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ludwig-van-gaythoven · 3 days

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Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 6

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, homophobia.

Parts;

Part1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

It had been 2 days since the camping trip ended, 4 days since you last heard anything from Janis, and approximately 3 days since you kissed Regina George, and Regina George kissed you back. Not that you were counting.

The morning after, she had woken up before you and was already packing your campsite away before you had the chance to speak to her. Gretchen, Karen and Shane had already found you and you had to walk back to the meeting point as a group. Regina was back to being all over Shane again, she spent most of the walk back draped over his shoulder. She didn’t try and make the usual snarky comments towards you, she just ignored you entirely.

Back to being invisible I guess.

You sat alone on the coach journey back. Regina was sat with Gretchen and Karen again. You tried to steal a few pleading glances at her but she never met your eyes.

Your apartment feels emptier that usual when you get back. You manage to avoid thinking about the whole situation all weekend, busying yourself with video games and sleep to try and avoid spontaneously combusting from anxiety at the thought of going to school on Monday. The floor of your apartment is littered with takeaway containers, you don’t have the mental or physical energy to cook this weekend.

When Monday morning rolls round, you sort of wish you’d spontaneously combusted because it’d be much less messy than the eventual argument with Janis would be.

You’re not sure who you’re more anxious to see. It’s likely Regina will go back to ignoring your entire existence so it’s not like anything dramatic would happen. You hope.

You sigh and drag your aching body out of bed in a desperate attempt to shake off the sleep. You have a quick shower to wash away the depression of the past weekend and throw on some jeans and a T-shirt. You make sure you remember to pick up your headphones, they’re likely to be needed today.

You grab your car keys and open the car door. To your surprise, the car actually starts first time.

On the drive there you hope you hit every red light possible, or maybe your car breaks down. Anything so you don’t have to face Regina, or Janis.

Usually Janis would come over at the weekend. She thinks it’s cool you live alone and you usually spend the time playing video games together, getting drunk, smoking or just generally hanging out. Janis was the first person, apart from family that you’d told about being a lesbian. She was the first one to react positively at least. She came out to you a week later.

Because you spent so much time together you thought you might have a crush on her. She was cute, and you enjoyed spending time together. It still makes you cringe when you remember her kissing you one drunken night. You both agreed that it wasn't a romantic attraction and luckily managed to laugh it off and go back to normal. Especially since Janis had admitted to being in love with someone else who didn’t feel the same way.

Imagine Janis’s reaction if she knew you’d kissed Regina.

When you arrive you immediately spot Regina’s pink jeep, it wasn’t exactly hard to find. You also see Janis’s beaten up car, chips in the paintwork that she had filled with colorful acrylic. There’s probably no point in trying to find Regina, she wouldn’t dare risk her status speaking to you in public, so you decide to try and find Janis before classes start. You miss her a lot.

As you walk into the building you spot her and Damien in the same spot you meet every morning, does that mean they were waiting for you? Maybe Janis has forgiven you over the weekend, you haven’t had an argument before that’s lasted more than one day.

Clearly not because as soon as she spots you walking over she rolls here eyes and starts to walk away at speed. You try and shout after her but she turns at yells back.

“Sorry, don’t want you to think I’m obsessed with you!” And flips you off. Damien just gives you an apologetic shrug and follows after her.

It makes your blood boil slightly. It wasn’t just your fault! She was also being a dick!

You consider sneaking out behind the bins in the car park for a cigarette to try and calm your anger, it seems like a good plan, even if you miss the start of class.

You stay well out of the eye line of teachers as you slink out to the car park and light a much needed cigarette, you sigh out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

Someone appears out of the corner of your eye, coming around the corner of the bins. There’s nowhere to hide, you brace yourself to be chewed out by a teacher.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

It’s Janis.

You ignore her and take a long drag of your cigarette. She sighs and lights her own. You both stand in silence, staring out at the road.

“I’m sorry.” You both say at once. Janis shoots you a shy smile.

“I overreacted.” She rubs her arm nervously. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me on purpose.”

A pang of guilt sparks in your chest and makes you feel sick.

“I shouldn’t have said you’re obsessed with Regina, I know that’s opening old wounds.” You offer back.

Her shoulders loosen and she swaps her cigarette into her other hand, reaching out towards you.

“Truce?” She says with a dorky grin.

You take her hand.

“Truce.” You laugh back and shake it.

You both finish your cigarette and head back to class. It feels better to not be fighting with your best friend but you still haven’t exactly told the truth.

It’s not like you were ever going to kiss Regina again. Maybe Janis didn’t have to know this small detail.

The day feels like it’s dragging on forever, you’re too busy thinking about what happened with Regina, and debating what you should have said to Janis to pay attention to any lessons, especially not this one.

It’s health class, otherwise known as the most awkward and cringey explanation of sex done by a teacher who clearly wants a pay rise but won’t get one. Nobody is really paying attention, only the boys who laugh and yell anytime the teacher says the word ‘penis’.

This is the only class you share with Regina. She’s sitting at the back of the room, filing her nails into perfect claws, with her legs draped across Shane Oman. The sight of it makes your stomach flip.

She clearly catches you staring because she meets your eyes and scowls. She pushes her legs further up Shane’s, whose face goes red. He’s probably just got the most embarrassing hard on. You roll your eyes at her, bold move, she scowls more.

At least she’s not ignoring you entirely.

You feel your phone buzz. It’s Janis sending some stupid meme, it makes you smile, you message her back with a meme you’d saved the night before.

Regina suddenly clears her throat and interrupts the class.

“I think we should learn more about lesbian sex to help some people in this class” she smirks and sends you a pointed look.

Your face heats up. Did she know you were talking to Janis? Was she hacked into your phone? Was she worried you were telling everyone about the kiss? You feel anger boil up inside again.

Two can play at that game.

“I actually think we should learn about avoiding teen pregnancy.” You shoot back, raising an eyebrow at her. There’s an eruption of laughter and Regina looks pissed.

“At least I’m getting some!”

“Both of you, out! Go to the library and I’ll see you after class to give you your assignments, and an hour’s detention.” The teacher shouts.

Regina hops off of Shane’s lap and scoffs like it’s some huge injustice and you follow behind, leaving a generous amount of room between you.

When you get to the library you’re the only ones there. It’s silent and the air tastes like stale books. Regina practically throws her bag down and storms off to the far end of the library. You stomp to the other end in an attempt to be as far away from her as possible.

You unlock your phone and think about texting Janis about what just happened but that would require more explanation and probably cause another fight.

You slump down against one of the shelves of books and decide to scroll tumblr instead.

“You know just because you kissed me it doesn’t mean I’m like in love with you.” You glance up and Regina is standing above you now with her arms folded.

Her blue eyes are fixed on you, you trail your gaze down. She’s wearing a short white skirt and a pink crop top with a grey hoodie. Her hair bounces in loose curls against her shoulders. You hope she didn’t catch you looking.

“I never said you were.” You growl.

“I didn’t even want to kiss you.” She spits back.

It stings a little, but you can’t let her have the last word.

“Yeah well, kissing you was a mistake anyway.” You quip back. It’s probably true, you don’t regret it though. You’d kiss Regina again, a hundred times.

“That’s bullshit.” Her brows furrow. “You’re obsessed with me.”

“Jesus Regina, you’ve said that about so many people. Get your head out of your ass.” You snap and she huffs and moves closer, looming over you.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?.”

You stand.

“I said, get your head out of your ass. If you’re so bothered by a kiss, why did you kiss me back?” You challenge, you’re not entirely sure where the confidence has come from but Regina has a way of getting you so riled up you can’t hold back.

She snarls and pins you against the shelf of books, her blonde locks fall either side of you and one book hits the ground with a thud, the pages splaying and creasing against the ground.

You feel like prey.

Suddenly she lunges at you. You expect pain, a fist to the face, a slap but instead you feel her lips pressed hard against yours, it feels like it’ll bruise.

You hear the door to the library open and she bites down on your lip hard before pulling away.

You can taste the metallic tang of blood on your tongue.

The teacher walks in and sets a bag down on one of the desks. He attempts to tell you both off for your behaviour in class but you can tell he’s intimidated by Regina’s icy glare.

“Because both of you decided to get yourselves sent out, you didn’t get the chance to pick your partners for this assignment, so you’ll be paired together.”

You hear Regina groan dramatically. This is familiar.

The teacher unzips the bag and pulls out a baby doll in a car seat. Your eyes widen.

“You two will be co parenting for a week. The baby has sensors and at the end of the week we will be able to track how you held the baby, how long you let him cry, when he’s fed and more. Here’s a workbook, I expect you both to fill it out during this week with the baby. If you fail this assignment, you’ll have to do it again for another week so don’t think about turning it off.” He places the car seat on the desk and hands you the workbook before leaving swiftly. He obviously didn’t want to be there for Regina’s outburst.

“This is your fucking fault for mentioning pregnancy you idiot.” She yells. This makes the doll start crying which enrages her more.

“Would you shut up! You’re making him cry.” You whisper shout back. It’s not like you care about it but you wish it would shut up before it gives you a headache.

“Whatever, you’re a single parent this week, good luck.” She shrugs, grabs her bag and leaves you with the crying doll.

Typical.

You pick up the car seat and follow her out. Your car and hers are the last ones in the car park.

You watch her walk away and unlock your door and clip the car seat into the passenger side. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to put it in the back, but it’s not like it’s a real baby.

You put the key in and turn.

The car makes an awful spluttering sound and you see a plume of dark grey smoke from the back window.

The doll is still screaming and you groan, dropping your head on the steering wheel which lets out a long honk.

You hear an engine rumbling behind your car and Regina leans out the side of her jeep.

“Get in loser, I’ll take you home.”

#wlw #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george fanfic #regina george x reader #regina george x you #mean girls #mean girls fanfic #renee rapp #cabin fever

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trippinsorrows · 2 days

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with me + part five

authors notes: hi! you guys are so freaking awesome and sweet and like gawww, so grateful for such kind words and support!

so i realized that i used the wwe names for jimmy, jey, naomi, etc. that was my bad. i'll be using their real names moving forward for the sake of flow and consistency.

also keep forgetting to state that current timeline is 2023. like, this chapter is fall 2023. everything, so far, post breakup for joe and reader has been 2023. i plan to follow that timeline, so make of that what you will.

i hope this chapter isn't too boring to people!

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 5.7k

tags: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion

“So, are we just going to continue to ignore each other?”

You’re not sure how, but you sense his presence long before he even says anything. And instantly, your mood is dampened, not that you were in the best spirits to begin with. You didn’t get much sleep the night before, for reasons you cannot fathom. But, it’s annoying as hell, especially when you have an ex turned fuck buddy who can’t seem to get a fucking clue ready to confront you outside of your daughter's preschool.

Sighing heavily, you pull out your phone to play around with your lock screen, because you really don’t have anyone you need to message in this moment. But, he doesn’t need to know that. “Not now, Amir.”

“Because you’re so busy?”

“Because I don’t care.” One thing you’ve learned about yourself over the years is that once you’re annoyed with someone, there’s no filter on your mouth and you cannot be held liable for what comes out of it. “Now, please, go away.”

He just looks at you, sun shining down on his waves and chocolate complexion. It’s unfortunate outside of his looks that he’s an overall trash partner. Decent friend. Shitty boyfriend. “You always do that shit, you know? Pull and then push. It was kinda cute when we were kids. Now, it’s just annoying.”

You were standing outside of Callie’s preschool, waiting for the kids to be dismissed, waiting for your little girl to come running out with a smile on her face, request on the tip of her tongue. It’s usually something small like wanting to show you what she learned in school. Lately, it’s been the same.

Can I call Joe?

A part of you feels bad for the amount of calls he probably gets in one day just from Callie alone. She took your offer for her to call him whenever he was available to another degree, not that he minded. He took as many as he could, listening to her talk and talk about whatever happened to be on her mind in that moment. And you let her.

What kind of mother would you be if you stopped her from talking to her dad? Even if she doesn’t know that’s who he is.

It’s been almost two weeks since he left, and she clearly misses him. You often overhear her asking about when he’s coming again. You also receive those questions. It’s something you and him discuss via text but haven’t landed on a date yet.

Communicating with Joe is also something that’s still an adjustment. It’s not as difficult or uncomfortable, because it’s almost entirely about Callie, but still.

“If that’s the case, why do you bother?” You manage a less insensitive tone, even if you know good and well you’ve never led this man on. Amir has always heard and believed what he wanted to believe. That was the problem. He never listened to you.

“Because I fucking care about your annoying ass, duh.”

His delivery, the tone, and cadence. You laugh. It’s probably inappropriate at the moment, but it does bring a smile to his face as well. “Softie.”

He moves closer to you, arms crossed. “I’m serious, Y/N. You know how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you.”

Leaning against your car, you respond as calmly as you can, “and you know I’ve always made it clear I’m not looking for anything more. We had our time, Amir. It didn’t work out. Now we just help each other get off. I don’t know why you keep trying to make it more than what it is.”

“A date. One date,” he implores. A waste of time, because your answer is no. It’s been no and will continue to be no. “You haven’t even given ‘adult’ us a chance.”

There’s a headache in your near future, one that’s reminiscent of past ones only Amir seems to induce. It’s interesting how he went from indifferent asshole to clingy asshole. You almost miss the earlier version.

Chocolate was supposed to be good for the soul, so why was he so draining to yours?

“Amir…..” You try to pick your words carefully and be mindful of your tone. “This is getting real old. I think we need to stop messing around, because we’re clearly not on the same page.” The next part is something you probably shouldn’t share, but you call yourself trying to be open and clear. “Calista’s dad is back, and we’re trying to navigate coparenting, so—”

“What?” He stops you, shock written over his handsome face. “Are you serious? You’re letting that motherfucker back in ya’ll life?”

This time, it’s his tone that jumps, accusatory and harsh. You immediately grow defensive. “You don’t know him.”

“God, why do you defend him like this? Is it that Stockholm Syndrome shit? He left you. He left you and his kid. What kind of man does that? And you’re just letting him back in? Just gonna jump back on his dick? Letting him around Callie? She’s old enough now to remember when he decides to leave again. I don’t get how you don’t see that. You her mama. You supposed to look out for her.”

And now, you’re done trying to be nice, trying to be mindful that he’s still another human being with feelings. Because one thing you never have and never will tolerate is someone insinuating you’re not looking out for your daughter. You’re not perfect, but you know that you’re a devoted, dutiful mother.

“It’s obvious comprehension isn’t your strong suit, which I should have known based off the fact that I always had to help your dumbass do your homework back when we were in school.” All bets….off. “My baby? My life? My pussy? All my business. You don’t get to judge the decisions I make for my child nor the role that her father has in her life. That’s between me and him. Keep your nose out my fucking business. Don’t worry about me hitting you up anymore. That’s dead.”

Your rose will do just fine. Hell, there’s gotta be at least one other eligible bachelor in town you could fuck if absolutely need be. But, you know damn well you won’t be messaging Amir anymore. He comes with too much baggage. It’s not worth it. You refuse to let a nigga whose height starts with a 5 stress you out.

True to his nature, he starts gaslighting you. Typical Amir. “There you go overreacting and shit.”

“No, I’m not. You’re trying to question my parenting when you don’t know shit about shit.”

He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes. This was why people used to say you had a temper in high school. Because of him. Because he loved to tell people what you said but never what he did. Always tried to make you feel crazy. Truth be told, you’re stupid for even opening that door with him again, even if it’s just for sex.

“Whatever, Y/N.” He turns to walk back over to his car. You really wish his damn sister would change her work schedule so she can pick up her son instead of this asshole. You’ll catch a case fucking with his dumbass. “I’ll wait for your text.”

He’ll be waiting. “Fuck you, Amir.”

You should be more mindful of your language at a damn preschool, but Amir has managed to get under your skin, something that hasn’t happened since you were in college. You know a good part of it is because you’re sleep deprived, but you also know it’s partially because of his dig at Joe.

You understand the optics seem to indicate that he’s a deadbeat, but you’ve expressed to Amir countless times that it was a complicated situation. He didn’t know the specifics, but you made it clear Joe didn’t abandon you or Callie. That’s just the narrative Amir keeps running with, and now with Joe being back in your life and especially in Callie’s life, you’re not gonna let it continue.

“Mommy!” Your head snaps to see and feel Callie run up to and hug her body against your leg. “Boo!”

Shit. Did she hear any of that? You hope not and paste on a smile that’s hopefully authentic enough to sell that everything is fine. “Callie Bear.” You lean down and pick her up, kissing her cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

She nods and starts explaining the activities while you buckle her into her carseat, trying your best to calm down and not give away your high stress levels in that moment. Callie is super perceptive, and you don’t want to ruin the obviously great day she’s had.

And sure enough, as you’re putting on your seatbelt and starting up the car, the golden question is shouted with pre-excitement.

“Can I call Joe when I get home?”

Smiling at her through the rearview mirror, you answer, “yes, you can.”

In the almost two weeks that have passed since Joe’s departure, not one day has passed that Callie doesn’t asks to call Joe or just outright helps yourself to her iPad to call him. Sometimes several times a day during the weekends. And she’ll talk to him for as long as she can, as long as he’s able to hold a conversation with her. You’ll give it to him, he’s done an exceptional job handling all of it. On some level, you wonder if you should set some restrictions or time parameters, but how do you limit how much a daughter interacts with her father?

Callie rejoices at your approval and requests for you to put on the Disney playlist you made specifically for her on Spotify.

The drive, no more than 10 minutes, consists of the two of you singing along to a few Disney tunes. It’s a bit of a tradition between you, a way to bond via your shared love of Disney. A love that ties not only you to her but to the women before you. Your mom and grandma.

Arriving to your apartment complex, you decide to leave your work bag in the car. It’s Thanksgiving break. You most likely won’t do any work until the day or two before having to return.

You do carry Callie on your hip and swing her bag around your shoulder, walking the two of you up to the second floor. Sometimes, you regret not accepting the apartment they had available on the first floor. The older you get, the less your joints like to cooperate, your almost 15 years of cheer probably taking a toll on your body.

And just age in general.

But your regret quickly turns to a level of gratitude when you reach your door.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Dropping Callie to the floor, she’s of the complete opposite reaction, gasping and smiling broadly.

“Look mommy, more boxes!”

The smile is strained but you manage to maintain it, sticking the key in the door, unlocking and pushing it open.

She walks in, and you place her bag on the floor near the door, one foot keeping it open. “What do you think it is?” She asks as you pick them up and bring them inside, kicking the door closed behind you.

You know exactly what it is. What it all is.

Gifts.

From Joe.

In his absence, you’ve had several deliveries waiting outside your door when you got home from work and picking Callie up. And all of them were for Callie, gifts of variable nature but all of them things she loves. Disney, stuffed animals, dolls. Essentially anything that could make a 4 year old feel like she’s won the lottery.

She’s literally bouncing on her toes, already with her kids scissors in her hands.

When the hell did she grab those?

“Can I open them, please? Please?”

A part of you wants to say no, save them for christmas gifts, though you’re almost entirely certain he’ll have another set of gifts for her then. And it seems almost cruel to make her wait over a month when she knows there are presents waiting for her.

“Sure, but….” You scamper into the kitchen and grab your adult size scissors, returning and showing her. “Let mommy cut them, and then you open them.”

You don’t need this child accidentally cutting herself. Again, medical bills are not in the budget, especially around the holidays. Money’s already tight to some extent.

Not that….not that it’d be much of an issue with Callie. You’d never fix your moth to ask Joe for anything, especially not financially, but if it was something involving your daughter, you’re pretty sure your tune would change. It would still bother you to ask for help, but you know he’d have zero qualms helping you out.

He’d probably pay for it in its entirety.

Your proposition pleases her. “Okay!” She places her scissors on the nearest flat surface and sits down, legs crossed, bouncing impatiently.

Chuckling, you glide your scissors across, careful not to open anything. You want to save that moment for her and your plan.

Once done, you place the scissors on the kitchen island and reach for your phone. “Wait before you open, baby.”

Immediately, she frowns and scowls, “whyyyyyy.”

Rolling your eyes, you sit on the floor too to be at her eye level and open Snapchat. “Okay, now.”

You hit record and watch intermittently through and outside of the screen as she opens the boxes, smile permanent and excitement palpable. She especially gets excited when she pulls out a freaking box of the new Little Mermaid and all of her sisters. More��.dolls.

“Look, mommy!!!” She then grabs a doll who has a surprisingly similar complexion and curl pattern to hers, holding it against her face. “She looks like me!”

“She does,” you agree, realizing it’s a customized American Girl doll. Damn. Those things can run up to $200. You weren’t stupid, knowing Joe’s probably spent more money on Callie alone in two weeks than you’ve spent all year, but just how much has he spent?

It’s when she opens the final box, surrounded by nothing but toys and packaging that you’re already dreading having to stuff all this in your trash bin, “what do you say, baby?”

Callie hugs the American Doll close to her chest and directs to the camera, “thank you, Joe!” She gasps and adds on, “I miss you, but mommy said I can call you tonight!”

You hold back your giggle and agree, adding, “after she helps mommy clean up all this.”

Her smile drops, pout returning, “I hate cleaning.”

Snickering, you mutter, “you and me too, sis.”

You end the video, save it and enter Joe’s chat to attach the video, adding a message.

You: You’re spoiling her, Joe. 😫 This is the third delivery this week alone.

You’re able to clean up some of the packaging and throw it away before your phone chimes with his response. Callie has grabbed the amount you expected her to grab and discard. Her attention span is trash at the moment. She’s a child surrounded by toys. It’s expected.

Joe: She's my little girl. Of course, I’m gonna spoil her.

Joe: There should be another one by the weekend. If not, let me know.

You sigh aloud, this man is gonna have your place looking like freaking KB Toys.

You: Omg

You: ….You know I live in an APARTMENT, right? Just where the hell am I supposed to put all of this stuff?

It’s sweet he’s so keen on gifting her these things, but he also has to realize you’re not living in a mansion in Malibu. And despite having a child who leaves messes wherever she goes, you do your best to keep your place tidy.

If you didn’t know Joe, didn’t see how easily he connected with Callie, you’d maybe accuse him of trying to “buy” her love. But, you know that’s not the case, know that he clearly just wants to make her happy. You just hope he knows that he does that all by himself, no gifts needed.

Joe: She has a whole playroom.

You: Yes. Playroom, not Toys-R-Us.

Joe: 🤷🏽‍♂️

You: 🙄 You’re aggravating.

He doesn’t say anything after that, so you decide to finish cleaning because at some point your child wandered off, most likely to her playroom to add all her new stuff with her slightly new stuff. Taking advantage of the alone time, you also decide to text your mom to figure out thanksgiving plans. Specifically, what drink, dessert, and/or condiments she wants you to bring because you damn well know she won’t ask you to cook.

She still hasn’t forgiven you for that accidental fire that one year.

And it’s when you’re sitting on the sofa, also starting to think about black friday plans that your mind wanders, your anxiety grows out of nowhere.

You’ve taken the approach to not have any say in Joe’s relationship with Callie, to intervene only when absolutely necessary. And as that hasn’t hasn’t occurred, you’ve not done so. You let him and her do their thing. But a small part of you wonders if you should put some parameters around Callie. She calls him several times a day, Joe, who spends more time on the road than there are days in the year.

You know he wants to establish a relationship with her, but that can be done with boundaries. Anxiety getting the best of you, you grab your phone and shoot him a text.

You: Is it okay if she calls you today? I know it’s been a lot, and if too much, just let me know. I’ll talk to her.

His reply comes almost immediately this time around.

Joe: She can call me 100 times. I don’t care. I wanna talk to her.

And instantly, the anxiety is almost non-existent. Deep down, you know this is what he wants. He wants to have interaction with her, and incessant Facetime calls are the only option with his crazy schedule, so it’s what he takes. It’s what he wants.

Pleased and no longer stressing over an issue that was never an issue, you lock your phone and place it back at your side. A quick glance at the clock reminds you that it’s almost time for Callie’s bath.

A couple minutes later, your phone dings with a text notification. From Joe.

You open it right away.

Joe: This weekend. Don’t tell her. I wanna surprise her.

You have to read it a couple of times before it registers. He’s coming back in town. This weekend. As in less than two days. You’re excited at this, happy as well. For Callie. But also, for yourself. Why? You haven’t a clue, well, maybe there’s a slight clue, but you don’t want to acknowledge that right now.

You simply want to focus on the fact that you’re happy your daughter will be happy her dad is town.

Who cares that you will be too.

________

Joe’s just walked out the bathroom, having showered and almost entirely prepped for bed when his phone rings.

Moving over to the hotel nightstand, he’s surprised when he sees Callie’s smiling face filling his screen. A glance at the clock in the corner of his phone reads 11:06, which means it’s 9:06 her time. Well past her bedtime. What is she doing up?

Curious, and regardless, he answers the phone. It takes a second for the connection to finalize when it does, he’s instantly smiling, mostly because it’s Callie but also because of her setup.

It’s obvious she’s under a blanket, a flashlight in the corner illuminating the space, a stuffed animal in her lap.

She’s the first to speak, her voice both loud and hushed in a way only she can do. “hi!”

“Hi, sweetheart.” He can’t help but ask almost immediately, “what are you doing up?” As he told you, he’d talk to her 24/7 if he could. And even though this call is unexpected and appreciated, she’s also a 4-year-old kid who needs her sleep.

Her little shoulders lift in a shrug. “I can’t sleep.”

Nodding, he follows up with, “where’s mommy?”

“Sleeping,” she answers with a level of disappointment. “I don’t wanna wake her up. She had a bad day.”

“Really?” Joe moves around so he’s laying on the bed, on his side, phone propped on the nightstand. “How do you know?”

“Cause–cause she was yelling at Mr. Amir, and–and he was yelling at her too.”

Joe hasn’t a clue why, but that instantly upsets him. Who the fuck is this Amir person, and who the hell does he think he is to raise his voice at you? Around Callie of all people.

“Who is Mr. Amir?” Joe hates asking her all of these questions, but it’s also hard not to.

“The basketball coach at the school for big kids.” She’s caressing the fur of the stuffed animal in her lap. “Aunt Mariah said he was mommy’s boyfriend when she was a big kid.”

“Really.” It’s not really a question as much as it is a general statement. Joe doesn’t know why he’s suddenly annoyed, not with Callie, but the entire situation. And definitely this Amir person even more now. He’s an ex. He dated you. It shouldn’t make him feel any type of way, but it does, and he hates that shit.

He hates a man he’s never even met.

“I don’t like Mr. Amir,” Callie suddenly announces with a scowl. Same, kid. Same. Joe looks at her, seeing so much of you in her right now. He knows you’ve mentioned how you see a lot of him in Callie, but when she’s glowering like this, she’s 100% her mama’s daughter. “He made mommy mad today.”

“Has he ever been mean to you?” Joe has to ask, because he’s also realizing a part of him is upset at the thought of Callie being around men. You’re a grown woman and allowed to do what you want, but bringing men around Callie….that’s an absolute fucking no.

He doesn’t give a damn if he’s only been in her life for two weeks or two minutes. She’s his daughter, and outside of himself and family, who you date should be kept far away from his daughter.

Joe mentally prepares to have this conversation—potential argument—with you.

“No,” she answers, slightly calmer. “He doesn’t like Disney.” She says it like it’s a sin, like it’s almost inconceivable for anyone to not like Disney.

Playing along with this, Joe gasps, grateful for the distraction that is Callie’s intricacies. “He sucks.”

“Yeah, he sucks,” she agrees, nodding. Joe has to keep his smile to himself. “Do you say bad words?”

The randomness and topic change take him by surprise, but he’s learning that you weren’t exaggerating when you said Callie was filled with incessant, unrelated questions. “Sometimes.”

“Mommy does too,” she reveals. “Grandma says Jesus doesn’t want us to say bad words, but I heard grandma call Ms. Beverly from church a bitch.”

At that, Joe can’t help his laughter. Her delivery, the punctuation she puts on the word ‘bitch’, to how she seems to not even process that she’s just said a bad word. It’s hilarious. “Well, sometimes grown ups say things we shouldn’t, and you just make sure you’re not saying things you shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” she agrees, almost sheepishly. And then, a yawn. “I’m sleepy.”

Joe knew she was from the moment she called, but he had a feeling she just needed to get the whole Amir thing off her chest. She doesn’t seem like the child who likes to or even can hold things in, which is preferable. “You should try to go to sleep then, sweetheart.”

She wipes at her eyes, expression suddenly saddened. “When are you coming back? You’ve been gone a really long time.”

He’s torn in this moment, wanting to tell her that he’ll be there this weekend but also not wanting to get her hopes up in case something comes up. There’s few things that could come up to keep him from going to see her, wrestling be damned, but still. Life has a way of lifing. So, he goes with the safe yet disappointing answer.

“Soon, I promise.” She’s clearly indifferent to this answer and doesn’t say anything, instead shifts on her bed, moving to lay down. “You should really try to sleep, Callie.”

Eyes starting to blink, clearly her exhaustion catching up with her, she asks, softly, “will you stay with me till I fall asleep?”

Her request tugs at his heartstrings. “Of course, sweetie.”

Seemingly pleased by this answer, she closes her eyes, and he watches. He stares at this tiny human whose existence he only learned about not even a month ago yet would do anything to make happy. Joe thinks about Callie constantly, finds himself smiling at the thought of some of the Snapchat videos you’d send him of her in all of her randomness. She was so entertaining, so full of life, a genuinely happy kid. His kid.

And it’s why he’s going to find out more about this Amir guy and why Amir is having any type of interaction with his daughter.

________

Joe: You should know she called me last night.

You’re in the middle of perusing early Black Friday deals, needing to budget for that now and taking full advantage of Callie being down for a nap. However, you frown, reading his message, not understanding why he’s stating the obvious. You were there when she asked for the iPad and when she returned it after the call was finished.

You: I’m aware….

Joe: No. After that.

Your eyebrows arch together, confused.

You: What? when?

Joe: It was 11 my time, so 9 yours.

You gasp, typing away, wondering how the hell she snuck in your room and managed a whole ass Facetime call without you hearing shit. Were you really that damn exhausted?

You: What the hell was she doing up at 9? What did she say? No wonder she was crabby this morning.

Joe: She said she couldn’t sleep.

You: A bad dream?

Joe: Naw, said you got into an argument with someone named Amir earlier that day and didn’t want to bother you….I think it was bothering her.

Your stomach twists at that. You had a feeling she’d overheard the incident with Amir, but you prayed that you were wrong. Clearly, you weren’t.

Joe: Who is Amir?

You pause at Joe’s question. Why is he asking this? What business of his is Amir? Irritation washes over you, but is waned by realizing he’s probably asking because of Callie. As her father, he has a right to know if you’re with someone, because for all he knows that someone could be around his daughter.

You really are trying with this co-parenting thing.

You: A lot of things. A pain in the ass being the most recent one.

You: We dated in high school and college on and off. He’s the basketball coach at our local high school.

It’s more information than probably what’s necessary, but there’s this small, conflicting part of you that wants him to know you have no ties to Amir. That there are no feelings there and haven’t been for literal years.

That you’re not with Amir.

Joe: Are you dating him again? Why were you arguing around Callie?

The interrogating is getting old, but you’re trying to play nice. Coparent peacefully. His delivery is off, but he has valid questions.

Sorta.

You: No. We just….we fuck around from time to time. He tries to make it more than what it is. Was about that.

You: I was waiting for her to be released from pre-school, and he picks up his nephew for his sister. It just happened, and I didn’t know/mean for her to hear.

Honestly, you’re more worried and concerned about Callie and how to approach this with her without making her feel like she was in trouble. Yes, she knows damn well she shouldn’t be on the iPad that late at night, but can you really be mad at her for talking to her dad about something that upset her?

Joe: You bring him around her?

You absolutely can be mad though at her dad who’s about to make you cuss him out next too. All of the questions are becoming too much. He gets to be concerned, but he doesn’t get to micromanage and invade.

Feeling petty and recalcitrant, you type out a reply that you should probably think twice before sending.

But fuck it.

You: No. I only ride his dick at his place. 🙂

There’s a small ounce of regret for being so crude, but not a whole lot. He knows how you are, or he should, at least.

To some extent.

But your phone rings again, and you find yourself staring mouth agape at his reply.

Joe: You may ride his dick, but you had my kid. Clearly, only one of us knows how to please you.

Your face is burning hot, and you hate how you shift in your seat. Why the fuck would he say that? You want to say it’s inappropriate, but you also opened this door.

Is he entirely wrong?

Slapping away that wild ass thought, you focus on the real conversation at hand here. It takes a couple of rewrites before you ultimately decide to change the subject.

You: I’ve never bought any man around her and never will that’s not you, if that’s what you’re asking.

You’re grateful to see he’s also agreeing to change the subject.

Joe: It is. Thank you.

Rolling your eyes, you send a text back, getting back to being annoyed at his 21 Questions. This is a two-way street, and since he’s opened this door, why not?

You: You know that goes both ways though. I don’t want her around any bitches.

Joe: Seriously?

Joe: There’s no one for me to bring her around.

You…..you don’t know how to feel about that, don’t know how to feel about the bit of relief you feel at this message. Why should you feel relieved? Even if there was, that’s his business, and he’s allowed to….do whatever it is that he does.

It reminds you and brings you to your next topic.

You: What about your wife? We need to figure that out as well. She’s eventually going to need to know about Calista and will probably be around her at some point. I get she’s your wife, but I’m Callie’s mother, I need to be there whenever you wanna introduce Callie. I need to be involved in that process as well.

He doesn’t reply.

________

Joe doesn’t really get mad.

Not often at least and definitely not outwardly.

It’s always been his thing to never let anyone have access to that “button” that triggers his anger, and for the most part, it works well.

Except for when it comes to you.

You’ve always been able to trigger many things for him, anger being one of them.

He knows he should have spoken to you in person about the situation, or even over the phone. But with the craziness of his schedule and differing time zones, he just decided to message you, and while it didn’t go horribly, it didn’t go great. He knows you’re annoyed with him.

Hence your crudity.

Joe also refuses to admit that the thought of you fucking this kid pisses him the fuck off, even though you’re not together, even though he has no right to be upset.

But goddamn that doesn’t make him any less upset or annoyed at the thought of someone else touching you.

“Uce?” Jon asks, standing at the door before inventing himself in Joe’s locker room for this week’s Smackdown. “You ready to talk man?”

At that, Joe looks confused. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever it is that got you all worked up.” The twins have always been very perceptive, even back when they were all kids. Joe might be good at hiding his frustration from others but not them. The difference between Jon and Josh though has always been Josh has the wherewithal to not say anything.

Jon hasn’t caught on to that just yet.

“I’m fine,” Joe dismisses, hoping it’s enough to dead the conversation, even though he knows better.

“Lie detector determined that was a goddamn lie.” Jon can be pushy, but he means well, and truthfully, Joe doesn’t have a strong desire to outright shut down this conversation. A different perspective is always beneficial.

Usually.

So, he explains it all, starting with his call with Callie and ending with the text exchange between him and you.

“I see,” Jon nods, clearly absorbing all of this information. Finally, he concludes, “so you’re jealous.”

That’s the first thing to evoke a genuine laugh out of Joe since his exchange with Y/N. “I’m not jealous.”

“And I’m not a twin,” Jon dismisses. “Look, Uce, it’s obvious you still got feelings for ole girl. You ask me, I don’t think you ever got over her—”

“I didn’t ask you.”

“--Now you sitting up here annoyed cause she fucking Coach Carter nephew instead of doing something about it.” Joe rolls his eyes. “I mean have you even told her about you and J—”

“No,” he interrupts, swiftly. “Not yet, at least.”

Nodding, Jon speaks again after a minute of silence. “All I’m saying is ya’ll got the history, got the connection, got the kid too! Don’t see why you need to be letting Jesus Shuttlesworth steal your girl.”

At that, Joe chuckles. One thing his cousins will always be good for, especially Jon, is comedic relief. Even some sound advice from time to time.

“Thanks.”

Joe is, surprisingly, thankful for the equally surprising advice from his cousin. He’s not entirely sure if he’s really jealous or just overreacting for a reason he hasn’t quite uncovered, but he is starting to lean more on the side of he does still have some level of feelings for Y/N.

It’s not a complete shock. He had a feeling when he reacted so strongly to just seeing your picture. It was the whole Callie situation and finding out how you kept her from him that made his vision murky.

But, as his relationship with her strengthens, the clearer he can see.

The clearer his feelings are becoming. Now. it’s just a matter of figuring out what to do with said feelings.

And find out where you stand as well.

Joe remains quiet, thinking more and more how this might end up being an eventful trip.

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns #roman reigns fic #black writers #arisnotebook

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choso-ish · 10 hours

Text

Twilight's Embrace

--Suguru Geto x gn! reader

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

. ݁ ⟡ ݁ Summary: Attempting to break through Suguru's emotional barriers turns into a reminder of the fading relationship between you both.

. ݁ ⟡ ݁ Word count: 1.2k

. ݁ ⟡ ݁ Warnings: Arguing, a bit of physical harm (slapping a hand), angst

. ݁ ⟡ ݁ A/N: This is definitely not my best, but I feel like since I want to get something out on Tumblr, I should just go ahead and post this. Didn't edit this much so if you see anything that doesn't make sense or isn't grammatically correct, no you didn't. Also, please send requests because your girl cannot think of prompts fast enough </3 thx!!

“You deserve someone better.”

The dim rays of moonlight that shone through the curtains cast an eerie sheen on his face. It allowed you to see him in a manner you never thought you would before. No student, no man; just your lover eroding into something less than human. But no, he was never human, was he? He was a Jujutsu sorcerer.

How damn long had you been ignoring all the signs? Frail arms, dark circles, greasy hair which you’d never even seen tethered before; they were all individual puzzle pieces that, when put in place, created one, coherent picture: Suguru was struggling.

When you first realized something was wrong, you tried to brush it off, knowing his workload. He wasn’t one to often talk about his personal struggles, but he had mentioned frequently how he was less than fond of his curse consumption. You didn’t blame him. You just wish you had caught the difference between a bad few days, a bad few weeks, even, and a change that was devouring the man you loved whole.

Confrontation was more difficult than you had originally anticipated. You pointed all the signs out to him with worry yet coherence, trying to ensure that he wouldn’t brush you off or create a lousy excuse for himself.

However rejection, him casually slipping into conversation that he wasn’t the one meant for you – that was the last thing you expected.

You lived off him like a drug, as he did with you. You both knew it, you both experienced it every day, in small ways. Quiet showers holding each other under the hot water, intimate eye contact before tender kisses, stupid conversations while trying to fall asleep as he brushed the hair out of your face; they were minute, but they were things you never had done and never would do with anyone else – you were sure of it.

So where was this all coming from?

“...I don’t understand.” you murmured after a pregnant pause, unknowing of what to say or how to feel. Waves of your emotions rolled back, deserting the abyss of sand below. “No, I don't deserve anyone else. I really don’t get where this is coming from.” a small, nervous laugh left lips as you added: “I love you, and I know you love me, too.”

He ran a hand through his scalp of straggly hair, a sharp exhale resounding throughout the room. “Yeah, I do.” His expression was so cold that he looked like one of the marble sculptures you’d admire in museums together, completely lifeless and unchanging. HIs jaw flexed, clenching tightly.

“And?” you questioned after a few moments of silence, waiting for him to elaborate. His unresponsiveness was more than unnerving.

“And?” Suguru echoed, lips pressing together firmly. His body language was that of a man who had given up trying to find peace – he acted reserved but was so open about his cold, emptiness. How long had it been so bad? Your eyebrows furrowed, the annoyance in your veins starting to boil up into something a bit hotter than you’d prefer.

“What do you mean, ‘and?’ Look,” you sigh, trying to calm yourself. Be considerate of how he’s been feeling. Don’t go over the top and worsen the situation.

“I need you to open up to me, Suguru. Stuff has been off with you for days, even weeks. I haven’t heard about school aside from your casual ‘it’s going well,’ and it’s actually concerning the shit out of me. You’re off.” you frown, but your expression quickly softens again. “What’s up with you? Talk to me,” you pause. “Please.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, and wanted to break the shell and just spill his all out to you. You saw it reflected in his expression, and it gave you a flicker of hope, too.

But he couldn’t open up, not right now. So instead, as usual, he chose to deflect.

“I’m fine.” he replied dryly.

You wanted to rip your hair out.

“No you aren’t,” you retorted. “You aren’t and it’s so fucking obvious. You can even see it just looking at you. I’m tired of you saying it’s not how it is, because I know you. And last night, Satoru told me that you didn’t go out to dinner with him and the others. You never ditch, so don’t even try to act like I’m stupid enough to let this slide.” you warn.

“Satoru told you that?” his muscles tensed, followed by a long pause.

“I just needed some time alone, that’s all. What’s so wrong with that?” the ice in his voice cracked.

“But why did you need time alone?” you push, your desperation becoming more apparent.

“What does it matter?” He was always so damn stubborn. “It’s not like I need a reason. Sometimes, I just need to clear my head, you know?” he shot back.

The air of deception was thick enough to choke on.

You let out a deep sigh, resting your head in your hand before patting the spot on the bed next to you. “Suguru, I’m dead serious, just come here and let’s–”

“-Let’s what?” your head quickly raised to meet his eyes from across the room. He had never looked at you like that, or even used that tone. He knew you knew something was wrong, that was mutual. He was just downright refusing at this point.

“Let’s talk?” he scowls. “Not everything regards you right now, y/n. I’m allowed to have my own issues, and I’m allowed to keep them to myself.”

“But I’m your partner, and we’re supposed to share things that’s going on so we can help each other.”, you tighten your lips, approaching him carefully and reaching out to grab his hand. “Come on, just help me out. Help yourself out and–”

You're stopped short for the second time as he smacks your hand away, eyebrows furrowed almost menacingly. He would never get physical with you, even in your wildest nightmares. You thought that he shared those same morals and fears about hurting you, too.

Maybe he did, until now. You preferred to think it was just a bad moment.

His facial muscles relax, almost in shock of himself, as he makes sense of both your expression and his actions from moments prior. He stares at you vacantly before turning his head away, pressing his nails into his palms.

You could've sworn that the pressure he was using was enough to draw blood.

"I'm sorry," he murmured quietly, bringing his palm up to his jaw and running his fingers along his cheeks. He released a long sigh and closed his eyes. It was rare for him to say anything in acknowledgment of his ill deeds, so you knew he meant it this time.

However, the apology was far from soothing, and failed to alleviate your shock or sense of discomfort. It was as if a numbness rushed through you; his sudden actions were so out of character for him that you almost felt sick.

He carefully approached the foyer and opened the door. His eyes caught yours for a brief second before he looked away. You heard the click of the wood shutting in place as he exited, creating a rift between the two of you that you were sure would take more than you could provide to bridge.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding in, sat down on the bed with a glazed expression, and cried.

How swiftly it had become yet another night with only the moon offering its consolation.

likes/reblogs/comments are more than appreciated! thank you so much for reading to the end on my first post :D

#jjk x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru angst #suguru geto angst #jjk angst #jjk x reader angst #geto angst #choso-ish #jujustu kaisen

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rafeownsriley · 1 day

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warnings : none i’d say, just rafe and reader are kissing at the start, but this is a soft story :)

pairing : fratboy!rafe x soft!reader

summary : rafe’s younger sister, wheezie, accidently caught rafe and reader kissing

p.s : this is my first tumblr story ever so i hope you will like it :)

you were sitting on rafe’s lap, his palms roaming over your back as your mouths were touching softly, moving in a slow rhythm.

your palms were slowly caressing his cheeks, as you two were kissing for like a solid 5 minutes.

after a while you both heard the door of rafe’s room opening, which made you look in that direction. your palms slid down on rafe’s shoulders.

,,hey rafe have you-“ wheezie’s words trailed off after she saw you and rafe. a smile appeared on her face and she chuckled a little.

,,what were you two planning to do?” wheezie’s smile remained on her face.

,,shut up, wheezie.” rafe quickly responded, right after his sister stopped talking. meanwhile you were still on his lap, your palms now on his chest.

,,what do you want?” rafe sounded mad, well obviously since wheezie ruined his and yours intimate moment. he ran his fingers throught his hair.

,,i wanted to ask if you’ve seen my charger, i haven’t seen it since yesterday.” wheezie said as she kept chuckling, clearly aware of rafe’s nervousness, mixed up with annoyance.

,,no i haven’t seen it, now get out.” he was staring at wheezie.

you were staring at rafe most of the time, watching his reaction to this situation. you were actually curious how he’d react to a situation like that and when you saw him, actually blushing lightly, running his fingers throught his hair nervously.. you couldn’t help but smile softly.

,,jeez calm down, i just wanted to ask.” wheezie chuckled before she left his room. rafe then sighed and ran his fingers throught his hair once again.

you were staring at him, before you spoke up. ,,you good?” you kept smiling, slowly and softly caressing his chest.

rafe just nodded, as he kept staring away from you. you placed your palm on his cheek, gently moving his head back so you could see his face.

,,are you blushing?” you asked him with a soft light chuckle. he made you let go of him, so he could stand up.

,,no i’m not.” he responded as he stood next to his bed, with his back towards you, rubbing the back of his neck.

you couldn’t help but keep chuckling softly. “oh i think you are, sweetheart. but look, there’s nothing to worry about, we weren’t even doing anything.”

rafe kept rubbing the back of his neck, pacing around his room. ,,yeah, but like she’s seen us anyways.”

you smiled at him, before speaking up softly. “you’ve never been caught before?” you moved on the edge of his bed, staring at him, walking around the room.

rafe just shaked his head. you thought his reaction is so cute, but you were also surprised by it.

,,oh come on, you don’t have to feel.. nervous or something. we were just kissing, it’s not a big deal.” you walked towards him, placing your palms on his shoulders again, which made him stop walking around the room and actually pay more attention to you.

you smiled even more when you had the perfect view of his red cheeks. you placed your palms on them, slowly caressing them.

#obx fic #outer banks #obx #rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #soft rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe fic #rafe imagine #soft girl #soft stuff #big softie #cute #couple #pairings #viralpost #blow up

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natrogersfics · 2 days

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The Anthology - Chapter 2: Fortnight

Artwork by @faith2nyc Read on AO3

Did you have an early call-time that I missed? Haven’t heard from you all day. Getting a little worried… Nat, where are you? Please answer the phone.

She’s not a morning person.

Of all the things Steve knows about Natasha Romanoff, that’s one fact he’s certain he can bet his life on. It’s why waking up to an empty bed yesterday was such a jarring experience, especially since he’ll be hard-pressed to pinpoint the last time it happened. And as he looks down at his phone, reading through all his texts to her that have gone unanswered, he can only run a hand wearily over his face.

Natasha had been an enigma from the very moment he’d met her on the set of The Avengers years ago. He had heard a lot about his first-time costar, sure – it was hard not to know of the prodigious child actor who would eventually go on to become box office royalty in no time at all. But with the limited amount of screentime they shared then, it’s not as though he’d gotten the chance to get to know her. It's for that reason that he had jumped at the opportunity when, after their first table read for The Winter Soldier, their directors had suggested that they spend time together outside of set.

It wouldn’t be hyperbolic to say that getting to know Natasha has been profound in every aspect. Nevertheless, it hadn’t been an easy process. Despite her vast body of work and the many stories the media has written, speculating untruthfully about her life more often than not as he would learn, the mysterious and seemingly impenetrable aura about her that intrigued so many remained. It’s only through their late-night conversations, often seated on the floor of their temporary living rooms and a bottle of whatever they could find passed between them, that he had finally come to realize that her mystique is all to do with all the armor she carries. Armor that, despite how ruthless this business is, has allowed her to survive. To thrive. The concept was foreign to him, of course. He’s an open book, has been from the very first time he entered the industry and donned the glimmering shield of Captain America. But that too was a privilege, he had found out. While he’s made some mistakes along the way, none of them have been heightened, underscored, and thrown back at him at lightspeed quite like hers have.

In all honesty, he’s still not sure what he did to deserve to see what’s underneath all her sacred protection. To get a glimpse into just how heavy and exhausting it is to have to constantly carry it around. Even so, he’s glad to have the honor. For as grim a sight as it can be, mixed in with all the pain and loneliness are also the most beautiful parts of her that very few get to see. To the rest of the world, Natasha Romanoff is the captivating bombshell on their magazine covers. The striking, perfect face and the husky, seductive voice behind some of the most alluring characters to grace the big screen. And yes, he sees those facets of her, too. But beyond that, Natasha to him is the epitome of what it is to be beautifully human. She has loved. She has lost. She’s made mistakes and made them again. And while she’s not always afforded the same time and space to learn from her missteps as others, she’s always risen from the ashes – even if that’s meant she’s had to keep her heart under lock and key.

The last thought elicits a sigh from him. She rarely speaks about her past, but he didn’t need to hear the entire story to know that she’s had her heart eviscerated enough times to last her a lifetime. And it’s not as though her heart is something he expects of her now. He wasn’t expecting anything at all when they had fallen into… whatever this thing between them is now. But he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t felt something shift. Almost as if their touches have lingered, their kisses growing hungrier in the absence of their ability to speak the words. He can’t help but wonder if she had felt that, too. If that’s the reason she felt the need to run away from the warmth of his bed that morning.

The need for clarity cuts through him like a blade through the softest of flesh, and he finds himself reaching for his phone once more. “Natasha,” he all but pleads when his call goes straight to voicemail. “Please talk to me.”

A gasp falls from Widow’s lips as her back hits the wall. Before her, Captain America stares her down, his eyes blazing with fury. “Where is it?”

“Safe,” she says practically through gritted teeth.

“Do better!”

Her eyes narrow. “Where did you get it?”

“Why would I tell you?”

“Fury gave it to you. Why?”

“What's on it?”

“I don't know.”

Unconvinced, Captain America’s grip on her arms tightens. “Stop lying!”

“I only act like I know everything, Cap.”

“I bet you knew Fury hired the pirates, didn't you?”

“Well, it makes sense,” she acquiesces. “The ship was dirty, Fury needed a way in, so do you.”

“I'm not gonna ask you again,” he hisses.

“I know who killed Fury,” she whispers, prompting his hold on her to loosen. “Most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists, the ones who do call him the Winter Soldier. He's credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years.”

“So he's a ghost story,” he concludes.

“Five years ago, I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran. Somebody shot out my tires near Odessa. We lost control, went straight over a cliff, I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering my engineer, so he shot him straight through me…” She pulls up her shirt to show him the scar on the side of her stomach. “Soviet slug, no rifling.” She lets her lips curl into the slightest of smirks. “Bye-bye bikinis.”

“Yeah,” he deadpans. “I bet you look terrible in them now.”

“And cut!”

Natasha would never show it, but for the first time since her day started, it’s as though she can finally catch her breath as she steps away from Steve to look at the men behind the camera. “Did you want us to go again?”

“No, we’re good,” Joe, one-half of their directing duo, says. “We got the take.”

“That’s a wrap for you two today,” Anthony chimes in.

She doesn’t argue, and despite feeling Steve’s gaze heavy on her, she doesn’t dare look his way as she nods at both directors and makes a beeline for her trailer. She’s halfway there when she hears hurried footfalls behind her.

“Natasha,” Steve calls out, but she keeps walking. His voice grows louder. “Natasha, wait!”

“What do you want, Steve?” she asks as she whips around, crossing her hands over her chest. The question comes out harsher than she’d intended, and she regrets it immediately when she sees the hurt flash in his eyes.

“What do I want?” he says, expression incredulous. “Nat, I haven’t heard from you in days, and now you can’t get away from me fast enough.” He takes a step towards her, leaving mere inches between them. “Did I do something wrong?”

She looks away from him at that. She’s read his every text. Listened to every voicemail he’s left her, and then listened to it again. And now, as she stands before him, hearing the agony in his voice up close and personal, she wants nothing more than to tell him the truth. To let him know that this is killing her, too.

As his question hangs in the air between them, she feels his hand encircle her wrist. “Natasha,” he whispers, running his thumb gently over her tripping pulse. “Baby, I-”

Her head snaps to him then. He’s never called her that, at least not outside the safety of either of their beds, that, coupled with the concern thick in his stare, she feels her restraint begin to waver like a house of cards in a gust of wind.

No.

She yanks her hand away and out of his touch, shaking her head. “I have nothing to say to you.”

As she walks away, she keeps her eyes downturned, certain that another glance at him will all but make her resolve crumble. It’s only when she’s finally in the solace of her trailer that she leans her back against the door, bringing her hands to her face. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

#Romanogers #The Anthology #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #Captain America #Black Widow #Hollywood AU #Movie Star AU #Fortnight #steve x natasha

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