over something as usual. And Cassandra gave them a quick wave, signalising she'd seen and would join them, before going to pick her lunch. Her stomach was already rumbling when a different kind of buzzing caught her attention then. It was the phone in her pocket.

doc (6:30am): happy birthday, wherever you are :)

cool guy (1:12pm): you remembered! cool guy (1:12pm): thanks :P

Her lips instinctively curled up. It was Taehyung.

It had been a week since they'd last spoken, which wasn't surprising considering he had a different kind of busy life.

At least he took time to ressurface at all. Kind of like a penpal, where she had to wait for his letter to arrive and respond before having to wait yet again. Especially since they were indeed one-sided penpals with him sending her postcards from all the places he visited.

She was used to it, but that didn't mean she wasn't worrying a little whenever a longer period of time passed with no trace of him. Unpredictable things could always occur, despite him and his friends being unmatched in what they did.

doc (1:14pm): ofc i did :O

After typing in her quick reply, she shoved it back into her pocket when it started buzzing again. Perplexed by the unexpected incoming call, she hesitated for a moment before eventually accepting it.

"Hey."

She inhaled with a smile. Something about his smooth voice greeting her so cheerfully always making her a little weak.

"Hey, your timing's as great as ever," she giggled when the line moved and she took a step forward. Hearing his surprised 'Oh?'.

"To what do I owe the honour of this call?"

Taehyung could hear the smirk all the way through the line. Laughing under his breath.

"What do you mean? It's my birthday after all. So I deserve actually hearing your birthday wishes."

She bit back a laugh, having missed his silliness. "Happy birthday, cool guy. Was that all you called for?"

"Almost," he said, his tone turning gentle then,"I also wanted to hear how you were doing."

"Well, I.." she began but paused. 'Fine' was her first instinct, however, she concluded he'd most likely see through her blatant lie, because in all honestly she wasn't doing fine at all. So she settled for a more vague response. "..I'm a little tired. But otherwise everything's fine. How's it there?" She knew he'd never tell her where exactly in the world he was currently at, so she didn't even attempted to find out.

"It's.. yeah, it's great. We're working on something.." His voice faded then and Cassandra was about to carry the conversation to the turn of the year, when he spoke up again. His concerned tone taking her aback."You sure everything's fine?"

She swallowed. No matter how hard she tried, she'd always be an open book to him it seemed. Even when he was miles away.

No, she thought, nothing's fine. I almost lost a patient because of bureaucracy, almost messed up a chest tube on another one, haven't properly slept in days, I'm gonna spend the turn of the year all alone and I'm an idiot because I miss you.

She couldn't bring herself to let any of these words slip from her lips though. She didn't feel like making him feel bad and pity her when he was who-knew-where in the world right now and couldn't do anything for her misery anyway. Besides, she also didn't want to embarrass herself.

"Yeah, it's just, you know, work. It's not always that easy." This wasn't even a lie. But she felt he still wasn't completely sold on it.

"Hm, you sure that's all?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because work's always tough for you but you sound more distressed than usual."

She froze. Did she? She didn't even notice anymore, but others obviously did. Or at least, Taehyung did. So with a sigh she gave in, elaborating more after all. "It does take a toll on me. And tomorrow's New Year's eve, which I can't celebrate with my family and I have no plans, which could be regarded as sad and pitiful by some, but hey! At least I'm not working like some colleagues, so can't complain." Her casual laugh to gloss over her gloominess probably sounded forced. And she licked over her dry lips. "I just didn't want to dump everything on you.. I know you're busy with your own work." Another small giggle getting automatically added at the last words, another poor attempt to save her pride. "Anyway, it's also a shame you can't see your birthday gift, you know? It's pretty mad after all."

"A mad gift, huh?" He played along with her sudden change of topics. Although he could sense there was more to her previous words. "And what gift?"

The line moved and it was almost her turn at the registry, "Never heard of a surprise? You've got to wait until coming here again."

Taehyung scoffed playfully on the other line. "Oh, that's how it is?"

"Of course."

"Alright. I'll hurry up then, I guess."

»»»

31st December

Cassandra usually celebrated this day by playing cards and drinking with her family. Since it wasn't possible this year, she settled for eating a whole pizza by herself and watching one of her comfort shows. The perfect plan really.

It was past 10pm on New Year's Eve now and she was in the middle of her little rewatch party, when the sound of the door bell startled her and she paused the episode.

Cassandra didn't expect seeing anyone that night. Especially since there were barely any hours left till the turn of the year.

A knock at the front door followed then, causing her to tense up even more. She wasn't a particularly fearful or easily scared person. However, due to the late hour and randomness her first instinct was to switch off all lights and remain quiet. Only when an annoyed and whiny: "Cas, open up already! It's cold!" was heard from behind the entrance door, her tense muscles finally relaxed.

The last person she had expected seeing standing in front of her door was Taehyung and yet, there he was. Doing just that with furrowed brows and an amused laugh.

"Were you hiding from me?"

"Wh.. no. No. Well, yeah, but I didn't know it was you," she defended herself with a small pout.

His cheeks were slightly flushed and raven hair tousled due to the harsh wind outside, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his dark brown coat. He looked quite cuddly and inviting.

She instantly shook that thought away, though. Eyeing him suspiciously when also spotting the bare neck and open collar.

"And since when do you feel cold?" she sarcastically snorted then. A knowing smirk on her lips as she let him enter. Meeting his wide boyish grin.

"Maybe I fibbed a little there."

She laughed under her breath, shaking her head. "What are you even doing here? Thought you were working on a job."

"Well.." He let out an awkward laugh when a shiver crept up his skin. He might not freeze, but that didn't mean he wouldn't feel the coldness at all. Especially with the temperature difference inside there. "I don't know actually."

She took a step back to narrow her eyes at the taller man. A puzzled smile tucking on her lips as she tilted her head. "So did you just randomly come here all the way from wherevever you were?"

"It's just.." It sounded too silly, thinking about it now, but frankly, he simply had a feeling of her needing him. And he realised how completely irrational and odd it must sound if he said that out loud. So he stick with another excuse. "We were done with the job earlier than expected and wanted to take a little break, so.. might as well come to collect my birthday gift."

Cassandra blinked. Somehow she wasn't quite buying it. He never struck her as a guy who'd travel countries just for a simple gift. Especially since he should know it wasn't anything of value compared to the actual treasures they were hunting.

"Hope you don't have too high expectations of that gift, though," she mumbled with a coy smile as he followed her further inside, "Might get disappointed otherwise."

Taehyung shrugged with a cheerful, almost childlike grin. "A gift is a gift. I take what I get."

He observed her crunching down at other side of the living room to pick up a rather big square, wrapped in fancy paper, from her desk. She felt her fingers trembling all of a sudden, not having expected to see him this time around after all, so she hadn't had any time to mentally prepare to get embarrassed yet. And the few steps she walked back to him clearly weren't enough.

"It's nothing special, really. I mean, what do you get someone who can literally get anything he wants? But I hope it's not too terrible."

Cautiously, he accepted the object from her with a scowl. Her intention was to lower his expectations but all it did was hightening his curiosity, especially since he didn't have any clue what it could be. He'd appreciate it either way though, whatever it was.

"Happy belated birthday, Tae."

He tried not to rip the paper when opening it, but as it accidentally did, he gave up midway and just tore it off making Cassandra laugh amused at his childish eagerness. Only for her to bite down on her bottom lip and avoid his glance when he finally unwrapped it.

His expression softened, brown eyes grew round in astonishment.

"A painting." He looked up at her in awe. "You drew this?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, still not daring meeting his eyes. "You said you liked my drawings and.. you also said you'd like having one of yourself like, and I quote, 'one of these sleazy rich guys'," she added air-quotations for the dramatic effect. Her hands dropping to the side then. "I know considering you travel around from hideout to hideout, it's not practical, but.. I don't know, maybe if one day you do get that house of your own, you'll find some space for it."

He hummed, his eyes preoccupied with the painting in his hands.

The detailed strokes, the soft-coloured paint. He wondered when she'd even found time to create it in between of sleeping and working. What amazed him the most, however, was the expression on his painted face. The look in his eyes. It tucked on something in his heart, the way she captured this brief moment of tranquility in them. He wondered if anyone else had ever noticed this kind of expression on him when not even he himself had.

That painting was how her eyes saw him. The way she saw him. And it was beautiful. It touched him how someone could see him like this. So.. human. Not a thief. Not a gunman. Just him.

He swallowed. His silent gaze wandered back to her then, catching her impatiently peeking at him as he was taking quite some time to silently gape at the present, increasing her insecurity about it.

He didn't understand why she was belittling herself so much when she didn't have to make him a gift in the first place.

"Thank you, Cassandra," he breathed eventually. His voice unintentionally cracked at the end as it came out hoarser than expected. She had almost missed it, so quiet that it was. But when she realised, her eyes slowly met his already smiling ones and all the nervousness she had felt before was suddenly swept away when seeing the sincerity in his face. He meant it.

She gave him a small nod in acknowledgment.

"Say.." he said then, taking another glance of the painting in his hands, "You said no plans tonight, right?"

»»»

"Should you not avoid such crowded spaces?" Cassandra yelled over the loud background chatter of half-drunks. One of them bumping into her shoulder, his red glittery party hat slipping from his head and almost poking her cheek.

Spending the final hour of the year at platja del Somorrostro, one of Barcelona's busiest beaches, surrounded by a New Year's crowd of strangers brimming the entire area wasn't where she had expected to find herself at.

And all because of Taehyung.

His dark waves peeked out from between a couple of people in front of her, him clearly not hearing her nor noticing her absence beside him and she squeezed herself through to reach for his sleeve not to lose sight of him again. He paused when feeling the tug and looked over his shoulder, catching Cassandra puffing out her cheeks. "Hey, wait for me!" she pouted and he laughed.

"Sorry, did you say anything?"

"Yeah, I asked if you shouldn't be avoiding such crowds."

They pushed through the mess and Taehyung made space for her to follow behind him as he navigated them to a low pavement wall, seperating the sand from the street.

They reached the uplifted sea promenade soon and he climbed onto it when spotting a gap between some chatty teenagers. Holding his hand out for her which she accepted, letting him pull her up.

"More the opposite," he clarified then as he let his eyes wander over the sea of funny party hats, chaplets and woolen beanies. He could bearly spot where the actual sea began and where the crowd ended. His eyes then returned to her with a cheeky grin. "The more people, the easier it is to get lost in the shuffle."

Cassandra could only smirk at this. "I assume that's your go-to tactic at heists as well?"

"Hm, maybe. Who knows," he reciprocated her smirk. Knowing exactly how riled up it'd get her whenever he stayed vague and not providing more info. He simply enjoyed teasing her too much to ever let go of it, besides the obvious benefits of her not knowing any details for her own safety.

To be fair, this New Year's Eve was also quite different from what he'd originally planned for it to look like. The original plan foresaw him and the guys to sneak into a yacht party at the coast of Alexandria - something he wouldn't tell her though.

Partially because he didn't want her to ask why he was missing it out, partially because he couldn't let her know any details.

Furthermore, he'd never been a man of big parties and celebrations anyway, everything always seeming shallow and blown-out-of-proportion to him. And that sense only intensified when sneaking into some fancy party to steal idiots' jewelery and money. So in a way, he also did it for himself and not only for her. Besides, if he acknowledged the influence she had on him to just ditch anything at the mere feeling of her needing him, he'd need to apologise to Jimin for all the times Taehyung had scolded him for doing the same exact thing for Arabella.

"I hope we can see the fireworks from here."

Her words interrupted his train of thoughts and he watched her tiptoeing beside him before setting her heels back down and taking a sip from the mojito bottle she'd bought at a convenience store earlier. Cheeks already rosy from the alcohol in her system due to being a light-weight.

He took a swing from his own bottle of red wine. "Don't worry, we got a clear sight up here."

Cassandra hummed, getting tired of standing she decided to sit down on the cold stone next to a woman with a blue wig. Wrapping her arms tightly around her angled legs and bringing them close to her body. The midnight air making her shiver under her coat.

"Oh!" she exclaimed then, holding her phone up.

He narrowed his eyes at the dim display. The clock said six more minutes to midnight. He glanced at his wrist then, making sure his watch said the same. It was precise after all, something necessary when doing a coup. And indeed, six more minutes.

Explained why people around them became more jittery.

"Do you have any New Year's resolution?"

He mused for a moment over her question. Flashing her a grin then. "Not getting caught. You?"

The red-head lightly laughed at this before shaking her head. "No, don't think I got any."

"Huh, didn't expect that," he blurted out and felt her inquiring eyes on him.

"Yeah? Why not?"

He shrugged. For a moment he contemplated how to phrase his disbelief, licking his lips shortly which had become dry in the low temperature. "You striked me like the kind of person who'd have a whole list of resolutions to be honest. That's all."

Cassandra blinked, taken aback as she indeed used to always have some kind of resolutions while growing up and this might've been the first time she didn't. Perhaps she was more obvious than she liked to admit after all. A dry laugh left her lips then.

"Well, I used to -"

"Knew it," he grinned triumphatically and took another sip from his drink, "What happened?"

"Nothing. I just realised none of my wishes or resolutions ever came true. So I stopped."

Four more minutes.

"But if you would have to do any, what would it be?"

She took a moment to genuinely think about it and hummed while doing so. Only obvious ones popping up in her mind. "I guess.. to successfully complete this training year, not lose my mind in the hospital and.." Her eyes lowered and she paused, smiling to herself in a sheepish manner. "The last one is a secret."

His brows arched, but he didn't press considering it must be private.

He looked down at his watch again.

Two minutes.

Somewhere in the distance behind them someone had already started blaring firecrackers. The loud cracking roaring over the drunk slurring, yells and chatter of the people scattered around them on the sea promenade. As far as the eye could see, streets were completely filled with people choosing spending the turn of the year outside among strangers in the cold. Most didn't seem to mind, Cassandra being the only one shivering.

And Taehyung noticed, scooting closer to her in a poor attempt to shield her body from the wind which had pushed its way through after all.

It was quite unfair, she pouted to herself when leaning into Taehyung's shoulder, how she, with her onion-layers of clothes, thick coat, scarf and beanie, was still freezing while he was out there with nothing but a sweater and a thin coat doing just fine.

"Thirty seconds," he announced when looking at his watch again.

Cassandra tilted her head to take a glance as well. "Twenty."

He sensed her warm breath brushing over his exposed skin. The pink-tinted tip of her nose and cheeks contrasting her pale skin which was faintly glowing under the yellowish streetlamp's light further away.

Everyone around them began counting down at the top of their lungs then.

"Ten!"

"Nine!"

"Eight!"

Taehyung searched her eyes, seeing she was already smiling at him. And they held each other's gaze while continuing counting down with the crowd.

"Seven!"

"Six!"

Their smiles widened.

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

Fireworks errupted from the main square in the distance, splashes of colorful lights painting the black sky and illuminating the crowd with loud popping sound of explosives. The hooting party horns and cheers from the crowd jarred into a deafening wave and everyone fell into each other's arms.

And yet, despite the commotion by the boisterous mass of people, all Cassandra could see was the curve of Taehyung's bright smile. Losing herself in the glittering sparkles in his irises. Just for that moment, it felt as if it was only the two of them there.

"Happy New Year, Cassandra"

"Happy New Year, Taehyung."

They laughed lightly, breaking eye-contact and instead decided to watch the rest of the elaborate fireworks show and its golden rain when some odd - to him at least - customs caught his attention then. "Why're so many people kissing or eating grapes?"

Cassandra tore her eyes from the colourful shapes to briefly glance at him, redirecting them to the night sky again. "New year's traditions. People eat twelve grapes for each month for good luck. Or kiss to save themselves from a year of loneliness."

He seemed intrigued by this. "Are there more?"

"Not sure, I don't believe in this superstitions."

He huffed a laugh at her bolt claim. "Says the girl who bought a lucky charm to a heist with her."

Gasping, she averted her eyes from the fireworks again only to face his shit-eating grin. "T-that's something different. It was my emotional support!"

Taehyung only arched a brow, continuing giving her a doubtful look. Much to her annoyance. "No, I mean it. I don't believe in these New Year's traditions. Or at least I try not to but, who knows.." A rueful smile ghosting over her lips. ".. maybe that's why none of my New Year's wishes ever comes true."

Taehyung looked at her indeciphable expression before looking back at the firework.

"What about you?" She assumed to already know his answer but she was still prying to know.

"I'm superstitious. A little bit at least."

She smiled softly, somehow not being surprised at all. "Oh yeah?"

"I need to, sometimes it's a matter of luck. Especially in what we do." He threw his head back in gleeful joy as another set of fireworks was fired. A cheeky smirk gracing his lips then. "And don't they say luck and timing is everything you need?"

She agreed. Even in medicine where everything was scientific and empirist, they still often had to rely on luck and hope. When it came to a therapy or medication to work or when the surgeons needed to wear their own lucky charms to boost their confidence and succeed in a difficult surgery. But it also depended heavily on the patients themselves, if they believed in it or not.

She laughed under her breath. It was a laugh of self-pity as she felt she neither had luck nor timing. At least not in the way she wanted to. And she emptied her bottle in a swing. A feeling of fizziness and light-headness overtaking her mind.

"You know what?" she blurted out after a short while and giggled highly bemused, "We should kiss for good luck!"

Usually she'd know despite the bubbling feelings for her criminal friend, which she still tried convincing herself didn't exist, that kissing him while being tipsy probably wasn't a good start for anything. But any rationality was clearly last seen 0.5l of mojito mix prior, the very few enzymes she apparently had to break down alcohol, already saturated awhile ago. So her intoxicated mind simply found that sudden idea marvelous and entertaining. She'd never get a proper kiss from him anyway - or any guy in the forseeable future with her work schedules - might as well make him her platonic and amicable New Year's kiss in a desperate attempt for any kind of good luck for that upcoming year.

Taehyung, however, only chuckled when seeing her flushed red cheeks and the empty bottle. Not taking her random request seriously until he saw her face turning into an offended sulk. Bottom lip sticking out. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah, it's the tradition!" she pouted, "I don't want a year of loneliness. So you gotta kiss me!" She had an adorable, almost naive giggle decorating her puffy lips. And for a second his eyes lingered on them before eventually shaking his head.

"I don't think -"

"Then don't think," she grinned. "Let's just do this. Just a quick peck."

"Okay, fine," he dragged a sigh, surprised at himself for giving in so quickly when he and Yoongi always accused Jimin of getting easily wrapped around pretty women's fingers. "O-only 'cause I really don't want you to end up a lonely cat-lady though."

Rolling her eyes, she puffed out a snort. "Thank you. That'd be very kind of you!"

She turned her body fully towards him then, head getting dizzy at her abrupt movement.

Why was he even considering this? Oh yeah, to do her a favour.

Emptying his own small bottle of wine, he also shifted in his seat before taking a brief look around them.

Kissing in public usually wasn't his style, but this could hardly be considered public as they were practically unnoticable in the amount of people around them. And besides, there'd been several others, whether friends or couples, who had exchanged pecks at the stroke of midnight.

So he exhaled and placed his hands on her arms, holding her in place so she wouldn't accidentally lose her balance as she was already swaying with a silly smile.

"Alright."

"Mhh, do it."

"I-I'm doing it."

"Fine, then do it."

His skin felt on fire. He shouldn't have drunk that much. He might not be a light-weight like her, but he wasn't a big drinker either.

"Just kiss me already," she began whining impatiently, wiggling under his grip. A couple of loose curls falling from the side and framing her face while doing so. "Or I'll be a bigger loner than I already am."

He frowned with a snort. "That's emotional blackmail," he deadpanned then in an attempt to distract from his irrational nervousness.

But Cassandra immediately paused staring at him wide-eyed as if someone had slapped her and she only now realised where she was and what she was doing.

With an awkward laugh, her eyes fell to the space between them. Perhaps the buzz was beginning to wear off or it was a moment of clarity, but she realised it was pointless if she had to force him. Perhaps that would even give her bad luck in the end. And she already had enough of that.

She shook her head, embarrassed of her tipsy self. "Y-you're right. Forget it. It's a stupid tradition anyway. Can't remember the last time I kissed anyone on New Year's."

His brows furrowed at her sudden change of mind. "No, it's fine. I'm gonna do it."

"No, seriously. We don't have to," she ensured him, her words muffled from her woolen scarf as she tried burying her face in it. Cursing herself from minutes ago for even speaking out that rash nonsense.

However, Taehyung's grip around her upper arms only tightened. Making her grow stiff under his stare.

"I said I would and I keep my word." His voice was calm yet determined, which surprised him considering his hesitation and she dragged a breath, straightening herself under his hands.

Was it weird that she didn't feel nervous despite it all? Probably. She blamed her low cogitation and the knowledge it wouldn't have any romantic significance anyway. Just friends following a tradition like many others around them.

"Fine, let's go."

He swallowed as he met her warm orbs. And he began fidgeting all over again. "Alright, okay, great. That's what I'm gonna do."

"All right."

His hands left her arms, instead placing themselves around her delicate neck and caging her velvety curls in his palms. A light shiver ran down her spine and she wasn't sure if it was the coldness of his fingers or the warmth of his touch. It was firm yet tender and she sensed her pulse picking up in rate with each passing second.

"Okay, ready?"

Cassandra only nodded, unable to speak all of a sudden. Maybe she wasn't drunk enough to stop her feelings and thoughts taking over her senses after all.

Her eyes flicked to his heart-shaped lips before making the stupid mistake of glancing back at him and meeting his eyes. His face was open and vulnerable in the streetlamps and fireworks above them and she caught a hint of wonder on it as they stared at each other. Slowly, he began leaning closer. And she swallowed down the tiny gasp that dared escaping her lips.

"One, two.." He paused then, scowling at himself. "No, wait. I'm not actually gonna count down."

"O-okay."

"That's not my style when I kiss."

"Okay."

"I don't count d-"

"Tae, it's fine," Cassandra giggled, interrupting his ramble. She'd never seen him ramble before. Was he.. flustered? She'd always imagined him kissing lots of women in disguise. Even if he always claimed not even Jimin, the actual flirtatious among them, did that.

The thumbs on her cheek gently brushed the stray strands aside then. His eyes shifting to hers again. The last fireworks sparkled in them and for a moment his heart forgot how to beat.

"R-ready?"

"Yeah," she breathed.

He closed his eyes, his face coming close. A deep crease set between his brows then, making his face look rather angry for a kiss. And her tipsy mind ultimately lost focus upon that hilarious realisation.

"What's this face!" she bursted out laughing, unable to contain herself and he backed off, irritated about her laughing fit.

"W-what face?"

"You can't make that face when you try kissing someone," she choked out in between of laughs while pointing at him.

"Oh, so you say something's wrong with my face now?" Taehyung only scoffed, somehow glad about the interruption though. He wondered if his fingers were actually shaking or if it was from the vibrations of her laughter.

"No, idiot! You're handsome and you know it!"

Startled at the unexpected compliment, a timid smirk tucked on his lips at her drunm words. His chest warming despite him downplaying the muddled feeling that was raising. "Oh, so you think I'm handsome now?"

She groaned in annoyance, lightly hitting his chest over the coat. "Don't pretend."

"So, do you want me to kiss you or not?" His teasing smirk returning.

"Maybe if you didn't make that face."

"That's very nice of you considering I'm doing you a favor here," he laughed under his breath. Not remembering any woman having ever made him laugh so much despite complimenting and confusing him at the same time.

Cassandra inhaled and exhaled deeply, calming himself again somehow. "Alright, let's do this already. No big deal," she nodded to herself, sternly, "Just kiss me."

"Nope."

She gasped at his evil grin. "You were about to, though!"

Taehyung only shrugged unimpressed and abruptly let go of her. "Yeah, before you bruised my ego," he retorted simply, causing her to huff.

"C'mon," she nudged his arm, "I'm sorry. I promise I won't laugh again."

"Apology accepted. But I'm not gonna kiss you." His lopsided smirk torturous, making her frustration grow.

"You're making such a big deal out of it, just kiss me already!"

"I'm not gonna kiss you!"

"Kiss me!"

"No! Not like this!"

Cassandra paused. Her parted lips, ready to counter something back in their bickering, abruptly pressed together into a thin line when processing his last words. She stared at his now bewildered face when he also realised what he had just unintentionally confessed.

"What?" she blinked confused, "What does that mean?"

Taehyung's eyes were wide, panic clouding his mind. "No. No-nothing. I just, I didn't mean it like that," he began with a terrible stutter the longer he looked at her inquiring eyes.

It didn't make sense. He was always capable of staying cool-headed even in stressful situation. It was inevitable in heists and when being in diguise. Then why did he totally blank out with the way her warm bambi eyes were digging daggers into his as the seconds passed. "I just, I mean we can't like that because that's not - it's very - like, you don't.. That's not what -"

But Cassandra didn't even seem to be listening anymore, staring absendmindedly up at the sky instead, being clearly still tipsy and all over the place - he could tell.

Taehyung stilled then. The beanie was pulled to her brows, scarf hiding half her face. Only her round eyes peeked out, holding a lovely innocent wonder in them.

It was irrational. It was scary. How it was more thrilling celebrating with her and cheap wine from a 24/7 store at the beach, than being in an expensive smoking on a yacht surrounded by millionairs while drinking the most expensive champagne.

Cassandra abruptly shook herself out of her short abstraction then and flashed him a smile.

"Come, let's leave or you wanna get hypothermia?" She was joking, but he noticed her anew shivering and he realised she must still be cold.

"Y-yeah, let's go."

»»»

The new year was only a couple of hours old. Quite early to go home for most, but Cassandra felt exhausted despite having completely sobered up by now. Much to her own dismay, she wasn't the night owl she'd used to be anymore.

The air felt colder when she turned into her street. The way home taking longer than expected due to what it seemed half of the city being out on the streets and traffic jams everywhere. Lines of cars, impatiently honking and only moving for a few centimetres before having to stop again.

Taehyung followed behind her, wanting to fetch his gift before leaving the city again. It wasn't unusual for him to only stay for a day there before having to move again, but somehow she'd hoped he'd stay longer.

The night breeze hit his warm cheeks as they reached the front door and she fumbled with the keys in the dark. Eventually finding the right one and unlocking the door, allowing them both to enter.

The painting was on the coffee table where he'd left it. He picked it up, examining it one more time in silence before tucking it under his arm and heading back to where she was in the hallway. Still busy taking off her shoes and jacket.

"Thanks again for this," he smiled gently and watched her lowering the beanie, ruffling through her curls to give them some of their lost volume back. "I'll make sure to store it in a save place." His voice was almost a whisper when he attempted to open the door, only to sense her tugging at his coat.

"Wait, I-" She pursed her lips, gaze falling as she saw his questioning glance. "I wanted to say thank you for spending the turn of the year with me.. I appreciate you coming all the way here so I wouldn't be lonely tonight."

His lips parted, taken aback. Had it been so obvious after all? However, he chose to pretend being confused and not knowing what she meant instead. "Who says that was my reason?"

Cassandra shrugged, lips curling into a rueful smile. "Maybe I just wished it was.. Whatever it was, still thank you. And I'm sorry."

Taehyung frowned. Gaze falling as well. "No need to apologise," he muttered, instinctively knowing what she was referring to. He swallowed then, shoving his free hand into his pocket.

In retrospective, it hadn't been such a big deal and yet, he was glad he hadn't proceeded to kiss her like that. He knew he'd have regretted in the long run.

"I feel like it, though," Cassandra continued then with a sigh, "I feel so stupid. I shouldn't have insisted on keeping a tradition. Especially since I don't even believe in supersticious stuff."

He eyed her with a doubtful look, making her roll her eyes and sigh in defeat.

"Fine, I do. Sometimes. Some stuff. Not all."

He chuckled lightly making her smile.

Truth was, Cassandra was disappointed in herself for getting so weak and desperate, putting him in such a position and creating this awkward tension between them.

"Tae, you didn't have to kiss me." She felt like she needed to underline this. Her voice small and filled with guilt and shame. "Please, don't feel bad."

"I know, don't worry," he reassured before they grew quiet.

In times like this she really disliked his withdrawn and secretive personality. Usually his aloof and coy aura intrigued her, but right now she needed him to speak to her. And the fact he didn't, made her fidgety.

They stood there for a second longer.

Faint music was echoing from somewhere in the building while the piercing sound of lonely firecrackers was heard from the streets.

"Well, okay good then.. goodnight. And Happy New Year again." She tried sounding cheerful, masking her regret of screwing things over in her irrational state.

She wouldn't see him again for an indefinite period and that was how they'd be parting ways now. She hated herself from two hours ago.

Dragging out a breath, she reached for the door handle to let him out when a grip on her elbow prevented her from doing so.

Taehyung grabbed her arm and in a swift move, pulled Cassandra into his chest. Strong arms catching her, wrapping around her smaller figure and before she could even properly react, his lips had already engulfed hers.

That was it. All the self-control she'd exerted over the past months went straight out the window in that moment. Her neurological system completely shutting down by the overload of neurotransmitters, hormones and endorphines, simply swiping her mind blank with the only remaining thought being how incredible his warm lips felt against hers.

Her arms instinctively found their way around his neck to pull him even closer. Feeling the cold metal of his necklace against her fingertips. And she kissed him back fiercely, Taehyung wounding his hands more into her long hair at this. It curled around his fingers, silky and fluffy and for a moment he lost any sense of time or his surroundings when all he could feel was the vibration of her skin against his and the bewitching rum-lime taste of her lips full of unspoken feelings and endless promises.

Their lips moved, molding, melting into one another. Whatever logic and reason there had been, had long gone away. There was nothing left but their intertwined lips and breaths.

Eventually, they slipped from each other after what felt like an eternity but could have only been a minute. Panting against each other.

Their eyes remained closed, not daring opening and letting that moment ending in smoke so soon. Taehyung rested his dazed forehead against hers and leaned in. Planting one last kiss on her lips, this time less heated but rather tender and mellow. Savioring the last bit of the sour-tasting liquor mixed with his sweet wine. And Cassandra leaned into him more before they let go of each other at last.

Her eyes fluttered open immediately, dark lashes lining against her pale skin in a state of surreal haze. He wasn't sure if she'd ever looked more beautiful as in that moment, right after he'd kissed her and he felt the urge to do it again at this sight.

"I meant something like that."

With that, he stepped back and picked up the painting from where he'd set it on the ground. Brushing past her. And he left without saying anything else.

Cassandra stood there in the empty hallway, stunned. Everything around her was spinning and she feared she was intoxicated all over again.

Her fingers slowly rose then to touch her numb lips. Ensuring they were still there. Along with the lasting sense of Taehyung's touch.

Her New Year's wish had finally come true.

»»»

next chapter: 0.8 here

Don't forget to like, comment & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

taglist: @lilanyxta @naoolammao345 @memna234 @tetehion @myblacklilame

45 notes · View notes

verdemoun · 2 months ago

Note

Kieran could be seen as a representation of society being held back in its progression by outlaws.

Kieran, who holds himself with honour and seeks redemption from his criminal past which, keep in mind was forced upon him by outlaws, is forbidden the opportunity for a better life by the Van Der Lindes, who refuse to look beyond his past and treat him as a member of society, and the O’Driscolls, who condemn him for it.

Thank you exactly this is top tier interpretation. Because of course in RDR it's usually the law that brings an end to the character's path to redemption, or they are able to redeem themselves only for the law to suddenly appear in the form of Pinkertons or Edgar Ross to remind them they may have found redemption within themselves but the crimes they've committed are still unpaid for; but the VDLs have the exact same ideals when it comes to Kieran. He takes them to Six Point, he saves Arthur's life, he tends to the horses and tells people how psychologically devastating it was working for Colm, how terrified he was and still is - proving how helpless he was in the situation - but they still refuse to let the past crime of having been forced to ride with the O'Driscolls go. Like damn maybe the moral of the story is finding peace and redemption within yourself because there will always be external forces that won't see you as anything more than your worst mistakes and darkest moments.

But this is where I need to kick down R*'s door because we know Kieran rode with another gang before the O'Driscolls. He fell in with some outlaws who got killed before he fell in with the O'Driscolls, who he only rode with because of the choice ride or die. Did the O'Driscolls wipe out his previous gang?? Did he willingly join the previous gang he fell in with?? Was he a gunman or still just a stable boy doing what he could to survive?? Did they die and fall apart the way most gangs did, or were they notorious enough to be hunted?? Was he alone when the O'Driscolls cornered him?? Would he have willingly gone with them even without the choice to ride or die because he knew surviving on his own was impossible?? Or was he still with his previous gang when the O'Driscolls found him?? Did Kieran get the choice ride or die just because he's Irish, or did he have some sort of reputation or skills that Colm thought would be useful?? Was he always a high honor blorbo or does he actually have a past to atone for other than simply riding for the O'Driscolls??

#kieran duffy

14 notes · View notes

mariana-oconnor · 1 year ago

Text

Charles Augustus Milverton pt 2

We return to The Worst.

“You would not call me a marrying man, Watson?” “No, indeed!” “You’ll be interested to hear that I am engaged.” “My dear fellow! I congrat—” “To Milverton’s housemaid.”

Holmes.

Holmes... did you...

Did you fucking seduce some poor woman just to get information?

“But the girl, Holmes?”

Thank you, Watson!

“You can’t help it, my dear Watson. You must play your cards as best you can when such a stake is on the table. However, I rejoice to say that I have a hated rival who will certainly cut me out the instant that my back is turned."

There's that, I supposed. But I am disappoint.

I did not remember this part of the story.

I seemed to see every possible result of such an action—the detection, the capture, the honoured career ending in irreparable failure and disgrace, my friend himself lying at the mercy of the odious Milverton.

You're acting like this is the first burglary he's committed, Watson. This isn't even the hundredth burglary he's committed.

Though I do appreciate this glimpse into Watson's anxiety.

“Yes,” I said; “it is morally justifiable so long as our object is to take no articles save those which are used for an illegal purpose.”

Watson ponders the nature of ethics and morality and contemplates the justness of the justice system.

A case of two wrongs making a right?

"Between ourselves, Watson, it’s a sporting duel between this fellow Milverton and me. He had, as you saw, the best of the first exchanges; but my self-respect and my reputation are concerned to fight it to a finish.”

Holmes: I can take him. Let me at him. I can take him!

Watson: Only if I come, too!

Holmes: NO! You might get arrested.

Watson: I feel like there are some double standards here.

"You know, Watson, I don’t mind confessing to you that I have always had an idea that I would have made a highly efficient criminal."

We know, Holmes. You talk about it all the time. One of your favourite things to say is 'if I were a criminal, I would be very good at it.' In the last story you told a police officer all about how you sort of wanted to be a burglar... and in fact are a burglar because you keep burgling places.

This is not a secret! It is the opposite of a secret! You would tell someone that you kind of want to be a criminal if you just happened to be standing behind them in a queue!

I'm surprised you don't introduce yourself as 'Sherlock Holmes, private detective, which is a good thing because I've always been convinced I would make an excellent criminal.'

Literally no one is surprised that you have a state-of-the-art burglary kit lying around.

And no one is surprised that Watson will make the masks.

"On the other hand, like all these stout, little men who do themselves well, he is a plethoric sleeper. Agatha—that’s my FIANCEE—says it is a joke in the servants’ hall that it’s impossible to wake the master."

I see no reason for this capitalisation other than Holmes shouting the word like he wants the world to know.

This is so weird.

The place was locked, but Holmes removed a circle of glass and turned the key from the inside.

He's not even picking the lock, he's literally cutting holes in the windows.

He seized my hand in the darkness and led me swiftly past banks of shrubs which brushed against our faces. Holmes had remarkable powers, carefully cultivated, of seeing in the dark. Still holding my hand in one of his he opened a door, and I was vaguely conscious that we had entered a large room in which a cigar had been smoked not long before.

Hand-holding and B&E, the perfect date!

We were in Milverton’s study, and a PORTIERE at the farther side showed the entrance to his bedroom.

Ooooh, it was capitalised because fiance is a french word... okay then. Sure. We'll go with that.

My first feeling of fear had passed away, and I thrilled now with a keener zest than I had ever enjoyed when we were the defenders of the law instead of its defiers. The high object of our mission, the consciousness that it was unselfish and chivalrous, the villainous character of our opponent, all added to the sporting interest of the adventure. Far from feeling guilty, I rejoiced and exulted in our dangers.

Watson:

With a glow of admiration I watched Holmes unrolling his case of instruments and choosing his tool with the calm, scientific accuracy of a surgeon who performs a delicate operation.

Too late.

I understood the joy which it gave him to be confronted with this green and gold monster, the dragon which held in its maw the reputations of many fair ladies.

Wow. This imagery is intense. Holmes playing on Watson's chivalric instincts really went deep, huh? A dragon with ladies' reputations in its maw. Watson's out there fancying himself a modern-day St George, I guess.

Then the footsteps continued backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, within a few yards of us. Finally, there was a creak from a chair, and the footsteps ceased. Then a key clicked in a lock and I heard the rustle of papers.

Dun dun duuuuuuuuun

Cliffhanger time.

Now, I do think I remember what happens next. But still. Who has come into the room? Will Holmes and Watson be discovered and their career change into crime be cut off before it can truly flourish? Will Watson ever get over this simultaneous hit to both his competency kink and his chivalry kink? We may never know.

#Letters from Watson #Charles Augustus Milverton #Sherlock Holmes #long post

31 notes · View notes

st-kitten · 1 year ago

Text

“you’re lucky I like you”

MIGUEL O’HARA x THIEF READER warnings: none, fluff, soft miguel, cute miguel words: 2,705

He shouldn't have kept you around. Miguel was no fool—even if you mistook him for one. He should have brought you to the police, but you both knew he wouldn't.

“What did you do this time?” he asked, feigning annoyance. He had known why. Miguel had wanted to hear her say she wanted him, though. She had been like an addiction. He had kept coming back knowing it wasn't good for him. No matter how much he had tried to stop, it had been futile. He was hooked.

“Wow, you’re perpetually annoyed, aren’t you?”

“Perpetually annoyed, and not ashamed of it,” Miguel replied, crossing his arms, “Especially after dealing with idiots like you for the past year.”

He didn’t break eye contact with the criminal before him.

“Drama queen much? If I annoy you that much, why’d you come? Why not send someone else?” You say.

“I would be the last one to admit to such bullshit,” he growled, “I’m an adult. I have responsibilities. One of those responsibilities is putting criminals like you in the hands of the police where they belong.”

But he couldn’t help his mind from wandering. He’d done this countless times with her, and yet, he still hadn’t managed to capture her. It wasn’t normal. It was impossible. And Miguel hated impossible. Just thinking about it irritated him.

“So, where’s the police? Or have you got some other ideas?” You asked, smirking.

His heart skipped a beat. Miguel stared at the woman before him, at the taunting, sultry smirk on her lips. If looks could kill, that woman would’ve been dead the very first time he laid eyes upon her.

“You know I’m not gonna take you to the police yet,” Miguel said, not taking his eyes off her. “So I guess you know what that means.”

“How could I know what it means? I’m just an idiot…” you said, pretending to be dumbfounded.

Miguel couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that. The stupid criminal before him wasn’t nearly as stupid as she wanted to make herself sound. He could read her like a book. “Don’t play stupid”, he said matter-of-factly, “It doesn’t suit you.”

“Oh, come on, can’t a girl play around a little?”

“Not when your ‘playing around’ results in innocent lives being lost,” Miguel countered, staring her down. “It’s a miracle you haven’t killed anyone yet.”

“You’re welcome!” You said with a playful glint in your eye.

“Oh, so I’m supposed to thank you for not killing more people than you already have?” Miguel snapped back. “That’s rich.” He rolled his eyes sarcastically. This girl had some nerve…

You shrugged. “So, if we’re not going to the police, can we at least go and have a bite to eat? I’m ravenous…”

He was stunned for a few seconds. Not only was he taken aback by that remark, he’d never actually heard a criminal say something like that before, let alone to him. “Are you for real right now?” Miguel asked, “Like actually.” His eyes narrowed, a curious look on his face. He was getting mixed messages from this woman.

“Yes, I’m for real right now. Aren’t you hungry too, from all the chasing around and catching bad people?”

He paused for a moment or two, thinking about it for just about the first time in his life. As much as he hated to admit it, he WAS a little hungry. Plus, it’d give him a good excuse to keep her near him at all times.

“Fine,” he relented, “But I’m not paying.”

“Well, I’m the rich one…as you said…”

“Rich? You’re a criminal,” Miguel reminded, “Any money you can get your hands on was earned unlawfully.” He put his hands on his hips, staring her down, daring her to say something back. They’d had this argument before.

“I’m not arguing with you on an empty stomach. Now, will you please come with me? There’s a nice Mexican place around here.”

He let out a sigh, defeated, “Fine”, Miguel replied, “Only this time.” He couldn’t help but think he’d been baited right into her little game. He knew she was laughing at him in her mind, mocking his pride and his honour.

They both walked into the Mexican diner. He picked a seat in the far corner and they both sat down. The lights from the window peeked in and illuminated their faces.

“You ever tried a burrito?”

He looked at her curiously. “You’re seriously asking me right now if I’ve ever tried a burrito?” Miguel asked, letting out his best mocking chuckle of the night, “I’m Hispanic. I practically live on beans and rice.”

He smirked. “I think I can handle a burrito,” he said, clearly teasing her back.

“Let’s see it. Order the spiciest burrito you can find.” You suggested.

Miguel frowned at her request. “The spiciest?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Now, he liked spicy food as much as the next guy, but the spiciest? The spiciest the Mexican restaurant could make? What was she trying to prove? “Alright, sure,” he shrugged, “If you think I’m such a scaredy-cat.”

“Never said so…”

When it arrived, Miguel took a huge bite of the burrito, all while staring her down. His face contorted in disgust as he tried to chew it down. He grimaced, tried to hold back a cough. His eyes watered, his nose started running, and all the color drained from his face. “Holy…” Miguel sputtered, grabbing his glass. “That thing is hotter than the fires of hell. Where the hell did you bring me?!”

You smirked, effortlessly eating your spicy burrito. Not a single sign of discomfort on your face.

“Only the best Mexican diner in the city.”

“You ate that thing easily,” Miguel said, through the pain and tears in his eyes, “Like it’s nothing.” He was flabbergasted. No wonder they’d never caught her—she’d melt their faces right off with the flame from that food alone.

“It is nothing! If it were up to me, I’d put some more chillies and peppers in it.”

“You’re insane, you know that?” Miguel asked, finally calming down. “Not even my grandma could eat that thing with a straight face, and she ate jalapeños for breakfast!”

“So do I! What a coincidence!” you said sarcastically.

“You’re just as crazy as she was,” Miguel sighed. He knew it for sure. “You really enjoy setting me up, don’t you?” he asked, laughing a little, “I fall for it every time, and you know it.” He shook his head.

Taking a sip of his ice cold glass of water, Miguel stared at the criminal with a smile. “Not that I mind.”

“You’re fun. You make the chase interesting. And… I like seeing you every now and then.”

“So you like seeing me suffer? Is that it?” Miguel asked, a smirk growing on his face. “Or maybe you like watching me get so heated and frustrated.” He put his arms on the table and leaned in. “Maybe you like seeing me like this.” His eyes flashed a teasing gleam as a tiny smirk overtook his lips.

“Oh I do like what I’m seeing…” You said with a grin.

“Hey now, careful with those eyes,” Miguel replied playfully, putting a finger to them, “Or you might just take my breath away.” The look in her eyes made his heart skip a beat. She had this certain way about her that was, to put it simply: irresistible.

“Well, you’re still breathing, so we’re good. Would you like to share some ice cream?”

“That sounds like a great offer right about now”, Miguel admitted, “I suppose I’d love to. You got a sweet tooth or something?” He asked, tilting his head. He’d never thought to ever hear that come from a criminal before. It made him smile.

“I have a spice tooth. You shouldn’t be surprised if I find a place that sells spicy ice cream…” you say jokingly.

“You are one cruel human being,” Miguel commented lightly, “How dare you suggest such a thing?” His mouth curled into a grin as he took the suggestion one step further.

“Tell you what, take some jalapeños from these leftovers and let’s put it in whatever ice cream we eat.”

“Ay, dios mío.” Miguel sighed, already dreading the idea of the monstrosity of a sweet and spicy treat that his companion was suggesting. “I don’t like the way you think.”

The way this girl thought worried Miguel. He wasn’t too sure if he should be more amused or more scared.

You find an ice cream parlour and order a variety of ice creams, hiding small slices of jalapeños in them, not knowing when you might bite them

“Okay, your turn,” you said.

Miguel took a massive spoonful of his ice cream, and as he bit into it…it was as spicy as he though it’d be! “Jesus Christ…” he exclaimed, his face contorting and making an expression of pure shock.

“Was this your plan the entire time?” He asked, chuckling a little, although clearly out of pain. He had to hand it to the girl…she was evil…in a cute way.

“Tell me you’re not having fun right now…”

He had to admit it…this girl was a force to be reckoned with, and it took a lot to admit that. “I guess…I guess I kind of am,” Miguel admitted sheepishly, feeling his chest tighten the more he spoke. It wasn’t often that the man let his guard down.

“Not that I’m enjoying the spice,” he clarified, “But I’m enjoying this strange yet…intriguing dynamic we’ve got going on.” He smiled, looking at her with a twinkle in his eye.

“That’s the spirit. What do you say we take this to go and walk around the city? I can show the places I’ve robbed so far…” you said jokingly, but innocently.

“Ah, we going for a stroll now, I see,” Miguel said, “Sure, why not? As long as you promise to not steal anymore.” At this comment, he knew full well what the girl’s answer would be. He smirked, knowing she’d never stop being a criminal. But it was all in good fun. He knew he couldn’t help but crack a small smile.

You pay the ice cream vendor and Miguel wonders where all that cash came from.

Her wealth confused him to no end. When he was first tasked with capturing you, he’d always assumed you wasn’t that successful. But looking at all that cash, it seemed that assumption couldn’t have been more wrong. Now he really couldn’t help but wonder what he was getting himself into.

As you walked out of the ice cream parlor, Miguel couldn’t help but ask, “I don’t suppose you came by this money legally, did you?”

That’s up to you, I guess…” you said handing him his own wallet, that you’d picked earlier.

It dawned on him and he patted his pockets. “Argh, diablita, tenías que robarme la cartera, no?”

“Hey, you said you’re not paying, so I had to… somehow…” You shrugged innocently.

Miguel couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, then a full blown laugh. She was so sneaky, that girl. She could rob an entire bank and not leave the slightest trail behind. But this? This was…just low. “You could’ve stolen money from the bank,” he pointed out, as they began to walk again, “Not the person trying to stop you.”

“Where’s the fun in that? You know how much I love seeing you flustered…” you said nudging his arm. He jolted at the contact, but didn’t pull away.

“I do know you’re enjoying this,” Miguel huffed, “It’s like some sick game for you, right? You enjoy getting me riled up and annoyed, and I’m just sitting here letting it happen.” He shook his head. She was right…it was all just a game to her.

“Game or not, I do like you better than most policemen who come after me.”

He was caught off guard by the statement, but it was definitely a big compliment if he’d ever heard one. “Now that, you have to explain,” Miguel replied, walking by the side of the girl and looking down at her. “What’s not to hate about me, hmm?”

He was curious as to what made her like him so much. Sure, they had amazing banter, but was that really all it took to like someone?

“You’re sincere, Miguel. You put your best in your work and you mean well. I hate to take advantage of it, but I don’t mean to hurt you. I just love the thrill of it. What’s not to like about you? Have you met you? You’re fucking awesome”

He felt his face warm at the words. No one had ever spoken that highly of him, and to know it was the criminal he had been tasked to catch was oddly flattering. It made him want to be better—to put in twice as much work in order to show her that he could be good if he tried.

“Wow. You really mean it, don’t you? You actually think I’m…good?” He cleared his throat, looking at his own feet before back at her.

“Oh, my, are you blushing? Adorable. I like you even more now.”

“You—“ Miguel stuttered, feeling his face heat up even more as she teased him. He’d lost his composure in just an instant.

“Alright, alright, enough of those kinds of compliments,” he spoke lightly, “Let’s save that for later, alright? How about you focus on being a better criminal for the moment?”

“And how do I do that? Steal your heart or something?” You wiggled you eyebrows.

Miguel laughed at the comment. “As if you haven’t done that already,” he replied, half whispering.

He shook his head. “For now, I think your criminal activity should be kept to just stealing from the rich,” he said, his smirk growing, “There’s a line between stealing and causing harm…and you know that.”

“Alright… I can do that. But then I’d miss having you chase me to catch me.”

“Is that a challenge? Because let me tell you, I can play the long game, cariño,” Miguel challenged, turning his head to lock eyes with her. “I’m not giving up. Not now. Not ever.” He raised a brow. “You just wait until I finally catch you.”

“It won’t be easy,” you said, slightly leaning forward.

“I know it won’t…” Miguel huffed, rolling his eyes in a playful manner, “You’re incredibly elusive for just one person.” He smirked.

“But I promise that when you’re finally arrested, it’ll be worth it. Because you’ll be in prison for eternity. Maybe by then, you’ll have learned your lesson.” He smirked, a confident twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, but then you’d miss me… The streets would be no fun without me.”

He thought for a moment. He knew what she had said was true—if he ever managed to catch her. As much as he was trying to capture her and put her behind bars, something in him would miss her and those dangerous stunts she pulled and the criminal activity she got up to. Not to mention the fact he’d actually begin to miss the chase, too.

“Alright, I’ll give you that one, thief,” he sighed, “You’re right…the streets would be no fun without you.”

“That’s my boy.” You said as you leaned forward to peck Miguel’s cheek softly.

His heart was a mess now—he couldn’t focus on a single sentence. All he could see was her—the playful smirk she always wore, her rich brown eyes, her soft yet strong hands, her silky hair that flew like waves at the ends. He could lose himself in her appearance.

“You’re lucky I like you,” he responded softly, “Because if I didn’t…”

His voice trailed off and he didn’t finish his sentence.

You looked at him intently and your lips hovered over his. “… hell would break loose… wouldn’t it?”

The close proximity was driving him crazy. He was losing control, little by little, with every passing moment. It wasn’t long before he was leaning in, his lips meeting hers. He’d kissed her. He’d finally kissed her.

If he was falling for her before, he was plummeting at this point—and he was falling hard.

#fluff #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #soft Miguel #thief reader #multiverse #burrito boy #ice cream girl

42 notes · View notes

riding-palominos-every-day · 2 years ago

Note

How about Jojo and/or Kenny for the character ask game? (The one where you list your favorite/least favorite thing about them, favorite quote, etc.)

Ough yesss two (2) of my boys!!

JoJo

Favourite thing about them: He's such a silly guy, I love him

Least favourite thing about them: I wish he had a few more lines, especially in UKsies bc half of them got given to other characters😔

Favourite line: "A solid gold watch with a chain to twirl it!" Not that he gets to say that anymore-

BrOTP: Him and Elmer. They are best friends your honour :] I think they became newsies roughly around the same time, so they learnt how to sell together

OTP: Don't really have one

NOTP: None

Random headcanon: He's been a newsie for a few years, but only recently moved out of the church and into the lodging house. He's still wrapping his head around having to pay to live somewhere

unpopular opinion: If considering him the most religious newsie is unpopular, then we'll go with that

favourite picture of them:

Kenny

Favourite thing about them: His potential. The biggest plus of characters with few lines and no trading card means you get to interpret them however you like!

Least favourite thing about them: He is criminally underused😭 No lines and barely ever onstage even when Darcy isn't there

Favourite line: ...

BrOTP: I don't have any evidence for it but I choose to think he gets on with Smalls and Sniper

OTP: None

NOTP: None

Random headcanon: He was also raised in a church like JoJo, but treated much, much worse. He's vehemently anti-religion as a result

unpopular opinion: Given that nobody seems to have opinions on him I think it's impossible to have unpopular opinions skdkksd

favourite picture of them: (this is literally the only photo of him I can find-)

#thanks for the ask emmy!#newsies #newsies headcanons #asks #ask game

3 notes · View notes

if-you-fan-a-fire · 2 years ago

Text

"Stern Sentences Are Imposed Upon Criminals by Court," Hamilton Spectator. May 21, 1943. Page 7 & 11. --- STREET RAILWAY ROBBERS GET LONG PRISON TERMS ---- Impossible To Be Lenient, Judge Lazier Points Out --- PUNISH TORONTO MEN ---- Conforti Pleads For His Companion in Crime ---- Sentences ranging from 18 months in the reformatory to seven years in Kingston penitentiary were passed on six men convicted on various charges during the county criminal court sessions last week, when they appeared before His Honour Judge E. F. Lazier this morning.

Pleads For Companion A plea for his partner in crime was made by Joseph Conforti, [top picture] on behalf of John Sutherland, in which he asked that Sutherland be given a suspended sentence. Both men are from Toronto.

"If Sutherland is sent to the reformatory he'll come out a thief," Conforti said. He added, "That's where I got my experience and once your record is started it comes up every time a man makes a move. If he (Sutherland) is not given a chance now he'll end up like me."

On his own behalf Conforti said he had tried several times to get in the army but that each time his "record" had caught up with him. His Honour, however, said that he did not feel that a suspended sentence in the case of Sutherland could be considered and sentenced him to 18 months definite and six months indefinite in the reformatory, Conforti was sentenced to three years in Kingston penitentiary.

The two men were convicted on three charges arising out of the breaking and entering premises of Christopher Sacks service station, possession of burglary tools and receiving and retaining an auto known to have been stolen on April 20. Street Railway Theft The longest sentence passed by the court was imposed against Alexander Boyko, [second from top] who was charged jointly with Roy Clairmont of having, on April 19, robbed John Walker of approximately $3,000 cash and $1,000 car tickets, the property of the Hamilton Street Railway Company. In passing sentence of seven years in the Kingston penitentiary against Boyko, His Honour said that in view of the seriousness of the offence he was "bound to punish you severely." Clairmont, 18 years, was sentenced to five years in Kingston penitentiary on the same charge. Reminding the court that life imprisonment with whipping was the maximum sentence that could be imposed on such charges, Harvey McCulloch, crown attorney, said that although Clairmont was "young in years" he was "old so far as criminal experience is concerned."

Long Record Convicted on charges of theft, Nicholas Freel [second from bottom] was sentenced to three years in Kingston penitentiary when he appeared for sentence this morning. In passing sentence His Honour commented on the long record of the accused with dates from 1928 and which records 12 sentences, "You must be put where you cannot be a menace to the community for a while," His Honour said.

Two years in Kingston penitentiary was the sentence imposed on Robert L. Harrison, [bottom picture] convicted of the theft of a motor car on May 7. Harrison, who was undefended at his trial, asked for the leniency of the court and said "I knew if I kept on drinking this would happen."

[AL: Conforti appealed his sentence, which was dismissed in July 1943. He was also sentenced in Toronto on similar charges. He had served a previous term in Kingston penitentiary, having been released in 1939. he also served three prior terms in the reformatory. He was a motor mechanic at the service station they robbed. He was 27, single, and an Italian Canadian. He was convict #7431 this time around at Kingston, and worked in the laundry, mailbags and kitchen - he had several reports on his name for misbehaviour. He was released in January 1946. Sutherland also appealed and had his sentence reduced to a reformatory term. Boyko was 22, born in 1919, of Ukrainian descent, a construction worker with only a single previous term in reformatory. He was also tried in St. Catharines on simiiar charges. He was convict #7370 at Kingston Penitentiary, and worked in the mailbags. In March 1944, he was transferred along with dozens of other inmates to Saskatchewan Penitentiary, where he was convict #4295. He was involved in a short lived but serious strike at Saskatewan Penitentiary in August 1944. He was eventually released on parole in 1949.

Clairmont was convict #7371 at Kingston penitentiary and worked in a young convict gang. He was paroled in 1946. Freel was 42, married, with six kids, and was unemployed at time of conviction. He had been in the penitentiary once before, released in mid-1942, and had also been locked up in the Barton jail in Hamilton. He was convict #7321 this time around, worked mostly in excavation and construction outside the walls, and was implicated in a trafficking ring but was never formally charged. He was released October 1945. Harrison was 3, a salesman for a magazine company, single, and a life long Hamiltonian. He was also a bad drinker, and this was definitely at the root of his two previous convictions at the reformatory. He was convict #7313 at Kingston penitentiary, and worked in the change room. He was transferred August 1943 to the low-security Collin's Bay Penitentiary, and was released from there in January 1945.]

#hamilton #police court #breaking and entering #burglars' tools #carrying stolen goods #robbery with violence #hamilton street railways #public transit #theft #car theft #car thieves #stolen car #without legal representation #sentenced to the penitentiary #kingston penitentiary #canada during world war 2 #crime and punishment in canada #history of crime and punishment in canada #long criminal record

0 notes

justmoreocs-writing · 1 year ago

Photo

Darkened alleyways were a staple of the city. No place for anyone to wander alone, least of all in the middle of the night. And yet, that was exactly what A.J. was doing. High above, shining brightly silver through clouds and the constant smog of the city, the moon acted as her compass point. As long as it stayed in sight, she knew there was a way back should she need it. Knew that she hadn’t strayed too far into the darkness of the city’s underbelly.

Movement out the corner of her eye set off every internal alarm A.J. had trained herself to listen to. Still, she wasn’t quick enough. An arm pinned her own to her sides, forced her back flush against the chest of her assailant. The cold sting of metal against her throat was an unnecessary yet habitual threat.

‘The Labyrinth ain’t a place for a nice young lady to be walking alone,’ a voice whispered.

‘Good thing I ain’t a nice young lady then, isn’t it?’ A.J. countered, shifting ever so slightly. A saccharine smile slipped easily onto her face when her attacker was in view, however limited.

No matter how many people were scared of William Yates, renowned criminal king of the back alleys, he would always be Billy to her. Her friend who told her stories of highwaymen and pirates when she couldn’t sleep. The boy who had helped her fight off her own nightmares, as if that might help stop his own from creeping up on him.

The knife was removed in an instant, the arm across holding her close lingered though. ‘Amy, I’m serious.’

A.J. quickly stepped away from Billy. In the dim light of the alley it was still easy to see how blond his hair was from a day in the sun; a day pretending he wasn’t the young man so many were afraid of. In the light of day, he was just another person living his life. Even this late, it was possible to make out the blue of his eyes as they skittered across her face, checking for signs of distress. His expression, usually a mask of cold indifference that was occasionally more threatening than any violence, was that of grave concern.

‘So am I,’ she assured him. ‘Or do you forget who trained me?’ She cocked her head to one side, noticed him flinch ever so slightly. Everyone knew Bruce. It was impossible not to, and the reminder of her tutor in all things self-preservation was not one he needed. ‘Anyway, who’d do anything if I threw your hat into the ring?’

Billy groaned, slipped his knife safely back into the sheath on his hip. Still, his eyes were watchful around the back alleys, taking in everything. ‘Pretty sure my name alone doesn’t stop a knife in the back.’

‘But they’d feel really bad about it.’

‘Amy,’ he complained, but she heaved a sigh; held her hands up in mock surrender.

‘All right,’ she conceded. ‘Next time I want to see my best friend, I’ll leave a message with your secretary. How’s Ramsey doing?’

A soft scoff, a little of the tension having ebbed away from the line of Billy’s shoulders, was enough to assure her she’d gauged the situation right.

‘You know, getting a secretary wouldn’t be so bad,’ Billy said, nodding briefly down the alleyway, allowing her to walk a little ahead of him. ‘They’d be able to get rid of people I didn’t want to see, right?’

‘You can do that all by yourself,’ she teased, glancing back at him knowingly. But, before he could even attempt to defend his criminal honour, she turned her attention to the lighter in her pocket. ‘You’re not too busy to go for a walk with your friend, are you?’

‘For you Amy, never,’ he assured her, moving to walk a little closer to her side, all the while giving her the space she needed. And she needed this now more than before. Needed to be with someone simple, someone who understood. Because despite everything Billy was that for her. Someone that she didn’t have to act around, and she hoped she was that kind of respite for him, too.

#Repost #Made By Me #Drabble #Nightwing OCs #The Making of a Hero #Amelia Jane Kane #William Yates #A.J. Kane #Billy Yates #A.J. Kane & Billy Yates

0 notes

cowboylikeyouu · 4 months ago

Text

i said i'd relate it to marvel, not just poolverine, right??? great let's go:

anti-hero is so overplayed it's hard to think about it as an actual song with lyrics and not just the radio hit that plays every single fucking time i'm doing the dishes at work lmao, but ever since i first listened to it so many parts just scream tony stark to me, like c'mon. his workaholic ass basically invented "midnights become my afternoon"

but especially both the pre-choruses are sooo tony coded, like yeah sweetie, you most definitely end up in crises. and "I wake up screaming from dreaming one day i'll watch as you're leaving 'cause you got tired of my scheming (for the last time)"?????? can't convince me that wasn't written about pepperony.

alright, moving on: mastermind

that one's hard bc i've seen like 2000 edits to the bridge lmao

"no one wanted to play with me as a little kid / so i've been scheming like a criminal ever since / to make them love me and make it seem effortless / this is the first time i felt the need to confess / and i swear i'm only cryptic and machiavellian 'cause i care"

you could literally apply this to any slightly morally-grey character with childhood trauma ever lmao, but i think the most obvious marvel choice just has to be loki (only talking about the bridge)

with a bit of fantasy the entire thing is kinda cherik coded as well, yeah.

2nd verse is natasha, i'm not gonna elaborate.

i think my fav one is relating the entire thing to wanda in wandavision tho, like she literally is THE mastermind, NOTHING was accidental, it really was ALL her design, she's the "wind in our free flowing sails and the liquor in our cocktails" bc she's literally the entire fucking town, like come ONNNNN

anyway, on to fortnight:

kind of a reach bc this isn't entirely canon but i never said it had to be lolololol:

stony. STONY STONY STONY.

hear me out on this one okay:

pepper & tony broke up at some point prior civil war right? my stony shipping ass likes to imagine that steve and tony had a fuckbuddies-thing going after the breakup, that obviously wasn't just a fuckbuddies thing bc they're in love your honour. this was obviously going on longer than a fortnight, but that doesn't matter, the term fortnight is just metaphorical okay 🙄 anyways, then civil war happens and they obviously "break up" and steve runs away with bucky, and that's where fortnight (the song) is set:

"I was supposed to be sent away But they forgot to come and get me I was a functioning alcoholic 'Til nobody noticed my new aesthetic"

did you really think taylor could open a song with a reference to alcohol abuse without me relating it tony immediately? bc that's basically impossible.

"All of this to say I hope you're okay But you're the reason And no one here's to blame But what about your quiet treason?"

the treason in question? definitely not the whole socovia accords thing, nobody was quiet about that, no, in my little stony headcanon universe the quiet (& much worse) betrayal for tony personally was the fact that steve chose bucky over him. if you like stucky, you can interpret it as him choosing bucky romantically, but you don't really have to.

the chorus doesn't fit into that narrative entirely bc there wasn't any "run into you sometimes" until endgame, but we could just understand this as tony sometimes hearing about steve from someone else who's maybe in contact from him, but never from steve directly.

"your wife waters flowers / i wanna kill her"

more like "your wife (bucky) shepherds goats in wakanda / i wanna kill her" lmao. i personally really don't like stucky, but even if they aren't a thing, it makes sense for tony to be fucking jealous, so yeah. lol.

"All my mornings are Mondays stuck in an endless February I took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary And I love you, it's ruining my life (I love you, it's ruining my life) I touched you for only a fortnight (I touched you) but I touched you"

nothing to explain i think, it just makes fucking sense. tony's love for steve ruined his life during civil war and continues to do so after bc isn't it the fucking worst to be so angry at the person you love so much, while they're not even talking to you??

anyways, yap yap yap they repeat those lines a million times, and then, AND THEN:

"Thought of callin' ya, but you won't pick up 'Nother fortnight lost in America Move to Florida, buy the car you want But it won't start up 'til you touch, touch, touch me Thought of calling ya, but you won't pick up 'Nother fortnight lost in America Move to Florida, buy the car you want But it won't start up 'til I touch, touch, touch you"

i think this is the point where i should remind y'all that this song is feature with post malone and that he sings some earlier lines together with taylor AND that he sings the first part of this outro, like THATS STEVE SINGING BACK AT TONY AHHHHHH.

okay, the "thought of calling ya" is obviously referring to the phone steve gave tony that neither of them ever called, like THE PHONE WORKS BOTH WAYS YOU STUPID ANGRY GAYS.

"'nother fortnight lost in america" *cough* lost in CAPTAIN america *cough* *cough* bottom!steve supremacy *cough* *cough*

"move to florida... etc." aka steve being on the run and tony getting back together with pepper yap yap yap but they won't ever feel really alive unless they touch each other again boo fucking hoo.

hope you're satisfied, this was so fun, literally my favorite activity ever, everyone send me songsssss!!

*cough* poolverine *cough*

13 notes · View notes

undiscovered-horizon · 2 years ago

Text

Imagine Matt "saving" you from a guy at the bar.

[tw: pushy guy, mild verbal harassment(?)]

"I'll grab another round," you offer after drinking the last sip of your beer.

"Need a hand?" Foggy offers while aiming with the cue stick. He was always ready to help with anything and you didn't have to ponder how come his friendship with Matt lasted for so many years. Franklin Nelson was one of those people you can't not be friends with once you get to know them.

"I'm good," you answered and left for the bar.

Even though it was a Wednesday night, the venue was filled with people but only some of them looked like they had day jobs. Despite the bad reputation of Hell's Kitchen, nothing about the bar's patrons indicated they were holding a green card for the demimonde. The rougher those assumed criminals looked, the less they were interested in the white-collar guests. Maybe only in places with a monopoly on strong alcohol those two worlds can coexist.

You noticed some guy staring in your direction, leaning on the counter, but it was a bar, after all - it's hard to look anywhere without your gaze landing on someone. The bartender struggled to keep up with the orders, putting one bottle of beer in front of you after every other drink she made. Perhaps because the four of you were regulars, she figured that you can wait a little longer without leaving a bad review on Yelp.

"I'm gonna have to arrest you, miss," a stranger next to you said with seriousness in his voice.

What a bizarre way to make conversation, you thought. Turning around you were met with a quite average-looking man. He had longish blond hair, strong features and was wearing a leather jacket. There was a tear-shaped, red scar under his left eye. His eyes were drilling into your face as if he was trying to see through you. A shiver run down your spine but not one of the pleasant ones. Unocniously, you crossed arms on your chest, trying to put something between you and the man. He was standing sideway to the bar, on your left, blocking off your path toward the front door should you wish to leave.

"Excuse me?" you asked him. To some degree, you wished you had misheard.

"You're too beautiful," he answered with a self-assured grin. It seemed as if he wasn't comprehending the possibility of rejection. For a moment you wonder whether he was aware of just how off-putting his mannerism was.

You clenched your jaw and barely stopped an irritated sigh from leaving your mouth. Just don't escalate this, you thought to yourself.

"Thank you," you answered indifferently and turned away from him.

"You know, I never expected such an eye-candy to be spending her night in Hell's Kitchen's pub."

Looking at him again, you didn't answer right away. His statement, with a quite obvious offensive undertone, left you baffled. You thought to yourself that it was nearly impossible for someone to be that way on purpose. The man's haunting stare never left your gaze, sometimes failing at sneakily looking at your body. The stranger must have misinterpreted your silence as interest because he kept on talking:

"Would the lady mind if I bought her a drink?" he asked. "I'll tell you about the scar and you tell me why a beauty like you goes to run-down pubs."

"Thanks but no. I'm not interested." Although it's only a short moment, you notice him clench his jaw.

"Come on, I'm a nice guy. Scout's honour."

"Look, my friends are wai-..."

"Don't be a killjoy, sunshine," the man interrupted you. He tried to brush away your hair but you flinched away before his fingers could touch your face.

You were about to open your mouth to give him a last polite warning when you felt a hand sneak around your waist, shamelessly sliding down to your hip. The feeling of slightly coarse cheap cotton and musky cologne left you no doubts about your saviour.

"You've been gone for a while," Matt said without acknowledging the stranger. "You doing alright?" He softly kisses the corner of your mouth and you can't help but blush a little. It's hard to believe that so much time has passed and Matt was still capable of bringing that school girl crush out of you.

"Yeah, it's just a really busy night, see?" you answered and vaguely pointed to the mob of people along the counter.

"Yes, pretty busy," he said absentmindedly. "Sorry, did I interrupt you guys?"

"No, I was just about to come back to you."

The stranger didn't offer a handshake like most people do. You couldn't be sure whether he had realized that Matt was blind or simply wanted to be rude. For a moment, neither of them said anything. In your mind, you were already imagining a fistfight about to break out.

Assuming that the stranger had nothing else to say, Matt started pulling you away from the bar. The odd encounter, however, couldn't end without one more exchange of less than welcome comments:

"With a girl like her, you better get a double-barrel, man."

You felt his grip on your hip tighten, although you weren't sure if it was intentional. Matt wasted no time answering, his tone nothing short of challenging:

"I'm doing just fine bare-handed."

With one hand on your back and the other holding two bottles by their necks, Matt gently pushed you through the crew, listening to the angered heartbeat of the unknown blond man.

"What was the line of the day?"

Unmistakenly, you heard amusement in Matt's voice. Sometimes you thought that, maybe, he likes to be the envy of other men. Perhaps it filled him with some unknown to you sense of pride - that no matter how suave a stranger can be, it was still him taking you home.

"Apparently I have to be arrested because I'm too beautiful."

Matt chuckled at first but then slightly nodded his head in agreement.

"It's a lost case, the jury will surely find you guilty." You laughed at his words, admiring how natural it was for him to flirt with you.

Whenever Matt got all smooth and nonchalant, you quietly wondered whether he knew that he didn't have to do it; you had eyes only for him in the most embarrassing cliche way. It was, however, a lovely thought to entertain - that he wanted to still chase after your heart.

Because of the noise intrinsic to a bar's sole existence, Foggy and Karen couldn't hear your conversation until the two of you reached the pool table and so your friends were victims only to your very last, only half-joking, sentence:

"Would you like me handcuffed, mister attorney, sir?"

Karen coughed suddenly but Franklin seemed to be greatly unaffected at the less than unambiguous words. The blond man was focused on aiming the cue ball, although didn't take a shot before commenting on the question they had just heard.

"The day you two got together was the day I started to hate romance."

803 notes · View notes

dyns33 · 3 years ago

Text

The Moms

So I’m posting it but this is awful

"Sensei."

"Kid, for the last time, just because Red talks about the old bastard saying 'sensei' doesn't mean you have to call me that. I'm giving you advice and some techniques so you won't get hurt, but the others are helping too."

"Okay. But, Sensei, are Daredevil and the Punisher together ?"

Y/N looked at Peter for a long time. With their mask on, the spider couldn't see their expression, but he started to sulk when Y/N burst out laughing, clutching their bellies at how funny they thought it was.

Red and Frank. Together.

Nah.

Impossible.

Not that Y/N would find it wrong. The two idiots who sometimes helped them could use some relaxation, and someone to rely on.

But they weren't necessarily right for each other.

Frank was a criminal. But, like, a real criminal, who had killed a lot of people. Not nice people of course, but the code of honour of the vigilantes and heroes of the city specifies that one should not kill. Y/N never killed. Neither did Peter.

Poor Frank however had extenuating circumstances with his past. Sometimes it was hard to think straight when you wanted revenge and suffered post traumatic stress from the war. But he was kind to animals, especially dogs. And with kids. He was nice to Peter.

For that, Y/N had decided to give him a chance, they didn't try to stop him, without helping him either, and sometimes simply telling him that he could be nicer with the criminals.

Red was... Red.

It was hard to describe Red.

He was a tall guy with a ridiculous suit who was growling a lot.

Not a bad fellow, but a bit boring.

He wasn't talkative, or only when he wanted to give big moral lessons. Especially to Frank. But he had done it to everyone, at least once.

No, Spider Man, you're too young to fight, go home. No Deadpool, you're a mad killer, you're not welcome in Hell's Kitchen, go rot in hell. No Y/N I don't team up, I work better alone, go bother someone else.

Well, that hadn't really worked out, since Red was willing to teach Peter how to control his heightened senses, Wade was always hanging around, and Frank and Y/N sometimes worked with him.

But Daredevil often sighed when they were around. Little asshole. But not the worst.

When Red and Frank were on the same roof, it was always the same. Either they pretended to ignore each other, or they insulted each other. Like two teenage girls with a crush but refusing to admit it and not knowing how to flirt properly.

Maybe the young spider was right, there was something.

"Is that why you call them 'Mom' ?" Y/N asked, trying to stop laughing, to not upset Peter too much.

"No. A bit ? They treat me like a baby, but I know Mister Punisher finds it amusing. Mostly because it annoys Mister Daredevil. You're a 'Mom' sometimes too, Sensei."

"Watch out, kid, or your next workout is going to hurt a lot."

"Okay Mom."

"Run."

It was Peter's turn to snicker as Y/N tried to catch up to him across town. Even though they were fast, it wasn't possible to catch Spiderman.

The next morning, Y/N groaned as they got out of bed, all their muscles aching, but they had to go to work.

Their little job as a waiter barely paid the rent, but with their activities at night, they hadn't had time to find anything better yet. One day, later.

It wasn't so bad anyway. It was simple, and they met nice people.

Like Karen, Foggy and Matt. The heroic neighbourhood lawyers, who never refused to help anyone. Y/N liked them, they were their favourite customers. And according to Foggy, they were their favourite waiter. At least, Matt's favourite.

"Matty here is very picky, and he says your coffee is the best in town. I don't really feel any difference from the other coffees, but it's good."

"Thank you Matty." Y/N purred.

"Matt, please." Matt begged as he swung his cane at his friend. "And it's true, even if your palate isn't developed enough to scent it, the coffee here is much better than anywhere else, and Y/N brews it the best of all the waiters."

Matty kept blushing and smiling nervously as he was talking. It was cute. He too needed to relax. Y/N wouldn't mind giving him a hand.

Sometimes, although he obviously couldn't see, the lawyer seemed to follow them around the cafe, watching him intently. Weird. But exciting.

Men, women, it didn't really matter for Y/N, as long as they were attractive, interesting and nice.

Hard to know if Red and Frank thought the same thing.

From what Y/N understood, Frank only had his wife, who had been tragically murdered. They had heard of another girl, for whom the little Punisher had felt things, but it was not certain.

And Red. Y/N knew nothing at all about Red's love life. Again, there had been rumours. A certain Elektra, who was dead now. But nothing else.

Yeah, both really needed to get laid. Not necessarily with each other, if they didn't like guys, but at least with someone. Y/N were curious, they wanted to know.

"What do you think of Frank ?"

"About ? Why ? Did he do something ?"

"Relax, Red. No, he's been very good. I mean, how do you find him ? Physically ?"

"...Hell I know. In good shape ?"

"Not your type then ?"

"... What ?!"

Well, Daredevil was already starting to growl and they hadn't even talked about the delicate subject yet. But Red wasn't stupid, he probably guessed where this discussion was going. Putting himself in a defensive position, ready to flee, Red got angry on his own, while Y/N admired his cheeks turning as red as his costume. He was embarrassed. Cute.

They asked the same question to Frank who almost choked before asking them if they had lost their fucking minds.

"No, Red, he... He's too... He's an altar boy !"

"A what ?"

"He's too pure. Stupid. Kind. Idiot. Desperate !"

It wasn't really a no. Those were the adjectives a teenage girl in love would use to talk about her crush anyway. They could work with that.

The following weeks, as soon as they were all reunited, with the help of Peter, Y/N launched small remarks, to try to bring closer the two imbeciles. It worked, a little.

Red was obviously still uncomfortable, but he wasn't running away. After all, he was supposed to be the man without fear.

Frank was embarrassed too, but he was laughing and making fun of the Devil.

It was fun to watch them dancing around each other.

It would have been even cooler to be able to participate, but Y/N knew it was a bad idea. When he didn't need backup, or wasn't there to lend a hand, Red seemed to avoid them.

Frank had never seemed interested.

During daytime, at work, Y/N was having a good time with Matt. Anyway, chatting with Matt as they served him his favourite coffee. He was awesome, this Matt.

"Today, dear Y/N, we're going to need lots and lots of coffee !" Foggy said as he sat down at the counter.

"Oh ? Trouble ?"

"Tough business. Matt is nervous."

"I'm not nervous."

"He's very nervous. He hasn't slept in two days, although you can't see it with his glasses. It's worse than during the Castle case, you really need to rest, buddy."

"Castle ? Frank Castle ?"

As Foggy replied that yes, he meant the Punisher, whom they had defended during his trial, Matt's expression changed. He was more serious. Concentrated. His eyes fixed on Y/N, at least on their chest, his head tilted slightly to the side.

Weird. Red was doing that too, often.

"Do you know Castle ?" the lawyer asked, in a voice that seemed to imply that he already knew the answer.

"A bit. We see each other sometimes. He's not that bad."

"Hmm. He's dangerous, Y/N. Be careful."

This voice. That little growl. That mouth, that face. This moral lesson.

Shit. Red. Matt was Red. Shit.

That was why all the stupid vision jokes Frank made when they were on a mission. Y/N had never understood them. It was because Red was fucking blind !

Even though they didn't know much about Daredevil, Y/N knew he could hear hearts. He must have guessed, or at least suspected, who they were. And now Matt knew that they knew.

Awk-ward.

"I will think about it." they decided to respond by giving them their coffee before going to the kitchen, as far as possible.

They avoided the patrols the following nights. But Y/N knew they weren't going to be able to avoid the Devil for long. He had their name anyway, he could easily find out where they lived. Which he did.

Coming with Frank.

Because against all odds, Red had spoken to Frank. Great. And what about respect for the secret identity ?

"We need to talk."

"Nah Red. That's cool. I didn't mean to find out, and I'm not going to tell anyone, not even Peter. Well, Frankie already knows, but we won't talk about it either, I understand."

"I meant, about what you've been doing for a while."

"What ?"

"Don't pretend you don't know." sighed the Punisher.

Ah. That.

Well, at least they had noticed. Not that Y/N had tried to be discreet, otherwise it would have been useless.

"So I take it you don't like each other. Anyway, not more than friends, with no benefit. Well, maybe not friends. Partners in crime ?"

"That's not it." Red said, looking apologetic. "It's just not... possible. I can't condone his methods, and you, you... It would be too risky."

"What our Altar boy means is that we've already thought about it. It's tempting. But he is a pious martyr who loves to suffer by wanting to avoid making others suffer. Which is fucking pissing me off, because he's too naive and too nice, a hopeless case. You, you're in the middle, a bit of both. He doesn't want to hurt you, I don't want to rot you. What we have now, It's working, it's fine, so stop."

"...Stop ? Even though you... and I... Wait, you thought about that ?! You thought about that, and with me ?"

Hell, Peter was not wrong with the "moms" thing, they were his fucking parents, all three of them. Did the kid do it on purpose ? He was clever, the little spider monkey. He must have noticed too, that Red and Frank didn't really hate each other, and he must have seen how they were with Y/N.

After all, Peter was a teenager, he knew the behaviours of stupid teenagers pretty well. He was lonely too, even though he had his aunt, Ned, and his MJ.

Matt wasn't completely alone, but his friends certainly couldn't understand him. Not as good as Frank and Y/N, who were on their own.

They could be alone, or a little less alone, together.

Except that they didn't want to, because they were afraid of ruining everything. And they were stupid.

"But I want us to fuck, God damn it !"

"Language !" growled Red.

"What ? Everyone knows you chose this costume on purpose because it shows off your ass ! And Frank tears up his t-shirt all the time, that's an obvious signal ! We already do everything else together !"

"Touché, pup. But stop, really, you're going to freak out Red. The poor guy is going to have to go to confession afterwards. The last time, he..."

"Frank !" Matt barked.

"Pup ?" Y/N wondered.

Red growled again. He was almost totally red now, and he was shaking. Frank didn't answer, sighing as he scratched his neck, before smiling and snickering, which made Red growl even more.

With his ninja speed and natural grace, he suddenly lunged at the Punisher, punching him in the face to silence him, before smack his lips to his.

Just as quickly, he did the same with Y/N, without giving them time to react, then he jumped out the window, cursing.

Frank started laughing again, patting Y/N on the shoulder, kissing them on the cheek and following the Devil.

"We'll fuck another time. Maybe. If he stops being silly and you promise to not do any bullshit."

"You know me."

"Yeah pup, that's the thing."

On the next patrol, Red was very quiet and distant, Frank kept smiling, Y/N tried to pretend everything was perfectly normal, and Peter, smart little shit that he was, acted as if knew exactly what had happened, calling them "Mom 1, 2 and 3" despite their threats and reprimands.

#daredevil #the punisher #matt murdock #frank castle #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfic #frank castle x matt murdock #peter parker #matt murdock x frank castle x reader

248 notes · View notes

whumpiary · 2 years ago

Note

"I was never too fond of my last name." "Well, you could have mine if you'd rather."

PLEASE I need Mal and Lou flirting

from this prompt list

content warning: briefly referenced complicated family bullshit. and fluff 😌

They’ve opted for one giant tub of frozen yoghurt between them, rather than two seperate ones, which ended up being slightly problematic when they got to toppings, but they’d managed to negotiate the delicate balance between fruits and confectionery until they were both satisfied. And Mal is graciously not pointing out that technically Lou has eaten more of the jersey caramels than he has.

But then she goes for one of his brownie bites and he’s absolutely not having it. He baps her on the back of her hand with his spoon.

She pulls back and looks at him, scandalised.

“Those are mine,” he says,

“We are sharing.”

“You wanted berries!”

“Yeah but then you put other shit on!”

“Yeah and that makes it my other shit.”

“Mi casa es su casa.”

“Okay but this side of the toppings is *mi* casa and-“

She swoops her spoon down and steals a piece of brownie while he’s busy telling her off.

“Ah! Louise!”

“Mal James!”

“Oi how come I get last-named?”

“I got full-named!”

“Yeah but I got last named.”

“You don’t have a fuller name for me to go to.”

“Mallory.”

“Literally not your name?”

“Yeah but I’d prefer you use that than my last name.”

“You’d prefer I use a fake name than your real actual name?” Lou says, incredulous and grinning. “Really?”

Mal screws his nose up and steals a raspberry. "I’ve never been too fond of my last name.”

“No?” Lou scoops a raspberry too. “Why? The family baggage?”

“I mean yeah, that, but the amount of patients at work that call me James because they see it on my tag and think it’s my first name? No good.”

“Well if you don’t like your last name, you could always have mine."

Mal nearly chokes on a brownie bite. “What was that?”

“Mal Bako,” Lou says, suave as anything, smiling as she puts her spoon upside down on her tongue. “Reckon it has a nice ring to it. Don’t you?”

Mal’s brain short circuits for a moment or two. He blinks. She grins. He blinks again. “Are you… Is that…?”

Lou’s smile just gets wider, “What?”

“You want me to take your name?”

She shrugs. “If you want it.”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

She raises a sculpted brow, “You saying you don’t wanna?”

“You wanna get married?”

She smiles impossibly wider, spoon still in her mouth, “Mi casa es su casa, right?”

“We’re gonna get married?!”

He dives in so fast for a kiss that he knocks their teeth together and the frozen yoghurt clean over.

“So I was thinking about what you said…”

“About?”

“About my name.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he says. They’re up at the lookout above town, sharing fish and chips for dinner as they watch the setting sun, both sitting side-saddle on their bikes. It almost looks too pretty to be real, the pink of the sky reflecting off the gums. “Reckon it is the family baggage a bit.”

It feels weird to admit out loud.

Lou, gracious and careful, stays quiet. She watches his face and waits for him to elaborate a bit more.

“I mean… James Family Real Estate. James family business. James family dependency issues,” he pauses. “James family history. Both criminal and otherwise.”

He scratches at the roses on his inner arm, the warped skin they half-cover, the two intertwined snakes he’s sure are still there somewhere underneath the scar tissue.

Lou takes his hand and brings it up to her lips to kiss the back of it. “I was serious about you taking mine if you want it. It’d be an honour.”

He looks at her and gives her a soft smile. It’s an honour to be offered it. But he can’t hold her gaze too long, turning his head as a few cockatoos make a noisy take off.

“Nah that’s the thing though,” he says. “Not that I don’t want your name but… I want mine, you know?”

She tilts her head this time. Not really.

He clicks his tongue in thought and sighs a breath.

“How come they get the name and I don’t? You know?” he says. “How come I have to change my name or something because I don’t want to belong to their legacy? The names mine as much as any of theirs.”

“True that,” Lou says. He kisses the back of his hand this time. “So you want to keep it? Reclaim it kinda?”

He turns his head to look at her, heart full of a strange feelings-soup. With a strong seasoning of nerves. “Would that be okay?”

She raises a brow, “Are you seriously asking me if it’s okay if you keep your fuckin’ maiden name?”

He laughs loudly, the sound bouncing down the hillside. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Shit my dude, we’re gonna have to review the terms of the marriage if you want that long a leash.”

He laughs again. The shake of it feels damn good in his chest. “Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hm. You want your last name, then I’m expecting an obedient house husband.”

“Dinner on the table at 6?”

“And all the housework done.”

“And I assume I’m not allowed any hobbies?”

“Or friends. Don’t even think about it.”

“Only fair, I suppose. I, with so little dowry…”

“Exactly. You’re on thin ice.”

He chuckles again and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small little black box to slide along the seat of Lou’s bike. “Does this sweeten the deal any?”

The breath in she takes is as shocked and sweet as if she hadn’t already proposed to him a fortnight ago. “Oh my god.”

He flicks the box open to reveal the ring. Simple hammered band, imprinted with a tiny fern frond, “Whaddya reckon?”

“Dude.”

He smiles at her, a little chuffed to see her teary-eyed. “You want me to do this proper?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

So gets down on one knee, groaning right the way down.

“Old man,” she quips.

He scoffs in mock offense, “Excuse me, I’m a cripple. Cut me some slack.”

“Nuh. No excuse.”

“Shut up. I’m being romantic.”

“Okay, sorry.”

“Lou Bako…”

“Mal James…”

“Shh,” he scolds. She has a look on her face that tells him she’s barely holding back a grin. Like she’s full of every good thing in the world and struggling to contain it. Ready to burst at the seams with joy. He reckons he feels about the same.

The cockatoos take off again and he feels like the sun is setting on the horizon just so it can rise in his chest.

“You wanna be my motherfucking wife?”

#fluff #lou #mal #tooth rot etc etc #everyone go to the dentist

28 notes · View notes

valwentinefics · 4 years ago

Text

Instincts - Helmut Zemo x F!Reader (omegaverse) 18+

Plot: Y/n, an unmated omega, forgets to get a refill of her suppressants, sending her into her heat while at work. Luckily for her notorious criminal and alpha Helmut Zemo is hiding out in the backroom. (Takes place after episode 4 of tfatws)

A/n: First of all I’m sorry, second of all I’m sorry, third of all, You’re welcome. This is my first time writing omegaverse so it’s probably not the best and I haven’t read an omegaverse fic in a hot minute. Sorry my smut is always so short, I really gotta work on that.

Warnings: smut, normal a/b/o things, possessive dirty talk, mentions of omegas being harmed, mentions of fear of being assaulted. (if i missed anything please let me know)

As an unmated omega, Y/n knew well of the dangers of the world. Everywhere she looked alphas lurked around looking for their own omega, a rare thing to have in this society. Although omegas were coveted and prized they were still at the bottom of the hierarchy and were expected to be subservient to whatever alpha marked them, a thought that terrified Y/n. Stories of alphas that harmed omegas were sickeningly common, and with everyone plastering on fake kindness in hopes to place their mark on her neck, Y/n was terrified she would end up a statistic.

Suppressants were Y/n’s saving grace, an illegal method to mask her true nature from the world and pose as a beta where she could live her life peacefully, something she could never do as an omega. If she were to get caught she could face serious time in a correctional facility built just for omegas to learn their place in the world, and so every day was filled with caution and fear.

“God I look like shit.” Y/n’s heavy eyes looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the bags under her eyes deep and only looking worse due to the harsh fluorescent light buzzing away above her. The illegal suppressants had many side effects ranging from life threatening to mildly troublesome, but the one that affected Y/n most was the inability to fall asleep. Each night was spent tossing and turning, her body feeling restless.

Sluggishly Y/n grabbed her concealer, dabbing it on beneath her eyes, her hands shaking with exhaustion. She finished with a sigh, running her hands through her hair to remove any major knots. She didn’t have the energy to fully go through her hair, not seeing the point. She was hidden as a beta anyways, no one would give her a second glance. Y/n opened the medicine cabinet, looking for the white box of suppressants, only to not find it anywhere. Her stomach sank as she realized she forgot to get her refill yesterday. It would be fine though, she hoped. She had gone without them before and hadn’t gone in heat, surely it would be the same thing this time, but for some reason there was a nagging feeling in her mind it wouldn’t be.

Y/n grabbed her perfume, spraying it on herself. The scent was cinnamon, similar to her natural scent as an omega, but it had the slight acrid scent of being a perfume. She hoped that would be enough to convince the alphas she passed by that she was just a beta wearing perfume. It wasn’t something she used often, only when her overtired brain didn’t remember to get the refill of her suppressants.

“That's good enough, I hope.” Y/n mumbled to herself. She smoothed out her short sundress, the light flowy fabric ending at her mid thigh. It was her favourite dress, she felt and knew she looked cute in it. Y/n didn’t like to wear things like this often, she didn’t want the attention of anyone, but frankly she felt like shit and needed the joy looking nice brought her.

The walk to the flower shop had Y/n’s body feeling hot, however she assumed it was the warm weather, not wanting her paranoia to make her miss work. The flower shop she owned was Y/n’s only source of income and it wasn’t a bad one at that. It was common for alpha’s to come in and buy bouquets to give to the first omega they see on the streets in an attempt to woo them. That was another reason Y/n refused to accept her status as an omega. Every bit of romance was just disingenuous. Alpha’s only wanted to have the honour of being chosen by an omega, they didn’t care about who that omega was. However, Y/n was happy it paid her bills.

The day went by smoothly until closing time when Y/n turned off the open sign, the neon light no longer lighting up the darkening street outside. As she grabbed her keys to leave a sharp pain went through her abdomen, causing a gasp to escape her throat. She rested a hand on the painful area, eyes wide. She should have listened to her instincts, she should have stayed home, but she didn’t and now she was going into heat in her store. Y/n paced, her mind running at a hundred miles an hour as she tried to figure out what to do. She couldn’t go home, walking would be near impossible for her with her heat approaching fast. She would have to wait it through in her shop with no relief.

“Oh fuck…” Y/n groaned in pain, leaning against the wall. She knew she had to find something to eat to get the strength to get through this. With shaky steps she headed to the back, her hand glued to her abdomen as if that would alleviate her pain. As she approached the door to the back room her blood went cold, her nose picking up the faint scent of an alpha through the thick door.

She debated opening it. Her instincts were telling her to open it and get his help with the heat, her brain told her it could be dangerous. Eventually decided to confront him, to ask what he was doing and maybe for his help getting home if he didn’t seem too awful. With her keys clutched between her fingers just in case, she slowly opened the door, her body almost melting at the scent that wafted to her.

A man dressed in a long coat with a fur collar stared back at her with shock, the scent of pine trees wafting off of him. “Omega…?” He spoke with a Sokovian accented voice. It took Y/n a few moments before the identity of the dangerously handsome man registered in her mind. She had seen him on the news. He was Helmut Zemo, the man who almost single handedly destroyed the Avengers.

Y/n shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate. “You’re Helmut Zemo… What- what are you doing here?” She asked, fixing her posture to appear assertive and trying her best to resist the urge to submit right there. A mixture of fear and arousal was filling her body to the point where she thought she might explode.

“So you’ve heard about me?” He tilted his head slightly. “I needed a place to hide for a bit, I’ve been scoping this place out. You’re the owner, Y/n, correct?” Y/n gulped but nodded, worried about why he was hiding out. “That doesn’t matter right now. Why are you here? It’s not safe for an omega in heat to be out in public.” He scolded as if Y/n didn’t know that. It was odd, having the notorious criminal seem to care about her safety. She wondered what he was trying to achieve, if anything.

“It wasn’t my choice okay?” She snapped, a wave of pain washed over her and she slumped against the door frame with a groan. Zemo got up, moving to her quickly but stopping once Y/n had flinched, worried he was going to try something.

“You need to get home, where’s your car? I'll escort you there.” He said, his voice was strained and Y/n’s eyes couldn’t help but land on the growing bulge in his pants. He was going into a rut which explained his current caring and protective nature. Her mouth watered at the thought of having his cock in her mouth but she tore her eyes away, looking to the side to avoid him.

“I don’t have a car… too expensive.” She groaned out, her breaths growing to pants as she started to overheat, fanning herself with her hand.

Zemo let out a staggered exhale, running his hand through his formerly perfectly done hair. “What’s your address? I’ll bring you there myself.” Y/n was impressed at the amount of self control this alpha had. Even as his rut was beginning he managed to stay calm and collected for the most part, but Y/n knew it was hard for him, sweat ran down his forehead as he strained to keep control.

Reluctantly Y/n told him her address knowing he was her best bet at getting home safely. A whimper escaped her throat as she felt her slick begin to drip down her thigh. She clenched her legs together, desire seeping into every part of her. She wanted the alpha’s knot more than anything she had ever wanted before. She could hardly focus on what Zemo was doing, not noticing he had draped his coat over her and picked her up until they were already out the door.

Zemo didn’t breathe as often as he needed while he walked, trying not to inhale Y/n’s scent as he moved at a quick pace, shooting piercing glares at every passerby that dared look their way. He felt protective over the little omega. His cock strained uncomfortably against his pants as his mind filled with thoughts of mating with her, but he pushed them back, not wanting to take advantage of her. Arriving at the apartment building he used her keys to unlock the door to the humble apartment, locating her room and placing her down on her bed. Y/n took off his coat and offered it back.

“You can keep the jacket for now, I’ll come back for it once you’re done with your heat.” He said, quickly turning around. Y/n’s hand shot out, grabbing his gloved hand.

“Please alpha, don't leave, help me.” She whimpered. Y/n didn’t know where that had come from, but she didn’t regret it, knowing it wasn’t just her heat talking. He was powerful, respectful, not to mention handsome. Everything a good mate should be, even though Y/n knew mating with a dangerous man like him was out of the question. Y/n found herself liking the man despite knowing what he had done and not knowing him long. She knew he would treat her well during her heat, if he accepted.

“Are you sure omega?” He asked, not facing her in fear that he would pounce on her as soon as he saw the desire in her eyes.

“Yes alpha, please…” Y/n whimpered again, giving his hand a small tug. “I need you”

That was all he needed to lose control. Zemo turned around to face her, stalking to the bed as he removed his shirt, straddling Y/n’s warm needy body. Her smaller hands reached out, undoing his belt and palming Zemo’s cock through his pants. Y/n couldn’t help the filthy thoughts that flooded her mind, desire for the dangerous man’s knot consuming her.

Zemo let out a groan, taking off his pants and boxers, letting his painfully hard cock free. Y/n’s eyes were clouded with lust as she leaned forward, mouth open and ready to suck it. He tapped the side of her cheek with his cock, running his hand through her hair and gripping it.

“No liebling, this is about you. I can wait for another time.” He let go of her hair and Y/n laid down, watching the alpha as he took off her panties and put her legs over his shoulders, running his cock slowly up and down her folds and coating itself in her slick, the tip teasing her as it came so close to going in. Y/n let out a little whine, letting him know she was growing impatient. “I apologize omega, it’s rude of me to tease.” He smirked before shoving himself all the way in easily.

Y/n’s toes curled as she let out a loud gasping moan, throwing her head back in pleasure as he began to thrust in and out of her, the position they were in allowing him to reach every part of her with ease. His hands ran up and down her waist as he let out a deep moan. Y/n’s eyes were locked on him as he fucked her deeply, causing her to let out a whimper of pleasure with every thrust.

“Look at you little omega, taking my cock so well.” He reached over to cup her cheek in his hand, rubbing circles into the soft flesh with his thumb. “Does it feel good?” His hand dropped from her cheek and began to rub her clit with just enough roughness to send her over the edge, a loud moan escaping her as she came.

“Yes, fuck! harder, please!” She said between moans, her hands tangling themselves in Zemo’s hair and gripping it as she panted.

Zemo moaned as he re-adjusted her legs on his shoulders, picking up the pace. “This pussy of yours, it’s mine now. I’ll fuck you through this heat and every heat you have next.” He growled, hitting Y/n’s sweet spot, making her cry out in ecstasy.

Y/n felt warm inside at his words. Her pussy clenched around his cock as the stimulation from him rubbing her clit and pounding into her sent her over the edge again, panting as she came hard. He was good at making her feel good, and for once Y/n was glad she was an omega.

“Fuck, you feel so good clenched around me. Do you want my knot in you, little omega? Do you want me to fill you up with my cum?” He asked cockily, receiving a desperate whine from Y/n.

“Please, please, please!” She begged, the only thoughts filling her mind were those of need for his knot buried deep into her.

“How can I refuse... when you’re asking so nicely, liebling.” He spoke between grunts. His thrusts slowly became more sloppy and deep and Y/n knew he was about to cum.

With one last deep thrust Zemo buried his cock all the way into Y/n’s pussy, his knot trapping the two together as he emptied his cum into Y/n. She felt so full in a good way, her breaths heavy with exhaustion as she internally frowned at the thought of Zemo pulling out of her. His knot alleviated the worst of her heat and as she laid there sore and sweaty, her now clearer mind had no regrets about what had happened.

Zemo pulled out after a while, his knot going away. A smile danced on his lips as he saw the cum dripping out of her as he pulled out his cock. Y/n’s eyes fluttered closed as she moved to a more comfortable position on the bed. Zemo grabbed his jacket from the floor, dusting it off and draping it over the omega’s tired form. Hesitantly he hovered over her before pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head, deeply inhaling her scent.

Not wanting to intrude any more, he got dressed and walked over to the couch, exhaustion filling his body as he slumped down onto it, closing his eyes with a smile. He could tell he would need all the rest he could get while he rode out the omega’s heat with her. He was so happy he decided to hide out at that flower shop.

Tags: @peculiar-monstar @lovelyzabrak-meadow @captainsherlockwinchester110283

#a/b/o #omegaverse #zemo x reader #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #zemo #zemo smut

422 notes · View notes