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sorchathered · 15 days

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You’re still the one💙

Pairing- Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader

Warnings- language, a little bit smutty, angst with lots of pining and longing.

Summary- Bob’s come back to his small town in Georgia for his best friends wedding, will their plan to bring him back together with his high school sweetheart work out? Or will it end in more heartache?

When Bob had gotten the wedding invite in the mail he’d been so thrilled, truly. His best friend Sam had done the impossible, made the long distance work through college and grad school and now finally he was marrying his high school sweetheart Millie. He was happy for them, really he was. The only thing that could’ve been better is if he was sharing this with you. This was supposed to be the two of you, conquering your goals and then winding up together, but it hadn’t worked out the way either of you planned and it had been longer than Bob knew since he’d seen your face.

Millie had asked if your old band from high school would reunite for the wedding music and you’d been over the moon, a few of you had continued to play together and occasionally doing a gig or two just for old times sake, knowing that she wanted you involved in her special day made your heart swell.

The closer the date got the more dread seemed to settle in your bones, you’d stalked Bob’s socials and sneakily asked if he was bringing a date, but the look Sam had given you when he said Bob was coming alone let you know he knew exactly what you were hoping. Maybe he didn’t have someone waiting for him in California, maybe he had even asked about you, and for the first time in almost 6 years you let yourself hope.

In his lonely little apartment in Coronado Robert Floyd was doing about as well as you. He’d thought of nothing but you since that invitation showed up in his mail, hell that was a lie; he spent most nights thinking of you if he was truly honest with himself. He was sure Sam and Millie were already plotting some elaborate scheme to push the two of you together over the wedding celebration and he had to laugh at their dedication. He still wasn’t sure how things had gotten so screwed up. Long distance had been hard, deployments, work schedules and midterms seemed to keep the two of you from ever being able to make concrete plans and eventually it felt like you two had just grown apart too much for repair.

He should’ve fought harder, any attempts to move on over the years had been a complete disaster because how was he supposed to find someone new when he was still hung up on you? Natasha always loved to pick on him about it, that one day he’d have to move on or would have to have his “rom com moment” as she called it and sweep you back off your feet but Bob figured you’d long forgotten about him by now. If he only knew that you’d been just as hung up as he was, but neither of you had been brave enough to reach out.

The wedding festivities were in full swing this week, Millie had sent you the final list of songs she wanted for the wedding and you had added a few crowd favorites as well. You missed the days of jamming with your friends, being a music teacher was so rewarding and it had been everything you’d dreamed it would be, but you couldn’t deny that you were looking forward to getting to let loose with old friends.

You were in full nostalgia mode by the time the weekend of the wedding, thinking of all the things you’d had planned for yourself way back when. You’d had your whole wedding planned out, you knew it had been silly but you’d dreamed of a party with all your friends and at the center of it the boy you’d loved since you were a little girl. Deep in the recesses of your parents attic was a hot pink sparkly notebook from senior year with a list of songs you wanted for your own wedding day, gel pen rainbow font with little cursive scribbles of Mrs. Robert Floyd and hearts doodled all over the page. But that had been another lifetime ago, and just the thought of how much time had changed you both brought tears to your eyes.

Bob was so glad to be back home, it had been ages, his mother was already fussing about how he needed to eat more and catching him up on all the town gossip. He wanted to ask about you, but she beat him to the punch; gushing about the musical the middle school was putting on and how hard you were working to make it a success. It looked like all your dreams had come true, you were doing what you loved, but his mama could see the far off look in his eyes as she spoke, she knew all too well what he was feeling.

“You should call her you know, I have her number if you want it.” She’d said softly as she touched his hand but he couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Oh Mama, too much time has passed, I’m sure she’s got someone who could treat her way better than me.” She patted his hand lovingly and shook her head, “Sweet boy, there were never two people better suited for one another than the two of you. I don’t think she ever moved on, I know you didn’t. You know…she lives in the old Macon house on Water Road, not too far if you wanted to take a walk.”

“Mama! “ he said harshly but his features didn’t match his tone at all, he was trying his best not to laugh at her persistence.

She put her hands up and laughed, “I’m just saying, the night air might do you some good. After all life is too short sweetheart.” He thought of his father, taken from them too soon and how his mother had never found anyone else. He’s been her everything, Bob had always thought that would be the same with the two of you.

She heads up for the evening and he’s left alone with his thoughts again. Her house isn’t that far, maybe 5 minutes, and it’s only 8 pm on a Friday she would probably still be awake…

Before he can really mull it over he’s slipping on his shoes and heading out the door, feet carrying him down the sidewalks and past the quaint antebellum style houses illuminated in the orange glow of the street lights until he finds himself at your door. He’s warring with himself about knocking, what the hell was he doing? He’d barely spoken to you in almost 6 years, this was stupid he should’ve never done this. As he turns away to walk down the porch steps he hears the lock click and turning of the door handle, light illuminating the porch as you poke your head out into the night.

“Robby? Is that you?” You say quietly, a small smile on your lips as you look him over with eager eyes. Time had been good to you, he’d always thought you were the most beautiful girl on earth and that certainly hadn’t changed. You weren’t a young girl anymore, your figure was all curves, he couldn’t help but tighten his fists thinking about running his hands over your voluptuous body. Snap out of it Floyd, get your shit together, he thought as you looked at him with confusion evident on your face.

“Well? You gonna come in? Your mama told me you were coming by, I’ve just been sitting by the window listening out for you.” You said as you opened the door a little wider for him to step through. “Of course she did” he muttered, shaking his head with a dark chuckle, leave it to Susan Floyd to take things into her own hands.

You raised an eyebrow at him as he continued to stand awkwardly in the doorway, “I can’t really read your faces anymore Floyd, do you want to come in or are we gonna let all the bugs into my house tonight?” Hands on your hips, sassy remark, yep you were still every bit the spitfire he remembered, that take no shit attitude clearly hadn’t gone anywhere.

“Yeah, yeah y/n I was coming by, sorry I just…I had an idea in my head of what I was gonna say and now here I am and I’ve got nothing.” He said sheepishly as he ran a hand over the back of his neck. You reached for the hand at his side and pulled him through the doorway, closing the door and scooting him in the direction of the couch. Bossy. As always.

“How about I get you a glass of sweet tea and we get all the awkward small talk out of the way, or we could just skip it if you want? I’ve been keeping up with your life through your mom but if you’ve got questions I’m happy to answer them.” You said as you shuffled down the hall to the little kitchen, Bob plopping himself down on your ridiculously comfy velvet couch. “You keep up with me?” He said in shock, he never would’ve thought you’d give him a second thought after he let everything crash and burn, maybe his mama had been right to push him this way.

“Of course I do, it’s not every day you get to be in the top 1% in your field, especially with a job like yours. I’ve always cheered you on, just didn’t think you’d ever show up here, kinda figured you’d forgotten all about me.” You said as you placed down a Mason jar of sweet tea and a tin of shortbread cookies, you’d said it so nonchalantly but he could see in your eyes the hurt was still there.

“I’ve kept up with you too, I- uh I’ve looked at your instagram, and Millie of course updates me when I ask, even if she is still pissed at me about how things ended. You uh- you look like you got everything you wanted in your career too. Mama said the school play is gonna be a big success. I know you’ve gotta be thrilled.”

You nodded, just bringing up your students brought the light back into your eyes. “They are the best, I thought it’d be weird teaching at our old school but truly it is such a joy. These kids love music, it’s so much fun watching them show off their creativity. And as for Millie…Well I’m pretty sure she and Sam have some elaborate plan to “accidentally” trap us in a closet together tomorrow until we work everything out. They’ve been oddly sneaky lately.” You laugh out, and Bob can’t help but join in, they definitely weren’t subtle but you could both agree they were damn good friends.

You both laughed and talked for hours, going through the whole tin of cookies as you caught up on each other’s lives, somewhere in the early morning hours you had fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder and Bob felt his heart stutter in his chest as he looked down at you. He’d missed this, just being with you.

You had been his favorite person for his entire childhood, how did he let things get so out of hand? It couldn’t be comfortable being propped up like that, so Bob carefully pulled you into his arms and carried you to your room. It was nearly 4 am, he would just crash on your couch like a gentleman should and make an excuse to bail when he woke up. Laying you on the bed he made to step away but you curled your fist into his shirt, murmuring “stay with me” as you pulled him closer, and how could he possibly tell you no? He toed off his shoes and slid in next to you, falling asleep to the sounds of your breathing and warm body pressed to his.

He couldn’t place where he was when he woke up, just that it smelled like coffee and pancakes and somehow he’d slept in. Upon opening his eyes it all came back to him, how you’d asked him to stay and he’d fallen asleep in your arms, he felt hot all over just thinking about it, anxiety filling his chest as he worried about how to navigate the sure to be awkward morning after conversation. Again he wondered how they’d gotten so far from where they’d begun; but one thing hadn’t changed, holding you had simply brought it all back. The feelings he had never wavered, and he was fairly sure he was even more smitten with you now after catching up than he had been before.

You were dancing around in the kitchen as you cooked, spatula acting as a microphone while Fleetwood Mac played from your phone. Clad in a tattered t-shirt and pajama shorts from the night before with your hair messily piled on your head. There was that feeling again, the heat blooming in his chest and the butterflies he’d never felt for anyone but you. It nearly knocked the wind out of him. You couldn’t be more beautiful to him than you were in this moment, he wished he could burn it into his brain forever.

You spun around to the beat but jumped almost a foot in the air when you noticed him, clutching your chest as giggles erupted from you both. “Oh! Oh my god Robby you scared the hell out of me! Did’ya sleep ok? Want breakfast?” You said gesturing behind you to the steaming pile of pancakes and bacon, he wanted breakfast for sure but he knew one thing he wanted more than that.

He crowded you up against the stove, leaning behind you to cut the burner off as he looked down at you with a small smile. “Breakfast sounds good, sweet girl, but we need to talk first.”

“Uh huh” you said and he could tell he had the same dizzying effect on you, that was good, he was hoping this wasn’t one sided.

“I had more fun with you last night than I’ve had in years, and I can’t think of why we ever stopped doing this in the first place. Well a reason that actually counts anyways. I know it’s sudden, hell you probably have a line out the door hoping for a date but-“

“Yes!” You blurted out, nodding your head as you abandoned the spatula and gripped the back of his neck to pull his lips to yours.

You’d meant it to be sweet, just a peck to let him know you wanted the same things he did, but it had been so long, and no one had ever made you feel like he did. It got heated fast, muscular arms wrapped around your waist pulling you in so tight that nothing to get between you, hands in his hair as his kisses became more urgent, opening his mouth to you as you moaned softly into his, and the noise seemed to flip a switch as he hoisted you up in his arms and carried you back down the hall to your bedroom.

It was as sweet and smooth as molasses, he unwrapped you like a present as you tugged at his clothes, you wanted him as bare as you were. He eagerly obliged, tossing his shirt and jeans somewhere across your room as he climbed back into bed and pressed you into the mattress.

“Y/n I-“

“I know baby, I feel it too. Make love to me Robby.”

And so he did, again and again until the two of you felt boneless, breakfast long forgotten and morning seeping into early afternoon.

You’d fallen asleep in his arms around one, and he knew he’d have to wake you up soon to get ready for the wedding and go home to get his suit. He just wanted to stay wrapped up in this a little longer, as much as he needed this to be real again he also knew there was so much red tape. You lived on the opposite coast from him, your career was thriving and you’d never moved away from home. He couldn’t ask you to pack away your life and move every 3-4 years with him. Distance had been what broke you apart last time, he didn’t know if he could bear losing you a second time.

When you finally stirred around 2 you popped up in a panic, you were alone in bed and it was clearly later in the day than you had expected it to be. A sick feeling washed over you, had you interpreted everything wrong? Where was he? Did he regret it and bail?

The sound of a door opening broke you from your thoughts, heavy footfalls down the hallway let you know he hadn’t actually left. He caught your watery eyes looking at him from the doorway and rushed forward to cradle you in his arms, swiping at the tears before they could fall.

“What’s going on it that head of yours? You ok?” He said as he rubbed soothing hands against your back.

“It’s stupid, I woke up alone and I thought..” you stopped and then looked up at him sheepishly. “I thought you’d left” you said with a whisper, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.

“Oh. Aw Shit. I mean I did leave, but for just a minute to grab us some lunch and my suit for tonight, I’m sorry baby I should’ve left a note.” He looked a little embarrassed as well, he was very clearly out of practice when it came to having a partner.

“Ugh, we’re a mess aren’t we?” You chuckled out as you buried your head in his neck, he just nodded as he continued to hold you, he still didn’t know what this was but god he didn’t want to lose it.

“We probably need to figure all of this out y/n, I don’t want to pop the bubble but I can’t shut my brain off. I want this, all of it with you. I’m scared I’m gonna ruin it again.” He was grateful that you couldn’t see his face, he didn’t know if he could keep himself from falling apart if you could.

“We’ll do whatever it takes.” You pulled back to cup his cheeks so he was looking in your eyes. “We were young and stupid back then, but we can do this now. I know we can. If I have to pack up and head to California I will, I’m not saying it won’t be hard but it’s worth it.”

He fucked you slow and steady under the hot spray of the shower after that, worshipping every bit of you and definitely making you both late.

The two of you scrambled to get to the venue, making it right on time, Sam giving Bob a knowing look at his disheveled appearance when he burst into the groom's suite. When you stopped into the bridal suite to check on Millie, she made sure to pick on you for the hickey you’d tried to hide under your ear. Clearly the plan had worked, maybe not how they’d thought but the result was what they were after. You’d have to send his Mama flowers on Monday for her meddling, she’d known what was best even when the two of you didn’t.

The ceremony was beautiful, full of tears and love and Bob couldn’t help but let his eyes drift over to you, he already had plans swirling in his head of wedding rings and a future he’d thought was long lost. After you sang for the reception the band took over and Bob twirled you around the dance floor for much of the evening, he would hold these moments close until he could get you back in his arms again. It had been the perfect weekend.

A few months later you both were carrying moving boxes into his little townhouse, a new job all lined up at the local middle school and the entire summer to spend by the beach with your boyfriend. Everything had fallen into place, and if the little ring box in Bob’s back pocket had anything to do with it, he’d soon be calling you Mrs. Floyd.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman @bobgasm @sailor-aviator @roosterforme @sebsxphia @floydsglasses @sarahsmi13s @bradshawssugarbaby @hangmansgbaby

#top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd x you

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fauustic · 10 months

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protective miguel o'hara drabble

you didn't hear this from me but i'm making a miguel series and its taking a lot longer than i thought (first chapter already is pushing 10k words sheesh..) and i'm having possessive miguel thoughts so i needed to GET THIS OUT OF MY SYSTEM...

If Miguel had his own way outside the Spider Society and all that, he would have Lyla escort you to and from wherever your errands took you under the guise of "needing company," or as an extra precaution of staying safe.

In reality, Miguel is an anxious man. He wants to keep everything that could possibly go wrong at bay, always trying to stay five steps ahead of whatever could possibly happen. So when he comes to find out that someone had hit on you as you were out with friends, he was livid.

Of course the one time you're not wrapped in his own embrace or cuddled up in the side of his hip one late night, someone tries to take the opportunity of seeing you all alone and a little bit vulnerable, tipsy and stumbling against the arm of your friend-- contorted in a way that would have been uncomfortable if you hadn't downed a couple drinks hours before.

You had let it slip when calling him, all giggly and oblivious to the world from being a lightweight. "Migs," you had murmured into the crook of your neck, cradling the phone that let out little chuckles from your boyfriend. He's still not used to seeing you drunk, the neither of you were really big drinkers unless you were celebrating something for work or you had been roped into a socialite outing from Miguel's position at Alchemax. The Spider Society never really had anything worth going out to drink for, or maybe Miguel just never wants to hang around them too frequently. His mood always changes whenever he brings up what he does, so you haven't brought yourself to pry any more.

His tone was lax, if not a little awake. You assumed he was driving through the midnight traffic once he heard the words, "I miss you, I'm ready to come home." And Miguel always requests for you to stay on the phone with him until he sees you, until you're swallowed into a hug that threatens to crack your back because he hasn't seen you all day and he's a bit desperate for your warmth.

"What is it, mi alma?" His voice met your ears in that playful, tired way whenever Miguel catches on that blissful, drunk tone of yours's. Raspy with a hint of sleep as if he's been trying to stay awake for you despite being exhausted after a few days of little rest. You would have felt bad for keeping him awake at a time like this had you not been thinking hazily, but deep down you know he couldn't sleep without you either.

Another giggle hissed through your dopey, toothy smile. Your happiness must be contagious because you could hear his own curl of his lips when he encouraged you to spill your thoughts for a second time when you left him hanging.

"You wouldn't believe what happened tonight, baby," you slurred into the receiver and he hummed. Your ass met the concrete hard when your legs suddenly felt like jelly, the dim street lights casting a soft ambience on the side of the bar. You only felt a little vulnerable when you found yourself alone on the phone with the little reminder that your lover is still on the road. "This, this stranger tried to make a move on me. A move!" You babbled as if it was the most surprising thing in the world, "And it's so crazy because I was like, heaving over the table like my last mixed drink was about to send me over the edge. I was not at my best."

The gentle chuckles on the other end came to a halt as soon as you brought up someone else, a stranger who you didn't even remember the name of. Miguel's quietness never caught your attention as you continued rambling on about it in your drunken state, holding your free hand to your forehead to try and stay upright against the wall of the bar.

"And, obviously I was like, 'ew, who the fuck are you? I have a boyfriend-'" You had mocked yourself in exaggeration, and when you heard Miguel's stiff huff of laughter on the other end you couldn't help but laugh in blissful unawareness. "But they wouldn't shut up and even had the audacity to pull me up towards them,"

Miguel had interrupted you this time around, an eerie atmosphere to his tone. Cold, a little distant. It put your hazy mind on edge, though he would never do anything to you. "Who was this.." He paused for a moment, and you could see the hand signals he would conjure when trying to find the word for something. "Stranger? This person?"

You caught your breath when he mentioned he was minutes away now before you answered his question, a warmth settling over your chest at the inevitable entanglement of limbs the moment you find yourself face-to-face with Miguel.

"Ah, some.." Your brows scrunched, trying to remember where the mysterious flirt was from until you realized it was a work party. "Co-worker, different department, obvious prick. Hated the way he spoke to me, was trying to explain some stupid shit at work that I obviously knew how to do."

"Love," He practically cooed into his phone, and you could see the way he shakes his head in both adoration and disbelief whenever Miguel uses such a gentle pet name. Such a simple one, but the way he looks at you as if you're the entire world and more rivals whatever paragraphs he could possibly write to express his feelings for you. "I need a name,"

"You do not need a name, Migs." You laughed, and you could hear the whiney scoff of his when you caught onto his antics despite being drunk. "That worries me. I don't need you getting hurt." And you swear you could hear a small whimper, the gentleness you give him causes his insides to twist and turn painfully. Always in a tunnel of self-depreciation, he tries his best to accept the sweetness oozing from your lips, but Miguel can't help but admit he's still not used to it.

Miguel knows he isn't perfect, the insecurities flow from his exhausted tongue frequently when he's surrounded with your touch and presence every night. But when he hears you off-handedly mention how someone tried to take you away in the unknown of their home, something inside him cracks just a little bit more whenever a situation like this arises.

"Baby," By each passing moment he stayed quiet, you felt yourself sobering up. Your worst days was whenever Miguel needed space from you for whatever took ahold of his mind, those nasty thoughts that tell him something differently than what you embed within his very being. If this conversation triggered something, you would respect it without a second thought-- but the idea of being without Miguel after such a taxing week had you hold back the emotions threatening to bombard your delicate state of mind. "Migs-- Miguel, what's wrong baby? Why aren't you talking, honey?" You pleaded into your phone, briefly checking to see if you had accidentally hung up.

"Fuck," you murmured to yourself, your phone falling to your side as your other hand met the bridge of your nose- a habit you've developed from the one you love. What a silly thing.

A car door sounded throughout the humid night air nearby, and you brushed it off as another person consumed by the nightlife. Probably going to down a couple beers to forget, is what your muddled brain distractedly made up to try and stop yourself from crying. Swiping at your cheek with a pathetic feeling pooling in the bottom of your stomach, you weren't sure whether the wetness meeting the pads of your finger-tips was the fog or tears dripping off your lashes.

Your name rings throughout traffic lights and bustling cars like a prayer, boots crunching pavement until pristine-white etched with red met tears cascading onto the curb. The breath you were close to being choked up on was caught in your throat as the calm he desperately tried to exude cracked the moment he caught the cries slipping from your skin.

You unraveled your posture, straightening your neck up to meet his gaze. Miguel didn't hesitate to drop to his knees and take you into his arms as if he was a child hugging a stuffed animal. His nose met the crook of your neck and he breathed in deeply, as if he had taken a moment longer to get here you would had slip away from him- fading into the city streets like a ghost.

"Why didn't you respond?" You practically whined in his shoulder, immature and woozy from the tipsy still lingering. He only held onto you tighter, scooping you up into his arms like you were the most fragile thing in the world.

He mumbled into your hair as you returned the hug and closed your eyes, drawing into a comfortable lull from the safety of his embrace.

"What was that?" A genuine question, you couldn't hear his grumble with his mouth full of your hair. But he only scoffed, and leaned down to brush his canines against the shell of your ear, sharp yet feathery. The contrast was like a bucket of iced water dipped over you, shocking yourself out of that drunken fatigue. His words came out of as a whisper, hint of jealousy as well as protective concern.

"Worried sick, mi corazón. I'm not going to sleep until I know that bastard who put his hands on you," It came out less like a threat and more like a promise, softened by the plush of your curls meeting his lips in a kiss. "El muchacho necesita una lección, hmm?" A chuckle rolled off his tongue as he swung open the door to his sleek vehicle, setting you down with utmost care. Before you could protest, Miguel took the seatbelt in his hands and buckled you in himself- sweet and slow and everything he wasn't implying.

"Miguel, I don't need to be waited on hand-and-foot." You complain once his left hand found purchase on the steering wheel, all for show you assume because in the year of 2099 you had flying cars and automated driving and genetic splicing. But he was smooth, you had to give him that, as his frown kept a cheeky little smirk at bay. His free hand found comfort in the fat of your thigh, thumb stroking the fabric that hugged your figure nicely. He made no move, keeping the gesture innocent with genuine affection.

Miguel's not one to really show physical affection out of the confinements of your shared apartment, but ever since you had mentioned the threat of someone else trying to dumbly scoop you up and send you on your way alongside them- Miguel had kept close. Noticeably so.

His hand found itself snaking around your back and resting against the flesh atop your belly button, wedging you within the curve of his side. Miguel had always been the one to be a bit whiney, but when you denied him the opportunity to allow him to sink his fangs into the softness of your neck and angle of your jaw, he'd accidentally pout in an unexpectedly cute way and brood like a ruffled pigeon. You never allowed yourself to tease him about it though, or else he'd catch himself doing it and stop himself. The loss of such a cute expression donning his permanent scowl would have you in shambles.

Miguel's not exactly the worst with words per-se, he could explain the parallels of universes and what exactly makes them tick in harmony with effortless ambition-- but when he's faced with the pure adoration swimming within your irises as the both of you do the most mundane tasks; cooking and washing dishes, piled up on the couch for a movie you had dragged him to watch- Miguel would grow subtly emotional to the point he would have to stalk up behind you and engulf you with a hug, a stray tear or two meeting the ridge of your shoulder. And you'd hold his arms meeting the bridge of your ribs, whispering; "It's okay, darling. I'm here, here only for you."

And he'd kiss the blemishes upon your skin in return, a silent thank you as he nuzzles into your very being- the constant need to be as close as possible undermining the physical touch he craved so desperately from you. If he could use his claws to carve into your ribcage and take shelter next to your beating heart, maybe for once Miguel would be able to sleep easily.

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara headcanons #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara drabble

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aclowntiny · 8 months

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can you plz do first _ with yuyu for example: first kiss, first hand holding, first ily, first date, first puppy etc ><

CONGRATS BTW YKU WORKED SO HARD AND I AM SO PROUD!!!

Ooh I like this I would have never thought of that! So cute 🥺 can't wait to do this with all the members! & thank you sweetie 🥹🥰

Yunho + Firsts (Gender Neutral Reader)

(This picture gives off such out with your bf vibes 🥺)

First Date: He may have asked you out beneath beautiful blossoms, but your first date is at the zoo. He bounces like a puppy at the adorable way the baby pandas roll, holding out his phone for videos. There’s a photo op that gives you panda ears, so of course Yunho pulls you over to it for a shot! You guys probably also get matching gift shop plushies too.

First Time Holding Hands: On your first date! It’s a little step forward in affection for sure, but it feels right even though it happens by accident. It’s a bit of a run to get to the next round of aviary entrances and Yunho really wants to make it, to get a chance to feed the beautiful birds and maybe even have them land on you! In his excitement he grabs your hand, tugging you into his little jog to the pay booth.

First Kiss: You guys have a few dates before the first kiss. Neither of you mind, enjoying each other’s company and valuing that more than anything physical- Yunho makes that clear from the start! He wants that moment to be very traditional and romantic, so he knows the moment will come to him when it’s right. That moment comes at your doorstep after your first nice dinner together, when he tells you what a wonderful time he had, reminds you how beautiful you are, before cupping your cheek lightly and following your leaning lead to connect your lips.

First ‘I Love You’: It isn’t something you do, some concrete action that sets the gears turning in Yunho’s head. It’s just the joy, the sheer completion he feels in your presence, the way you don’t have to do anything to make him smile. Facts about each other fall naturally from both of your lips. So when he sees you all dressed up for an extra nice night out, smiling up to your eyes not at the gifts in his hand, but at him, it only cements his decision. When you ask him why he’s showering you with all that he is, he smiles widely and the answer comes out as easy as it would be to say his own name. “Because I love you, (y/n), that’s why.”

First Fight: In all honesty, it takes a long time for you guys to fight. Yunho isn’t an aggressive or argumentative person, so he doesn’t get angry easily or enjoy picking fights. The argument you guys have is small, but it feels heavier due to being your first fight. He hadn’t been sure if he could make plans of yours and cancelled last minute. You completely understood, but it was still very upsetting so you snapped a little and he shot back. You guys felt terrible and apologized quickly, though, hearts dropping at the thought of hurting the other.

First Anniversary: The first milestone is your hundred days. Yunho goes very classic, taking you out to lunch in the cutest café he could find and gifting you a set of matching couple rings! And playfully swapping them, of course, to see if each one fits both of you! By the look in his eyes as he slides your ring on your finger, you wonder if he’s thinking about another chance he could have to do that a little further down the line…

First Pet: Your first pet is a puppy! We all think of Yuyu as a dog person, and I think this would fully carry through as he muses on wanting a puppy, prompting you to surprise him for Valentine’s Day with the new fluffy baby! It’s important to adopt, not shop, so to get your golden retriever you research a rescue. You know he’s yours the moment you see him, big and wide-eyed as he jumps into your arms. When he came there, it was with a broken leg, and your heart melts at the pictures of him in his little cast. Yunho names him Hero because your little man is a survivor 💛

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #yunho #yunho x reader #yunho x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #fluff #firsts with ateez #ask #txt-yaomi #requested

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0x1lovebot · 11 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞; they better not be fucking‼️

2.3k words. [2,391]

not proofread!!

warnings; mentions of injury/blood. (lemme know if I missed any)

a/n; THIS TOOK WAY LONGER THAN IT WAS SUPPOSED GUYS I AM SO SO SORRY!! I left y’all on a cliffhanger and everything 😭😭 School really got serious and life got really busy and then prom happened so I haven’t had time to finish writing this part but we back now!!! Enjoy 🫶🏾🫶🏾 also the ending feels rushed to me but I truly don’t know how to fix it

y/n sighed as she pulled on a hoodie and sweatpants over her t-shirt and pajama shorts. it was 2 am and she had just finished studying for the night. to say that she was exhausted would be a severe understatement. hell, when riki texted her, she almost didn’t answer, thinking that whatever he needed could be dealt with in the morning. all she wanted to do was turn off her lamp, crawl under the covers and finally get some sleep but, something in her gut told her to look at the message. it was a good thing that she did.

of all things y/n expected to hear from riki, finding out that he was at a police station, was at the very bottom of the list. she knew that parties could sometimes get out of hand but to hear that jake and baekhyun got arrested was insane. all she could do was hope that they were okay and neither would press charges against the other.

with one last look over her living room, y/n grabbed her keys and shut the door to her apartment. y/n left her building quickly and started her walk to the police station. if jay found out she was walking alone in the dead of night, he would probably scold her for being so stupid and lecture her about how unsafe it was, which she already knew but desperate times called for desperate measures. there was no time to call an uber or get a taxi or something. plus her apartment building was only a few blocks away so y/n thought if she walked fast enough, she would be fine.

it only took a few minutes before y/n arrived at the police station. she jogged up the concrete steps and pulled open the glass double doors of the building.

the bright lights of the lobby were a huge contrast to the dark night sky, making y/n squint her eyes to adjust. when she could actually see clearly, y/n scanned the lobby hoping to find someone that could help her find her friends. y/n didn't expect anyone to be there at this hour so a wave of relief washed over her when she spotted a receptionist sitting at a desk on the far right of the lobby.

“um excuse me?”

"how can I help you dear?" the receptionist at the desk asked.

"hi i'm here for someone named 'jake sim'. he was arrested tonight." y/n said politely.

the receptionist gave a light smile as she looked up from her computer. "ah, you must be the girl mr.nishimura told me to look out for. y/n l/n right?"

y/n scratched her neck awkwardly. "yeah, that's me."

"well he and your friends are right in there with officer bang." the receptionist pointed to another set of double doors across from the desk.

y/n thanked the woman with a smile and made her way toward the doors.

"oh and y/n?” the receptionist called. “i hope you have a first aid kit. your boyfriend really did a number on that other guy."

y/n stopped in her tracks and turned to face the woman. "my boyfriend?"

"yes, mr. sim. he made that other guy all black and blue.” the receptionist raised an eyebrow at y/n’s shocked expression. “mr. nishimura told me you two are dating.”

y/n raised her eyebrows at the statement. “oh. well thanks for the heads up.”

and with that y/n turned back around and continued her walk to the double doors. she couldn't understand why riki would straight up lie to the poor woman about that, but she also couldn’t deny the warm sensation she felt at the thought of jake being her boyfriend. y/n mentally cursed herself for thinking about that at a time like this but she couldn’t help it.

y/n grasped the handles of the double doors and pulled them open slowly. her eyes widened at the sight in front of her. the room was buzzing with officers working on paperwork and going through evidence. she hadn’t expected it to be so busy.

the officer sitting at the desk closest to the door stood up and walked over to y/n. he was a bit on the short side but the way he carried himself made it seem like he was taller. he was quite muscular as well.

“hello ma’am." the police officer greeted with a charming smile. “how can i help you?”

he had an accent similar to jake's but his voice was a little deeper.

"hi, i'm looking for officer bang. i think he may have arrested one of my friends tonight."

“ah! officer bang is too formal, call me chan.” the officer said. “you must be the one riki told us about. y/n right?"

y/n pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "at this point, who hasn't he told about me." she grumbled.

officer bang let out a light laugh. "you're funny. come on, your friends are this way."

officer bang led y/n across the room in silence, weaving through desks and chairs to the door to the holding cells.

“so are they going to prison?” she asked quietly.

“no. it was just a fight and neither of them have a record so we’re letting them off with a warning.”

y/n sighed in relief. “thank goodness.”

“we’re just keeping them here until they sober up. that way they don’t endanger themselves or other people,” he continued. “that’s when they would end up in prison.”

after a few more steps, the two stopped in front of a large metal door. the officer pushed the door open and walked into the room with y/n behind him.

when y/n entered the room she was almost immediately tackled to the ground by riki, who buried his head in her shoulder.

"finally!" he cheered. "we've been going insane without you."

y/n’s eyes widened as she scanned the room. jay, who was usually very put together, was laid out on the concrete floor, asleep. heeseung was giggling to himself in a corner with sunghoon laying his head on his shoulder. and jungwon, the most responsible of them all, was pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself. y/n had never seen her friends so disoriented before.

“how long have you guys been here?” she asked riki.

“like an hour i think. my phone died a few minutes after i texted you.”

y/n eyes drifted over to the holding cells and her jaw almost dropped.

“holy shit!” she gasped

behind the bars of the first cell stood y/n’s ex-boyfriend. and he looked terrible. both his eyes were swollen shut and bruised black and blue, his lip was busted and his nose was bent at a painfully awkward angle. if y/n hadn’t known any better she would’ve thought that he got jumped in an alley. now she knew what the receptionist meant earlier, jake really did do a number in baekhyun.

“y/n? is that you?” baekhyun called. y/n stayed silent. “i recognize your voice. you’re here to bail me out right?”

silence again. sure she felt bad that he was stuck here, but she wasn't there for him. she didn't owe him anything. they were broken up and that was that. and after what happened between them she didn't want to interact with him ever again. all she could hope was that one of his friends would come and get him in the morning. y/n gave baekhyun one last look before turning to face officer bang.

"so what’s the verdict y/n?” the officer asked.

“can you let jake out please? i promise he won't get into any more trouble.”

“if you're with him, i'm sure he won't.”

the officer let jake out of his cell, much to baekhyun’s shouts and protests, and helped gather y/n’s friends out of the room. he led them out into the lobby, ensuring they were all together.

“thank you so much officer ba- i mean chan.” y/n said gratefully, once they reached the lobby.

“no problem. do you think you can handle all of them or do you need some help?”

y/n looked back at the boys behind her. “i think i can handle them.”

“well if you ever do need help, you know where to find me.”

y/n said goodbye to officer bang with a smile, and with riki’s help, she ushered her drunken friends out of the building.

“so what are we gonna do now? ” riki asked once they reached the bottom of the steps.

y/n paused. now that she was out of the police precinct, she had a chance to really stop and think. what was she going to do with them? what could she do with them? it was too late to drive all of them home and she didn’t really trust them to be alone in the state they were in. the only viable option they had was to take them all to her apartment.

“we’ll take them to my place.” she said. “and then tomorrow morning we’ll take them back home.”

“is your apartment big enough for 4 drunk adult men?” jungwon asked. he had calmed down significantly since they left the precinct.

“not really, but i don’t think these 4 can be left unsupervised right now.”

riki and jungwon nodded.

“how are we gonna get there though? walking at this time is not a good idea.” jungwon said.

“you c- you can use my car.” jay slurred from behind them.

y/n looked at jungwon and riki with wild eyes. “did you guys let him drive here?! drunk?!”

“no! of course not! i drove them, jay just let me use his car.” jungwon pulled jay’s car keys out of his pocket and handed them to y/n.

y/n let out a sigh of relief. “ok good. now let’s get these guys out of here.”

with riki and jungwon’s help, y/n herded the 4 boys into jay’s backseat, and did one final headcount before hopping into the drivers seat and starting the car.

the drive back to y/n’s building was short and quiet except for the incoherent mumbles coming from the back seat. when they arrived at y/n’s building, riki and jungwon, who were squeezed into the passenger’s seat, got out of the car first. riki helped jake and sunghoon out of the back while jungwon took jay and heeseung. y/n locked the car door and made sure everyone had everything before leading the boys up to her apartment.

while riki and jungwon situated the other 3 guys in the living room, y/n led jake to her bathroom so that she could patch him up. after sitting him down on the toilet seat, y/n pulled the first aid kit out from under the sink and got to work. the two sat in awkward silence as she wiped the blood off his face. neither of them knew what to say. jake looked up at y/n as she lightly dabbed the cut on his brow with an alcohol swab. her eyebrows were furrowed with concentration. he could see exhaustion written all over her face and it made him feel guilty. she should’ve been asleep hours ago but instead, she was stuck dealing with him and his drunk friends.

“y/n, i’m sorry.” y/n stopped dabbing the cut on jake’s left cheekbone.

“you’re sorry?” she asked.

“yes. i’m sorry you got dragged into all of this. you must be tired from studying all night and then you had to get us from the police station and now you're stuck patching me up and it just isn’t fair to you.” jake rambled. “and i know you must be mad at me for beating up your boyfriend and i get if you don’t want to speak to me anymore because of that, but i couldn’t just let him get away with what he did.”

“jake,” y/n called gently. “it’s okay. i’m not mad at you.”

“you’re not?”

“of course not. i know you were defending me and it was very sweet of you. i don't think beating up my ex-boyfriend was really necessary, but i still appreciate it.” she said as she started cleaning the other cut on his lip.

“wait,” jake held y/n’s hand gently, halting her dabbing motions. “what do you mean ‘ex-boyfriend’?”

“we broke up a couple of weeks ago. we got into this huge argument and we just ended it there. it was a long time coming though.”

“oh.” jake paused. “what was the argument about? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“it was mostly about you.”

jake’s eyes widened. “me?”

“yeah. baekhyun was telling me to stay away from you, he thought the way you were so nice to me was weird and that you were only doing it because you were into me.” y/n sighed. “i knew that couldn’t be true because you’re always so sweet to everyone. that’s just who you are.”

the bathroom fell silent for a second.

“he was kind of right you know. about the ‘me being into you’ thing.” jake mumbled.

“what?”

“i‘ve had feelings for you ever since we were partnered up in high school. and then when we got to college i wanted to make a move but you got together with baekhyun so i tried to move on but i just couldnt. i fell too hard. you have no idea how hard it was to see you with him knowing that he got to hold you, and be with you and i couldn't.”

y/n shifted slightly under jake’s intense gaze. “i don’t- i don’t know what to say.”

“you don't have to say anything. i just wanted to get that off my chest. i probably ruined any chance i had with you anyway.” jake sighed, looking down at his lap.

y/n placed her hand under his chin and tilted his head up to meet her eyes. “well i wouldn’t go that far.”

jake’s eyes twinkled with hope. “really? you mean i still have a chance?”

y/n smiled lightly. “yes. just give me some time ok?”

“ok.”

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dragonbma · 6 months

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Reasons why I firmly believe Vos didn’t perish initially in the Sea Temple and instead survived (if even for a short while) inside: This is going to be a rant so bear with me…

The subtle hints in the game dialogue reveal a lot despite us never finding his inventory or concrete evidence suggesting how Vos died:

1) In the emporium when you first consult Jack about going to the Sea Temple, he mentions his friends Vos and Sammy were killed during the first adventure. He doesn’t explicitly state he saw them both die, just that “neither of them made it out alive.” (More on this in 2)

2) After freeing ‘Vos’ in the temple, Jack seems more excited than confused that his buddy is alive. In fact, Jack asks him no questions. (I can dismiss that as Jesse needing the dialogue options, but Jack’s lack of suspicion is either because Vos had an ambiguous death or he’s in denial that his friend is dead.) Jesse mentions to ‘Vos’ that “Jack said he saw you die.” But from all the game dialogue I’ve seen, Jack never says he saw that.

Full Quotes:

3) “Whatever’s left of Vos must be somewhere down here too…” -Jack after picking up Sammy’s inventory in the Sea Temple

He says “somewhere.” Almost as if he’s not even sure where his other friend died. Huh, kind of like he didn’t see it…

Yes I know that upon entering the guardian room of the temple, he says that everything is a blur, but after picking up one of your friend’s inventories, wouldn’t memories come flooding back? I feel like that would have been a crucial memory even if it was repressed.

Side note: It’s kind of weird he doesn’t go looking for Vos’ inventory. Idk if this is because he genuinely doesn’t know where it is or because he’s so distraught after finding Sammy’s inventory that he needs some time to think before he can handle seeing Vos’ as well.

4) “I thought you were a goner, man!” -Jack to ‘Vos’

Note how he says “thought.” What happened that made you think he died? Because seeing him die wouldn’t merely leave you thinking your friend died. You would be 100% sure-

Jack doesn’t say “I saw you die!” Or “How did you survive (insert whatever killed him)?”

5) “The real Vos would never have survived in my Sea Temple that long!” -Romeo post-reveal

HE. SAYS. “SURVIVED.” That’s a weird thing to say if Vos had really died initially along with Sammy.

He doesn’t say anything like: “You really thought I was your friend? After you watched him perish?” or something implying Jack saw it occur. Because knowing Romeo, he would absolutely jab at a blunder like that and belittle Jack for believing his disguise after seeing his friend die.

So, yeah. Our favorite sea temple adventurer lived in that death trap of a Brita filter for Admin knows how long until his eventual death by… starvation? Temple traps? Both? Maybe the guardians still killed him but later? My main guesses are he got trapped in the obsidian cages, or separated from Jack while they were escaping. Either way, Jack accidentally abandoned him after thinking he was killed. Such a shame we never find his inventory pile or anything because that would answer so many of my questions- Romeo give back Vos’ inventory challenge (impossible.) I know you have it.

Idk if we’ll ever know what actually happened but here’s my ten cents. ^^ I am so very mentally well as of now. Thank you for coming to my TellTalk /j

[Or another rant if you want:]

#top five hills i will die on #hey guys mrbeast here and today we see how long this man can live in this brita filter #mcsm #minecraft story mode #mcsm vos #mcsm jack #mcsm romeo #bermuda brainrot hours #bermuda ramblings #bermuda scriptscrawlings #am i writing this instead of an essay for classes right now #you can’t prove anything

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gaysindistress · 8 months

Text

As Good a Reason - two

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: mob!Bucky, cursing

word count: 3.1k

Tag list: @cakesandtom @elizacusi-blog @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn

one | series masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are not how Y/N is supposed to look. They are merely for aesthetic purposes and Y/N is written vaguely enough for anyone to see themselves in her.

The city never changed during her six year hiatus. Concrete jungle or whatever Jay Z said, that is how she remembered the city and as the car rolls down the streets, it’s obvious that it’s not going to change.

About the only thing that has changed is how much of an outsider Y/N feels like. This place isn’t her home, it hasn’t been since her father put a bullet in her mom right in the middle of dinner. It probably wasn’t even home for her before then but it’s all she knew. God even Phoenix in all its hot glory felt more like home than the lower east side did.

Victoria has remained eerily quiet ever since they got off the plane. Y/N passed it off as nerves but Niklaus whispered to her that neither daughter had been “home” since that night. Brock had chosen to ship Victoria off to Paris to live with some business partner of his. He said it was good for her to travel but when it was really a ploy to marry her off to a 50 year old white man.

That man ended up dead 366 days after they were married and exactly one day after the prenup ended.

Niklaus, on the other hand, was held prisoner in his childhood home and forced to learn the ins and outs of the family business. Brock needed someone to take over in the event of his early death and being the only son, Niklaus was the natural choice. Brock always wanted it to be Y/N, his youngest and most favorite, but Jasmine ruined that for him.

Either way, Y/N almost immediately decides to shoot the man dead the moment the White Wolf’s death is confirmed. She had thought about this very chance every night for six years but now she’s finally getting the chance. A part of her wants to make him suffer and the other part just wants him gone. Both agree that he needs to be dealt with as soon as possible which means cooperating for the time being.

A tall blonde is driving them and she picks up on a strange vibe the moment he gives her the up and down. Any other time and she would’ve broken his nose but Niklaus guides her away before she can do that.

“That’s Caleb Walker’s son, John,” he whispers to her as they drive.

“THAT’S John?”

Victoria smirks, “He got hot.”

“Jesus,” Y/N snorts, “He got weird and creepy.”

“Whatever. More for me then.”

Niklaus makes a face but drops it before either sister can figure out what it means. Their attention gets turned to John when he announces that they’ve arrived at the Rumlow townhouse. Y/N wants to make a comment about how far her father has fallen since she’s left and almost does although the dark presence of the man at the butt of the comment overwhelms her.

Standing on stairs is Brock and his men, all dressed like they stepped out of Call of Duty or some other war video game that teenage boys play. Another tall blonde that rubs her the wrong way flanks her father but he’s dressed alarmingly normal in jeans and a Dodgers tee shirt. Y/N points him out to her brother as they get out and he stalls for a second.

“That… that’s uhhh Steve Rogers. He works for the White Wolf.”

“Don’t tell me that he’s a glorified babysitter.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

Just as they get into ear shot, they stop whispering to each other and greet everyone. Victoria makes a show of greeting Brock who can’t be bothered to even acknowledge her and keeps his whole attention on Y/N.

“There’s my baby girl,” he says with too much gusto and squeezes her too tightly in a bear hug.

She pushes against him as hard as she can to which he utters a warning into her ear of play nice or else. He gives her a fake smile when he releases her and introduces her to Steve who gently shakes her hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Juárez. I’ve heard so much about you.” Brock stiffens at the last name and corrects Steve.

“Sorry, Ms. Rumlow.”

After taking her hand back and exchanging pleasantries, she heads inside in the direction that she saw Victoria go. Niklaus is not far behind but he’s stopped by John who whispers something in his ear and lets him go. His face is a shade paler when he catches up to them however he refuses to say what happened. Victoria is content to unpack her own bags while Y/N helps her and eyes their brother with concern. He occasionally makes eye contact with her only to quickly break it and find lint on his pants to pick off.

Dinner rolls around and Brock requests that all three join him. Flashbacks break the surface and take over Y/N’s mind when she first sits down. Like a true villain, her father had the same dinner made from that night with the same seating so that they can relive possibly the worst night of her life. He smiles at her discomfort and preys on it like a vampire, finding delight in her shivers. As he drains her of her will to cooperate, he spills the details of his plan to kill the White Wolf.

There will be a party on Saturday that the White Wolf will be at. Niklaus and Victoria are to find and isolate him so that Y/N can deliver the kill shot.

Simple enough but still she finds every flaw in it.

Won’t he be suspicious?

If he’s going to be there, won’t he have security?

How is Y/N supposed to kill him?

Why does this “simple” plan need the Snake?

Brock slams his hand on the table and stops her line of questioning, saying, “Because your brother and sister are too fucking stupid to do it. I’ve already tried them and that’s how we got into this position in the first place. I need you to do it.”

“Weren’t you the one who told me to never reveal all of my cards?” Y/N asks as she takes a drink of her wine.

Brock’s nostrils flare and he squeezes his glass so hard it threatens to break, “I swear to god, Y/N.”

“You must be really desperate.”

“Y/N.”

She takes another sip of wine, “Only a truly desperate man would turn to his enemy for help.”

“You’re not my enemy. You’re my daughter even if your mother was a whore and a liar.”

That strikes a cord.

“Say one more thing about her and I will kill you right now.”

Brock laughs in her face, “I’d like to see you try.”

When she doesn’t answer, he continues on explaining his plan for the party. Victoria and Niklaus are listening enough for Y/N to drown everything out.

She squeezes her eyes shut and repeats a mantra to herself;

He’s next.

She opens her eyes, inhales deeply, exhales, and takes a sip of her wine.

“Is there a dress code for this party?”

Steve slides into his car and calls the White Wolf the moment the door closes.

“What do you got for me?” he asks when he answers the phone.

“She hates him with a burning passion. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that she’s here plotting his death, not yours.”

The other man chuckles, “That so?”

“How much did Sam tell you about her mom,” Steve pauses as he searches through his texts for the name, “Jasmine Rumlow?”

“Enough to know that it wouldn’t surprise me if Brock turns up dead tomorrow morning. Did you get anything else?”

“She’s going to be the key to taking out his operation. He has a soft spot for her so we can exploit that but it might be easier to exploit hers, push her to help us.”

The White Wolf sighs and takes a moment to think before answering, “Do we know what that is or are you expecting me to figure it out when she’s pointing a gun at me?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Is that your way of saying that I need to be back here tomorrow?” “And the day after that. Don’t let her leave your sight until you know what her weaknesses are. Even if she hates mornings, I want to know everything.”

“Copy that.”

Growing up with Caleb Walker at Brock’s side meant that Y/N did know his son, John but he stayed out of their fathers’ ways. Maybe it was his parents wanting to protect him or maybe it was that he knew from a young age what a monster Brock was. Either way he failed whoever wanted to protect him.

Working in the same role as his father, John never leaves Brock’s side and it’s unnerving to Y/N. When Brock moved, John moved. When Brock breathed, John breathed. When Brock tried to assert dominance over Y/N, John did the same. The most recent example of this is how he grips at her arm and nearly throws her through her bedroom door after she got caught sneaking back into the house.

“What were you thinking?” he demands, his voice bouncing off the walls and echoing deep into her ears.

Y/N shakes off his hand and voice as she walks towards her bed. She drops herself down and starts to take off her shoes which angers him even more. His question rings out again but she doesn’t care to answer it. He asks for a third time and she stops what she’s doing, straightens up, and half turns to him.

“I’ll answer you when you stop yelling at me.”

He scoffs and puts his hands on his hips, “I don’t have time for this.”

“And I have all the time in the world.”

Shaking his head, he looks to the ground and takes a deep breath, “Fine.”

Y/N goes back to untying her shoes and kicks them off when he finds the peace inside himself to ask the question again. “I won’t be a prisoner while I’m here. Brock might tell you differently but what I’m telling you is to take the presidency; I can and will leave whenever I want. If the White Wolf is really that big of a threat, then I’ll check in with you but no one is going to track, follow, or stalk me.”

John nods along even though deep down it’s painful to be taking orders from her.

“Since the stupid party has a dress code, Vic, Niklaus, and I will be going shopping. If I see anyone tailing us, I will be shooting out their tires and you,” she pauses to turn and look at him, “will get the brunt of my wrath, understood?” John sniffs aggressively but nods in understanding nonetheless. Y/N finishes taking her shoes and socks off before going to her closet to change. He doesn’t leave or move, annoying her even more than she already is. She wants to huff at the invasion of privacy but it won’t be her any good. With her luck, he’ll take it as her being hurt or worse; a threat to his manhood. Before she can think of something snarky to say, John speaks up and starts into the nostalgia of her being back. He goes on and on about how he never thought he would see her again and how he always thought that they would end up together.

Pulling a sweatshirt over her head, Y/N stops in the closet entrance and stares blankly at him. He grows uncomfortable and shifts but keeps up with his line of wishful thinking.

“I’m going to stop you right there,” she says, interrupting his tangent about how he had a crush on her growing up, “I don’t care. I don’t want to hear about our childhood from your point of view. I don’t want to hear about how happy you are that I’m back. I don’t want to hear any of it because I don’t care, John. As soon as I’ve outlived my usefulness with the White Wolf or whoever else Brock pissed off, he’ll send me away or kill me and honestly, I’m good with either. I don’t want this life and I never have so please spare me the romantics of it all.”

The door slams almost immediately after she finishes and she lets out a deep sigh. Of course it would take crushing his dreams of them being endgame to get him to leave. On the bright side, maybe he won’t bother her anymore or it could go the other way and he’ll be stuck to her like glue.

Y/N chooses to not think about it anymore and falls onto her back on her bed, allowing the comfort of the blankets to engulf her. Time slips away from her as she lets her worries and stress disappear even if for a minute or two. Nothing is ever really stressful free for her, not when her father is still alive and controlling her life.

There had been a time, maybe two years into living in Phoenix, did she think that it would be possible to be free form Brock. Maria and her were in the middle of moving from their first tiny apartment to the one she left behind when the letter showed up. It was simple and with no address. All the letter said was “Don’t get comfortable.” Maria hid it as soon as she found it and tried her hardest to hide any fears that it brought it up but it only worked for a few months after that. A car crash is what took Maria but Y/N always knew that it was more than that; a planned attack or something like that. In hindsight, it could’ve been this White Wolf and not Brock but that would mean that he’s been pulling the strings for far longer than she knew or wanted to admit.

Her phone rings on the nightstand, drawing her back to reality and she groans as she grabs it. There’s no caller ID so she’s hestiaant to answer and lets it go to voicemail. Dropping herself back onto her bed, she doesn’t get a second to enjoy it because it starts ringing again. No caller ID flashes once more and she figures that if she doesn’t answer it now, whoever it is will keep calling all night long.

“What do you want?” “No hello?” a man’s voice comes through, harsh and thick but with an undertone of something she can’t place.

“What do you want?” “Open your curtain.”

She closes her eyes in annoyance, “no. You have three seconds to tell me what you want before I hang up.”

“Assuming your father is going to be the most predictable thing and try to pull something at the party, I’m having a dress delivered for you to wear. Something a little different from those cargo pants you wear everyday.”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say this is the White Wolf asshole that Brock is obsessed with.”

He chuckles, deep and profound, “Ouch. I don’t think I’m an asshole.”

“Well,” Y/N starts as she sits up and pushes the curtain back to peer out the window, “if the shoe fits.”

Across the street is a blacked out car however she can only assume that the man on the phone is sitting in it. Her assumption is correct. The passenger window rolls down and a dark haired man waves at her. From this distance she can’t make out too many details but she can see the speckles of facial hair and penetrating eyes.

“I fully expect you to be wearing my dress and if you’re not, I’ll be very upset, little snake.”

“I’ll try but no promises.”

“Oh and it goes without saying, don’t tell your father we talked.”

Y/N hangs up without answering and the man continues to stare up at her as another man gets out of the car with a big black box in hand. He puts it down in front of their gate and returns to his car. The White Wolf gives her a grin to match his name and the two drive away.

That box sits in her closet for almost three days before she opens it. The decision comes after a few failed shopping trips and with her returning with one dress she only got because Victoria didn’t want to leave it at the store. Y/N and Niklaus argued with her for a solid 45 minutes about how stupid it was to buy a dress only because you don’t want someone else to have it.

Of course her response was that she’ll find another time to wear it if Y/N choose something else. The shimmery emerald green material shines too much and the deep front v cuts too low for her liking hence why she’s sitting in her closet with the box in front of her. She’s been staring at it for probably 15 minutes now and the looming pressure of the party tomorrow is starting to get to her. Aside from the dress being generally not something she would wear, it feels impractical to wear if she’s going to complete a mission.

Curiosity gets the better of her logic and she’s tearing into the box before she knows it. In the white tissue paper lies a simple black dress. No jewels or gems, no elaborate hems, or fancy material. Pulling out the dress, she gets a better look at the floor length dress that will no doubt hug her figure. The boat neck line provides the cover that her sister’s dress lacks and she quickly shoves the dress back into its box.

“No, no. no,” she whispers to herself as she drums her fingers against the lid, “I’m not wearing it. I can’t. I won't.”

It calls to her, chanting her name from beneath her hand.

She slowly reopens it, letting her hands drift over the fabric as she battles with herself about it, “No I can’t wear this. I mean…. I could. It’s more practical. I could probably fight in it. It’d be easier…”

She trails off in her internal line of arguing as she feels its softness.

“I’ll just try it on first.”

Famous last words.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #mob au #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #marvel #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #winter soldier imagine #as good a reason bucky barnes

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uhohbestie · 2 months

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There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 9]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite the tensions between them. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chatper 9 - The duo endeavour to overcome some (literal) obstacles by proceeding cross-country on foot. The view at the summit of their hike is worrisome, and neither of them are prepared for what awaits them on the other side.

📝 Words: 7,381

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 9 on AO3

—

The city stretches out below them, wrapped tight to the base of the mountain and stretching out until it disappears into its own haze. Scar’s seen a city sprawl before, but he’s never seen anything like this. Parts of it are blackened, still smouldering from uncontained fires run amok. Other parts look cratered, homes, buildings, and entire blocks having crumbled back on top of themselves, leaving concrete skeletons standing in their absence. Smoke trickles up towards the sky in thready columns, signs of occupation or encampments, maybe, or just society continuing to collapse in on itself.

It looks like a war zone.

He feels sick.

“This isn’t a small hiccup, is it?” Grian asks as they both stare, his voice flattened and low. “This isn’t just going to blow over in a week.”

“I don’t know.” It’s not a lie, but deep in his gut Scar feels the permanence of their situation making itself clear. An irreparable shift in the way the world works.

They continue staring in silence, just the two of them, alone on the edge of the wreckage of what used to be. Mourning, not for the first time, and not for the last.

“Have you noticed there are no planes?” Grian asks after what feels like hours, though has only been a handful of minutes, at most. “No highway sounds, no industry, no sirens. It’s so quiet.”

It’s true. Their last days have been crushingly devoid of sound, all the usual background clamour of their lives absent. Scar has tried not to dwell on it much.

It scares him.

“We should keep going,” he says instead, even though every one of his limbs protests at the thought. “The hard part’s over, right? All downhill from here.”

“Right,” Grian says, slowly tearing his eyes away from the scene spread before him. “Hard part’s over.”

—

Another Friday another chapter of zombie au! This is the end of the first arc of the fic, which we're really really excited about! But also nervous! But also excited! A world of emotion in our hearts.

You can read the whole story thus-far linked below!

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

#hermitshipping #scarian #life series fanfic #zombie au #TAMN #TAMN fic

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pricechecktranslations · 5 months

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Seven Crimes and Punishments Interview (2015)

There are a lot of interviews that mothy has done over the years that aren't published in official Evillious material. I can't promise to find them, and I have very little desire to translate them, but if people point them out to me I'll try to make a quick summary of their contents like I've been doing for his blog.

This one's from the Japanese entertainment website "Natalie", linked [here]

Content summary under the cut

basic info on mothy, that he's a song producer who's been there since pretty much the beginning, a pioneer of VOCALOID novels, etc etc. Ichika is also present for this interview, as his main illustrator. At this point it's been 7 years since Daughter of Evil came out.

-He had no idea he'd be going this long. mothy had no intention or expectation of making money off this when he first started, viewing it instead as a hobby. He admits that he still feels that way even now that he's successful.

-Seven Crimes and Punishments, however, was planned in advance. He'd figured that he wanted to release something that compiled the Seven Deadly Sins songs at the 7 year mark, and was conveniently approached by a major record label to do so (even if they hadn't reached out to him he would have done so anyway).

-He really likes being able to concretely show the songs are connected.

-This isn't new information but mothy didn't originally have all of Evillious in mind when making Daughter of Evil. All he'd conceived of was the setting for Daughter of Evil. It was only later that he started making things connected (this is another thing he likes--having stories that seem to be unrelated at first and then revealing they're in the same world). He got the idea around the time he was making Evil Food Eater Conchita.

-mothy has always liked fantasizing about stories, but never had an outlet for them before. Hence why he went so overboard when making the songs.

-Ichika found it easy to illustrate Daughter of Evil because of how clearly the song told its story.

-mothy's affinity for telling stories in songs is at least partly inspired by Western heavy metal music. In particular he cites the bands Helloween and Stratovarius (who tell fantasy stories with their music). He also mentions the early works for Makihara Noriyuki (a JPop artist), which also had stories to them.

-He also talks a little about the historical basis for telling complex narratives through music, such as medieval minstrels, opera, musicals, etc. So he doesn't think there's anything special about what he's doing; it's just that such music isn't popular anymore.

-Mothy talks about Cloture, which was his first time writing a novel. Neither he nor the publisher thought it would sell, so he didn't feel pressured at all when writing it.

-He had a lot of material to make Cloture with from when he was making the setting for the song, thought it wound up being more of a foundation for him to work off of than the complete story itself. Ironically this has resulted in him coming up with so much complex plot and setting that he now struggles to fit it into his newer songs, having to promise himself he'll write whatever he can't fit into another novel.

-Ichika always tries to preserve the tone and atmosphere of the songs whenever she makes illustrations for mothy. With the songs in particular she tries to follow not just the instructions she gets, but also keeping in mind the information mothy has already made public for his story. She avoids putting her own interpretation or spin on the art, just following what mothy has in mind.

-mothy recounts how there was some debate over making novels of the songs (which he didn't mind). People apparently thought it would detract from the ability of readers to imagine their own stories with the music. But novels are derivative works of the songs, and he felt like he could write it as he wanted to as the song's author (slightly unsure what he's saying here). The attitude towards "novelizing" has changed now, of course.

-Ichika was happy to work on the manga, being able to illustrate things that didn't get shown visually in the novel.

-they discuss how mothy's fan base (and VOCALOID in general) seem to have a lot of younger people in it now, like teens and pre-teens (he would have expected an older fan base given he's been making songs for 7 years). He talks about how he's had to keep this in mind when making his work--that his songs need to appeal to kids and teens who don't know much about music, and not just to music enthusiasts and adults.

-They also discuss how mothy doesn't tailor his songs to project a cool image (and use the Onigashima song as an example, being an enka song and thus not exactly Jpop). He doesn't view himself as a "cool" person in general, and so is looking more at what's in demand in what he makes.

-mothy would doodle stories and concepts and characters for himself in elementary school, but dropped this as he entered middle school and got into music. He thinks that it's better for him to work on these things as an adult because he no longer has much pride to get in the way whenever his imagination gets the better of him.

-He worked on the short story at the same time as he was making the 4 new songs for the album. He struggled a little with the setting at first because he wanted all of the main sin characters to show up in it, but they all live in different countries and time periods (this is my own speculation, but this may be why he chose to have the end of the world play out like it did)

-Ichika talks a little about the appeal of the story, that each character isn't totally good or evil, and so they all have ways they can be likable. The story is made up of a lot of smaller events kind of compiling on each other, which makes what-ifs and the like interesting to do. Her favorite characters are Conchita and Gallerian. She also talks a little about designing the album jacket.

-they discuss the trend of making novels about VOCALOID songs--mothy noting it took off way more than he thought it would (he expected a bit of a trend, but not to this degree). He doesn't mind that he was going against the grain when he started, but he thinks it's a little overboard now (he seems to be saying that he thinks there's this pressure to make novels when really it's okay to just stick with making songs). Still though, he tries to keep to himself and not worry what other people are doing.

-Ichika has similar thoughts, where she hasn't been paying close attention to the "novel scene", but she has noted some people getting into reading through VOCALOID, or getting into VOCALOID through reading, that it serves as a good gateway genre, as it were.

-He says he's planning to keep going for at least another 5 years so he'll have been going for 12 years (for thematic reasons, of course).

#()mothy interviews

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disastrouscanasta · 17 days

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did the BoB fallout universe within my brain accidentally expand to include a clegan drabble, yes, yes it did

i actually wrote this for my dear friend @krakerjaksstuff, for not only her unwavering and very much appreciated support, but also to feed her interest in clegan and mota >:3

John had still been asleep when the bombs dropped. If it weren’t for Gale dragging his ass out of there the moment things had gone to shit, John would have been another one of the folks obliterated in their own home. He wouldn’t have even known what hit him, he thought.

Instead, he was granted the joy of sterile smelling bed sheets in his carefully furnished bedroom, thick metal walls and a stiff, uncomfortable jumpsuit.

“Suits you, at least.” He told Gale. They’d all gotten issued their things quickly and without much hassle. Not everyone who’d gotten a reservation through Vault-tec’s American Veteran plan had made it to the shelter. John was sure that the empty housing units would haunt him, once he got more familiar with the underground floor plan.

“Yeah, well, it’s better than nothing.” Nothing was what they’d shown up with. Gale had packed a small kit, though it was hiding in the linen closet, wedged between the wall and the lowest shelf. It was just precautionary, supposedly. But neither of them had thought to grab it on their way out.

John had gotten out of there with the skin on his back, barely having enough time to slip on the shoes he’d left out next to the coat rack. Normally Gale would have been on his ass about putting them away with the others, this time he didn’t say a word. Hardly mattered, anyway. They didn’t get to keep their clothes. John would have been hard pressed to miss the pair of boxers and t-shirt he’d walked in with.

“D’you think they’ve got a bar here?” John said. He sat on the sofa in his unit. It was stiff, he was sure the leather had never been sat on before. He could almost smell the factory-freshness of it cut through his stuffy haze.

Gale stood in the kitchenette, pulling open John’s cupboards and drawers. John hadn’t even bothered to look.

“No clue.” Gale shot him a look. “Get a soda.”

“It’s the goddamn apocalypse, Cleven.”

“Get two sodas, then.” Gale crouched down, fiddling with the knobs on the oven.

“You just want me to get you one.”

John didn’t move from his spot on the sofa. He slouched back, laying his head against the back of it. The bright fluorescent lights above his head were glaring. He wondered if there was a way to fix that.

“Y’alright?” Gale asked, still crouching. His knees rested against the dull grey concrete. John wondered how thick the metal beneath it was.

John hummed. He wasn’t sure what he was or what he wasn’t. With every inhale and exhale he felt the stretch of his jumpsuit, he hoped he could break it in fairly quickly. Maybe the old military tricks to soften his boots could help with this thing.

“Just thinking.” He said. “Whole lot to think about.”

“And a whole lot of time to do it.” Gale told him. John heard the patter of his boots as he crossed the room, coming to stand at the arm of the sofa. “Don’t gotta do it all right now.”

“Could have been us dropping those bombs, Gale.” John said anyway. “Could have been us.”

“But it wasn’t.” Gale dropped a hand to his shoulder. “We’re alright.”

“Wonder what happened to the pilots.”

“Maybe the Reds have their own vaults. And I bet they’re drinking Red Colas instead of thinking about some Americans hiding in their own hole in the ground.”

“You’re really caught up about that, huh?” John turned, looking Gale in the eye properly. Everything about the deep set of his light eyes was telling John that they shouldn’t go on with the conversation, that Gale was giving him the easiest outs he could take. “Glad we ended up in the same damn hole in the ground, Buck.”

“Like you wouldn’t have found your way in through some ventilation shaft, maybe you’d dig right through the walls.” Gale squeezed his shoulder. “C’mon, there’s gotta be something that’s more fun than staring at the ceiling.”

“Gonna have to get used to the ceilings in here, might as well start now.”

“Wise-ass. You’ve got time, you can do that later. Isn’t that the whole point of these things anyway?” Gale held out a hand, which John took, letting himself be pulled off of the sofa. Gale gave him a pat on the back, “C’mon. Maybe they’ve got smokes in this joint, just make sure you do it next to the vent or something.”

Gale made good points. Though they were solid reminders that John wouldn’t feel the wind through his hair for another, what? Ten, fifteen years? When they opened the doors back up, he wondered if there’d even be planes out there to fly. More likely than not, the America he knew was gone.

He’d joined the military for his country, at first. He’d stayed for men like Buck. For Buck, he thought sometimes. Well, if he couldn’t have America then by god he’d keep Gale.

#playing fast and loose with fallout canon and mota canon for my own personal gain #again this wasn’t planned. though. the luztoye fallout au is 100% planned #and 75% likely to be completed #conceptually multiple BoB ships fit within it but they’re not interconnected #so uh. yeah #feel free to chit-chat about fallout. hbowar. hbowar fallout ‘verse #mota #clegan #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #fallout au

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youphoriaot7 · 7 months

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...okay. I'm still trying to get my thoughts together so this might be a bit rambly, but bear with me.

The more I look at the black shulker investigations that Cellbit did around the time of the election dinner, the more I believe the Federation intercepted him rather than manipulated him.

The information that was discovered through the mission was a lot of stuff that was super private to the Federation: he found evidence that the Federation knew about the Code Sword prior to Etoiles even knowing it existed, he saw mention of the Federation doing experimentation and tests long before Baghera or even Jaiden's plotlines came to light, he found Project A0 weeks before we heard about Egg A1. (And none of this is me bashing on other plotlines; don't twist my words.) [The ultimate culmination of the investigation was the Code Sword, so it seems as though there may be a tie there—which, if the Codes are currently using the black concrete, would make sense.]

When he got to the final coordinates that the shulkers led him to, however, there was another book inside that shulker with more coords. This struck me as weird at the time, and still bothers me—because the final book had told him to leave the evidence at the coordinates; so why say that only to give him more coordinates?

But the final shulker was out in the open: it would be fairly easy to find and drop a book inside. If you knew what you were looking for.

Switching gears a bit—if I'm not wrong, all of Bagi's childhood lore fragments have also come in black shulkers, not chests or white shulkers. All of her information has been stuff I'm absolutely certain the Federation would not want her to know about or remember, especially if/considering they had something to do with it all.

If the Federation is order, control, and perfection—white—then this new...thing is chaos, luck, and confusion—black.

I think those black shulker investigations were just an exceptionally early introduction to whatever the third player in this island's chess game is. One of the books Cellbit received then said that they "share[d] a common enemy," and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. If it was from the Codes, would that be referencing the Federation? If it was truly the Federation tricking him the whole time, would it mean the Codes? Why would they say that; acknowledge the Codes in private like that? Either way doesn't really seem to fully click into place. Not to mention he was investigating both parties at the same time: the Code Sword and the Federation's tests/experiments.

This...black shulker association(? ksjdfg) doesn't seem fully aligned with either the Federation nor the Codes: I think they're a "neutral" third party. They might be working together with the Codes at the moment, what with the Codes helping the eggs to communicate(??? still not positive that's what's happening) but I don't think they're the same entity.

The black organization seems to simply be committed to giving out information the Federation doesn't want people to know.

To add another piece to this puzzle, look at Hombre Misterioso and ¿?. (Which I consider two different people—one being the mysterious figure that was torturing (/lh) Cellbit, one being the man that gave Maxo the plans for SOFIA.) If we consider that both of them are also a part of this black concrete association(? skfjg), then they are also doing things that don't quite benefit the Federation or the Codes. The ¿? man seemed wary of the Federation (he told Maxo to "be careful, the Federation may be watching") and just had these masterplans for a giant supercomputer on hand, for whatever reason. Hombre Misterioso seemed to have his own still unknown reasons for torturing Cellbit, but he didn't seem fully aligned with either side either.

Neither of these people really...strengthened the fight for or against the Federation at all; all they did was give us more questions. More confusion. More information. More chaos.

#qsmp #qsmp theory #pl;worse #qsmp cellbit #qsmp maxo #qsmp maximus #the federation are evil #00100001 #qsmp bagi

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bts-hyperfixation · 1 year

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Outside of the fox

Chapter 5/21(?) - words 1996

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

The next day you go shopping. You manage to convince Noelle to go with you so she can help you pick some appropriate things.

Your husband had personal shoppers that chose what they thought would be best. Each garment was exquisite in its lines and execution, but they had definitely been more for show than comfort. It left you with a nonexistent fashion sense.

The mall is packed by the time the two of you get there. In hindsight, Saturday afternoon was not the best pick if you’d hoped for a calm first attempt and finding your style. Still, Noelle seemed completely unfazed by the prospect. If she noticed your hesitation, she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she forged ahead, linking her arm with yours and charging into the fray.

You shop for basics first, picking up plain t-shirts and blue jeans. The generic stores are easy, find your size and leave. For the statement pieces, it was a little more challenging. You gave Noelle a budget and she ran with it, finding a diverse selection of things to bring to you in the changing room. You pinched and pulled at the various fabrics, trying to get them to fit in a way that you found comfortable and flattering. Every so often you’d show some to your companion in the same way the other girls in the shop were showing their mothers. Sometimes she nodded, other times she looked absolutely disgusted.

Ten stores in and it’s clear that neither of you could maintain the momentum much longer. You grab the mouse’s hand before she sets foot in a businesswear store that looks far too serious for your interview. She looks at you questioningly and you gesture towards the food court.

“Dinner on me?” You ask, already walking towards the pizza place across the hall.

“Absolutely.”

Noelle finds a long table to perch on the end of while you go and buy enough food for the two of you to share. The food area is just as packed as the rest of the mall. It’s difficult to weave through all of the bodies to find your way back to her without dropping your pizza box.

Just as you see her through the crowd, someone scrapes their chair back into you.

It happens almost in slow motion.

You tip forwards, twisting to try and stop the pizza from falling to the floor, forgetting to shield yourself from the hard concrete that was quickly becoming closer. Bracing yourself for the impact, you tense up. Only for it to never come. A steadying arm is behind your back preventing you from hitting down hard and someone else is supporting your food to keep it upright.

“Are you okay Y/N?”

You glance up into the eyes of your saviour only to find one of Jimin’s mates holding you up. Another stands at his side, now holding your tray. Blushing wildly, you stand up and immediately begin apologising to the pair.

Yoongi glares after the person that had knocked you over in the first place, grumbling about a lack of manners. Namjoon smiles wide and hands your tray back to you.

“I’m good, thanks.” You avoid eye contact by dusting yourself off, despite never having touched the floor.

“It’s good to run into you again Y/N, Jimin was talking about you again last night. He says you have an interview for a job now?” He makes friendly conversation as they escort you back to Noelle.

When you reach the table, Noelle welcomes the men and invites them to sit with you. It is clear that she must know them well, not a surprise knowing how much Jimin gushes about them to complete strangers, let alone his colleagues and friends.

“Yeah, at some office downtown, it’s a receptionist job. Should be really great experience. I don’t really have a lot else on my resume."

“Any job is better than no job at the minute,” Yoongi grumbles pessimistically.

Namjoon jabs the grumpy Jackal in the ribs.

The three of them start a conversation about the last time they met and you are more than happy to listen as you munch on the pizza in front of you. It seems to have been some kind of fundraiser put on by the shelter, a casino night where they dressed up in fancy clothes and pretended to be Highrollers for the evening.

“Wouldn’t that be fun Y/N?” Noelle asks, waving a hand in front of your eyes.

Your mind runs away from you then. You find yourself distracted by images of the men in 007 tuxes, hair slicked back as they moved from game to game all evening. Jimin’s hair a flame in the muted room, Namjoon’s laugh echoing across the hall, and Yoongi making jokes with the bartender. It would seem that none of them had met Jungkook back then.

You stop chewing, a string of cheese still connecting you to the slice in your hand as you try to work out what they possibly could’ve asked you while you were zoned out.

“Oh, yeah that would be cool. I’ve never been to anything like that before.” You smile, trying to seem invested.

“We were talking about having another benefit like that one soon.” Yoongi supplies helpfully.

The only benefits you had been to were beyond dull. Always in a stuffy museum, with art that never had emotion behind it. Each ticket had cost more than an average person’s salary, and the food had been the most pretentious concoctions ever imagined. You loathed attending each one, a fact your husband knew.

He just sighed and repeated how you only needed to attend to be seen. He would promise that you wouldn’t stay to late, and each time you would be amongst the last of the guests as he laughed along with yet another boring old man’s recount of a hunting trip. Hunting trips were common among your ex-husband’s crowd, they never seemed to see the irony in having hybrids within their homes and then hunting regular animals for sport.

Jungkook gets very bored when he gets left alone. So bored he often ends up doing weird shit until one of his mates walks through the door. Today isn’t too bad. Yoongi and Namjoon said they weren’t going to be gone long, just to the mall to get some things that they had been running low on. An errand that always goes much faster when they don’t have Jungkook with them to get distracted every five minutes ( A much cheaper trip without him needing a little treat too).

The men stayed with you while you ate. You mostly listened to them while they talked, occasionally muttering assurances to demonstrate that you were actually listening to them this time. When you finished your meal, they said goodbye and headed in the opposite direction to you, back towards the parking lot as you and Noelle continued on your mission to find clothes.

______________

He wraps himself in Jimin’s favourite blanket and lies upside down on the sofa so his hair dangles to the floor. The TV doesn’t make much sense this way up, but it does provide a fun new perspective.

He barely hears the door open two hours later. The blood rushing around his ears almost blocks out the sound.

The older man tilts his head to look at Jungkook upside down.

“Kookie? What the fuck?” Namjoon asks coming into Jungkook’s eye line.

“I dunno, got comfy.” He shrugs.

“How many people am I going to have to save from the floor today?” Yoongi shakes his head, bending to help Jungkook up.

The motion throws off his balance and he slides onto the floor at his hyung’s feet.

He’d so badly wanted to like you for Jimin’s sake but you just made him so uncomfortable so quickly. The only predator he had ever warmed to quickly had been Namjoon, so he wasn’t expecting miracles, none of them were. But you had been so rude.

Jungkook looks at the pair confused as they share a knowing glance, a joke from today that he isn’t privy to. That’s when he smells it on them. Smells you on them. He can’t help the whine building in the back of his throat as he nuzzles frantically into Yoongi to change the scent back to his own.

He finishes scenting Yoongi and turns to immediately do the same to Namjoon. The bear accepts the affection gladly, cuddling the bunny in close and dragging him back to the sofa.

“We weren’t gone that long bunny.” He shushes.

Jungkook continues to bury himself into Namjoon’s neck, barely pausing to listen to the other speak.

“She really isn’t that bad Kookie, and she barely touched us, we can’t smell of her that strongly.” He sighs, pulling the rabbit’s hair to make him back away.

“Smell wrong, not my Joonie.” He reasons, earning an eye roll from Yoongi.

Jungkook whines again but concedes because he can no longer smell you on them. He hoped it would be a long time before he had to see you again, but Jimin and fate seemed to have other plans...

_____________

By the time you arrive back at the shelter, most of the day staff have gone home. Noelle heads straight down the corridor and into her dorm room to set her bags down. Instead, you collapse straight into a chair in the common room without really thinking, feet too tired to keep moving.

You’re sat for less than five minutes when you are tipped on to the floor with a bump.

“What is your fucking problem??” You growl, standing quickly and backing the lioness into a corner before she has a chance to sit down.

Even standing up straight with your teeth bared you have nothing on the other woman. Naturally a much bigger breed, you never stood a chance as she swung for you. Her claws connected with your cheek, not giving you the chance to duck. Immediately six other predators descend, separating you from her.

You press hard against the scratches, blood dripping over your fingers. The others take Lyra into another room, management following quickly behind.

You’d shocked yourself when you’d rounded on the other predator. Violence had never been an option you took, you had frowned upon other predators that resorted to violence before their words.

A hand is on your shoulder, guiding you back to sit down in the chair again. Tears sting at your eyes as you finally start to feel the pain of the wound. With cloudy vision, you can make out the flame red-hair in front of you. He reaches up and peels your hand away from your face.

“This is going to hurt Y/N.” He warns.

“Can I change rooms tonight?” You sniffle.

Something warm and wet is smoothed along your cheek, stinging as he cleans the blood away.

“There is no way you are staying here tonight Y/N.” Jimin says.

“Oh, is it because I started a fight? I get it, I’ll find somewhere else to stay... thanks for all the help though.”

You try not to let any more tears fall at the prospect of getting kicked out. He rest a hand on your shoulder as you go to stand, preventing you from going anywhere.

“That fight wasn’t your fault, you didn’t start that, you just tried to finish it. Lyra will be getting kicked out, that’s her third strike... But she has friends here and I want you to be safe. You are coming home with me.” He states more like it’s a fact than a request.

You start to protest, the idea once again sounding ludicrous. But then he presses his hand to your cheek again, and the pain is bad enough to have you second-guessing your judgement.

Masterlist

He dresses the wound on your face and disappears to make Namjoon aware of the new arrival while you pack your things back into your bag and get ready to leave.

Series masterlist

#bts fic #bts smut #kpop smut #kpop fic #bts imagines #jungkook fic #namjoon fic #yoongi fic #seokjin fic #hoseok fic #jimin fic #taehyung fic #bts hybrid #hybrid bts #outside of the fox

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abimee · 5 months

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i need to flesh out tock's lore more cause theres a lot of stuff that sort of floats around about her that i dont know if i want to make canon to her or not but i do want something concrete. especially in regards to her and luka cause endwalker brought some tasty ideas forth

like i personally really like the general comcept of her and luka's footsteps being out of sync in terms of parallels between wol!luka and wol!tock but their paths still paralleling each other, since mags started playing this game much earlier than me, but since we experienced endwalker together they momentarily came really close to this sort of nebulous/metaphorical/magical idea of their worlds "touching" --- they exist in each others lore as non-wol counterparts (luka in tock's lore is just a catboy back home who likes to go fishing and isnt an adventurer, and tock in luka's lore is a dwarf on the first who wants to write music about luka's adventures since she herself cant leave kholusia), but even their wol selves are interconnected in a way

ultima thule is where they truly get to "meet" in a way --- i do however like the idea that their paths became one earlier in endwalker though, but it was in ultima thule that these two seperate universes could collide since ultima thule is a nest at the edge of the universe, so its here where two distinct worlds could only ever truly meet. and thats where the depiction starts of Tock sort of "feeling" someone here

even though i technically experienced ultima thule first irl, i like to imagine Tock hearing an echoe (for the song, Echoes in the Distance) of someone else walking alongside her, and a sort of metaphorical foot path she follows after this apparition (coming back to Footfalls), and it gets loudest at Base Omicron. I always played around with the idea that the graha tia in Tock's universe of Shadowbringers who gave his memories to Tock's Graha was in some way connected to Luka, so Shadowbringers was where Tock first felt this sensation of someone beside her, since Shadowbringers was the endgame when i started playing. Its nothing either of them are fully aware of, but Graha is one of the "bridges" between their two universes that is papee thin yet there

and of course at the walk up to the elpis flowers I think that sensation returns, and simce dynamis is what manipulates ultima thule and made these apparitions of others appear, that the little piece of wol!luka that exists in wol!tock's heart made his existence manifest to her side, not as his own person/recreation of him, but more like dynamis drew down that barrier that these two from colliding, yet neither were fully present --- Tock was still in her timeline and Luka in his, but in ultima thule their footfalls briefly lined up and the two becames, as they say, "close in the distance"--- and as Tock walked herself up the path to meteion, luka was doing the same in his own timeline, and they briefly walked together through the hardest and final test of their hope

From there the concept becomes fuzzy because i always try to keep tock and luka as wols seperated so i dont wanna step on mags own oc lore, since luka is not mine and hes got his own rich and complex meanings for endwalker and ultima thule, but sometimes i like to think about what it wouldve been like if in that moment of using the azem stone and standing before meteion Tock saw Luka, the true Luka, for the first time.

but this is all again not necessarily canon because mags is always putting crazy good thoughts in my head and due to not writing down my endwalker thoughts and how. OUGH endwalker is im always reworking these ideas and moments because ultimately all i need is to know that where tock walks is the same path luka walks and they both walk forward together even if they dont know it. Because to Tock Luka is a catboy back home she needs to return to because hes waiting for her return with a warm meal and to Luka Tock is a dwarf on another start he needs to return to because she'll have a new song for him. But little do they know they are so much more to each other in places close in the distance

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thediktatortot · 11 months

Text

I just had a idea:

Billy and Eddie hit it off really well when Billy first moved into Hawkins. Neither of them were able to hide each other's affections for very long either, falling into a hard and fast type of romance that both of them were having a blast in, having the time of their lives and didn't plan on stopping any time soon.

Then Billy dies in the Starcourt mall fire and Eddie's drifting and no one knows why. It's why he fails highschool for a second time and has to push everything to the side long enough to help Wayne pay the bills and keep his weed habit paid for.

Then Eddie comes face to face with the very evil he's been told took down Billy, took Billy away and snuffed him out like he was water to a flame. It's all stacked against him though, his heart, his life, his luck.

Eddie's taken from them too and so goes the last person who knew about the secret love that Billy could have given them.

------ The Crow AU (Hold the Crow Familiar)------

Billy doesn't know how he's breathing, but he's taking in sharp bursts of breath as he crawls up from rubble that had apparently been dozed over him, fingers breaking concrete and bending bars in his struggle to make it to freedom.

He's filled with a rage he can't seem to let go of and it fuels him to break himself out and into the open air. He's in an abandoned work site. He's hurting though, a fiery pain seeming to radiate through his body simply because his mind is telling him that's what he should feel. He has to look at himself to see there's nothing wrong. It still feels like something's there, like his bones are just at the cusp of breaking beneath the weight of something heading his way.

He's confused and disoriented but the longer he walks the more small bits of things come back to him. He remembers fire and bangs of light that make his heart race and he can remember the sound of glass breaking and his sight leaving him for just a while, his legs shaking lightly as though he's close to passing out.

He also remembers crying, remembers searing hot pain all through his body as he struggled to breath through the oppressive heat of the air around him.

Billy's whole body thumps into the front door of his house when he tries to open it, staring at the handle for a moment before realizing his key didn't open the door.

There's also a car he's never seen parked in the driveway, a flowery mailbox that wasn't there before, and below his feet there's a doormat that says "Welcome to our House".

It takes Billy a few moments of looking at all these details before he turns and walks away, now heading down the street to another house that he remembers in his head. It's a trailer Billy remembers, run down and dimly lit by the warm light swarming with moths that he had sat in front of on many occasions.

The smell of weed and cheap beer on top of the smell of recently cooked burgers comes over him as he remembers looking up at that light, making some comment about turning it off and someone replying in a tangy sounding voice that sends shivers down his spine.

This is a good memory.

Billy wants more of that, but the haze of pain and fire clouds his thoughts as he makes his way down the dark road towards the trailer in his memories.

It's dark when he gets there, the police tape surrounding the neighborhood having been ripped down and there's no lights on coming from inside the trailer. There's police tape there too, blocking off entrance to the front door and surrounding the property in broken waves.

Billy makes his way inside slowly, the police tape breaking against his stride as he steps into the trailer and shuts himself inside.

Something happened here, Billy can feel that, stepping on the moist carpeted living room as he feels a sense of dread building up inside of himself. He looks up at the dark stain ripping through the ceiling of the trailer's inner walls and it's like he can watch it happen with all his senses.

He is Chrissy Cunningham, he is also Vecna watching her as he claws into her mind and into her most vulnerable memories and claws her mind away like meat from a shell.

He hears screaming, so much screaming and he can't tell if it's himself or Chrissy or Eddie-

Eddie. Eddie. Where is Eddie?

Billy stumbles away from where Chrissy was ripped out of this world and into the hallway, dragging mud and dirt along the old carpet floors as he stumbles into the bedroom at the end of the hall.

It's like being shot over and over, the memories of Eddie crashing into him one after another as both the wide smile of his goofy grin and quick energy of Eddie's personality is quickly over imposed with blood and the sound of shrill cries.

He is both the Demobats and Vecna, watching as Eddie is mowed down by droves and picked apart one flap of his wing at a time.

Billy cant scream anymore, his voice raw and broken as he falls to his knees in the middle of the trashed bedroom and cries. It hurts so bad. It hurts like nothing else Billy has ever experienced, he had something good, something happy and fun and it was all taken away from him, taken away from Eddie.

And now Billy's here and Eddie's gone and he can only imagine how it felt for Eddie to loose Billy. Did he cry? Did he feel such a gaping loss as though it was a cavern inside of his chest that would never get shallower? Was the thought of getting up and trying again just another painful drag of the claws of sudden loss as bad for Eddie as it is for Billy?

Now he's angry.

The rage Billy first felt as he struggle to open his eyes and claw his way from the rubble is back and the only thing Billy can't think about is revenge. What left is there for Billy? His life is gone, his only connections are gone, the one person who had given Billy the time of day to show his true self is gone.

What would Eddie do?

Probably put on a show, turn up the music and say 'fuck it' as the world fell down around him.

Billy's already on his feet and moving towards the bathroom, opening and closing draws until he finds what he wants and dumps out a old box of shitty gas station brand makeup he knew Eddie kept for his gig nights.

It's ridiculous but Billy feels like he has to do this, has to find some thing that connects him to Eddie as he sets out on his mission. It'll be his mask, his own performance like Eddie would have cheered him on to do.

It's not perfect and it's smudged around the edges but Billy can't help but stare at himself in the dark bathroom mirror after he's nearly smashed the pencil liner between his fingers.

He looks ridiculous.

Eddie loved ridiculous.

With a wide grin at the mirror to himself, he feels like he can feel Eddie with him, the smell of his hair next to his face and the tangy voice of his telling him to embrace chaos and he's gone, dipping out into the night to enact his chaotic plan of vengeance.

#Mungrove #Ficlet #Billy Hargrove #Eddie Munson #Crow AU #Hold the Crow Familiar #I wanted to add the crow familiar but I just couldn't get it to vibe with my writing #The Crow Billy Hargrove

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drippingheart · 10 days

Text

Firm fortitude. Malleable mind. Nothing was truly set in stone, for even the stone itself eroded and became weathered over time. What's done is done — the attitude of a child, of a toddler, who knew neither tears nor wishes could bring back the dead and create happy days out of nothing. If wishes came true, the world would truly be a wonderful place; children would be with their parents, and children would be with their siblings. Wake up, wake up, wake up. No, Fushiguro Megumi was not wishing for such a thing was futile, wasted breath — he was merely talking to his sister.

Fushiguro Tsumiki was the strongest person he knew, genuinely. Stronger than even the revered six eyes and limitless user for her smiles and hers alone were brimming with unflinching compassion and positivity even after all that happened to her, to them. Megumi was nothing without Tsumiki. The last thread of familial bond was wound so tightly upon his digit yet became thin and strained with time. Red thread connecting people's lives, sharing the crimson qualities of blood. Blood. Already bruised from the conclusion of another school fight, the tender flesh gave way with ease under the ministrations of a curse.

He knew well of the origin of curses having been taught thoroughly by none other than Gojō Satoru, yet it seemed the thunderous clouds hanging above the teenager's head attracted the the very same creatures who were birthed from foul feelings. It was good. Megumi needed it. The two curses which found him were nothing which warranted a call to his benefactor @thehonoredwon, and they were rather simple to exorcise despite the abrasions to his flesh and the uncomfortable trickle of blood. Drip, drip. It followed the curve of philtrum, over his cupid's bow, and dripped down to stain the tips of digits scarlet.

The red thread connecting people. As if transfixed, malachite eyes did not move away from the sight of the droplets marring his flesh and dripping further to mark the concrete ground with macabre breadcrumbs. People, rightfully, ignored the sight of what appeared to be a mere student delinquent. No one wanted to help him, and Megumi certainly did not want any of their help . . including that of the strange sorcerer with fox-like eyes. Though if Megumi really thought about it, the sorcerer had not outright offered any help save for obscure words. Getō Suguru had lost two curses.

Two curses which he had plucked away from the heads of two frightened children who had appeared at his temple, along with their guardians, much in a way a physician would clinically remove a wart. Quick and painless. The children were certainly overjoyed, and what did the parents give him? Nothing but a few thousand yen as offering. Pathetic. The little cockroaches had served their purpose, and the weak curses had served theirs as well. Everything serves a grand purpose such as the words with rolled from tongue and lips with great care.

── ❛ What a familiar face you have. Most sorcerers do come from prominent lineages of families. ❜

The casual air of voice matched that of appearance. Suguru purposefully forwent with the typical flair of his gojo-gesa and geta, instead he donned plain civilian clothes matching more of the style of his teenager years than a man in his prime. It seemed fitting at the moment. All Megumi knew was it was a strange encounter from someone who what? wished to be friends with another sorcerer despite their age differences? Forming connections with people was certainly not Megumi's forte, but he was not entirely dense nor thought himself alien compared to humans and sorcerers. He simply . . did not care for it. The man's words continued to echo about inside the teenager's mind though.

── ❛ Fushiguro Toji! Ah, that's right. It's all clicking in my head. I knew him once, yes. Gojō Satoru was acquainted with him as well . . ❜

It couldn't have been. He never heard of him. Didn't know that name; didn't remember what his father looked like outside of the old sketches he used to produce as a toddler . . just dark scribbles of a man with onyx hair walking away. Megumi knew boredom, frustration, anger, and peace ( with his shikigami ), but heart-lurching surprise caught him by surprise. With blood beginning to drip down from his nose, a million thoughts ran through the child's mind while Suguru watched, quite pleased with himself. Megumi knew those devious eyes were hiding something.

No person approached another with such nonchalance for nothing. Despite the calm expression and even calmer posture of the stranger, Megumi felt he was being trapped. Trapped for what? Ensnared and injured. Satoru built him up to his one of his strongest allies what with the ten shadows technique, but at that moment, with heart hammering in his heart, he genuinely felt his age. And Suguru left him like that, feigning important business to tend to as a means to leave, but not leaving without a —

── ❛ Sorcerers should stick together. Maybe we'll cross paths and chat more in the future~ ❜

Megumi's belly was coiled snaked. Acid bubbling up. The snare was wound around his ankle and perhaps that too was crimson coloured. Threads upon threads. With frustration, the teenager elevated the sleeve of his uniform to scrub against his nose. It didn't matter; his uniform was already a mess from fighting, and he was bound to get suspended anyway. He snapped his eyes away from the sight of the blood and continued the lonely march home to an apartment barren of life. Once inside, shoes were kicked off and not placed neatly on the shoe rack.

His sling bag was discarded, too, without much a care by the door. Alone, he stripped himself of his soiled uniform and dumped the fabric into the washing machine. In the shower he scrubbed himself red and raw until the scrapes of his flesh screamed as if he could erase the strange encounter with the unknown man. He could not. The words and those eyes stayed with him throughout the night as he spent the afternoon and night in the tiny apartment he shared with Tsumiki, completely drowned in darkness. They stayed with him the next day, and the day after, until Megumi finally bothered to retrieve his mobile device and shot an SMS message to his benefactor: 'can we talk about Tsumiki?'.

#𝟬𝟖 maximum uzumaki .#𝟬𝟖 chimera shadow garden .#thehonoredwon

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russosafehaven · 1 year

Text

Setbacks - 7

Pairing: Jigsaw!Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Content: SH, Suicide, Same warnings as other parts

POV: Second

BR Taglist: @snowkestrel @judig92 @k-marzolf

Setbacks Taglist: @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

A/N: Not having a great day, so this is a little lighter :)👍

It’d been hours since you had ran away and Billy was itching to go find you. Amy had convinced him to wait, suggesting it might give you time to calm down. Oh how wrong she was. Somehow you had found your way to the Brooklyn Bridge. Overlooking the city’s skyline with an aching in your chest.

Over the years of your addiction you thought of many ways to take your life. Overdose, jumping, cutting, starving, anything. The first attempt was when you were 11 years old, you tried to choke yourself to death with a Ravenclaw tie your mum had brought you. It didn’t work. Neither did the next few strangling attempts. When you were 13 you’d overdosed, slit your wrists and wrapped several ties around your neck. It was the first time you’d been hospitalised. The staff didn’t care all that much, just doing the bare minimum before sending you home.

One of the male doctors had told you that as the damage was superficial they didn’t need to help. That all you needed was a good nights rest. Years after that incident you’d gotten worse. To the point where you’d once cut down to bone. The hospital still didn’t care, as long as you were alive right?

There’d been many times you had walked out to the bridge. Looking out over the edge. Waiting for that rush of adrenaline so you could jump over the edge. When you were a teenager it became your solace. No one ever looked twice at a kid with scarred arms looking over the bridge. It would be a mercy to let you jump.

You wondered if Billy was out looking for you. Maybe he wasn’t it. All this time you’d been nothing but a burden. He didn’t deserve this, any of it. The man didn’t need another mess to keep up with.

Your eyes trailed down your arms, the bandages soaked through with blood. This time you hadn’t gone too far but it was enough to let the blood leak through. Dropping against the concrete of the bridge. A sick smile coloured your face as you began to climb over the railing. Gently you lifted one of your legs, letting it dangle over the edge. What would happen if you just… let go?

Back at the warehouse Billy was freaking out. He had punched a wall and Amy cleaned the blood from his fist. The skin raw and stinging with so much firey pain. Curtis and Frank didn’t know what to do. This was Billy they were talking about, he never cared about people. What was so different about you? Frank thought back to what Amy said at Madani’s place.

“Maybe it’s because she reminds you of yourself?”

Amy brushed her hands over Billy’s bruising knuckles. Wrapping them in a crepe bandage gently. The girl smiled at the scarred man, a sweetness he never thought he’d experience.

“You love her don’t you?”

His eyes widened. Billy looked like a cat in the darkness. Pupils blown wide yet he was ready to pounce. Maybe that’s what this was, maybe it was love.

“I don’t love her, she just means a lot and she does this stupid little thing when she wants to swear where she censors herself. She makes me feel human”

Amy chuckled as Billy spoke. It’s like she was the only one who could see it.

“That sounds like love Billy”

Shit, the girl was right. Billy Russo was in love, Billy the fucking Beaut loved someone and wanted to settle down. Something no one ever expected.

Back at the Brooklyn bridge a figure in a black and red suit appeared. There was a red spider in the centre of their chest. You recognised him as Brooklyn’s Spider-Man. He landed next to you, grabbing your arm.

“Hey lady, I don’t know you but honestly I just had a really rough math test and I don’t think I can handle this right now”

With his help you climbed back over the railing. Spider-Man walked you off the bridge and you tried to make conversation.

“No one’s ever stopped me before… they see the scars and I guess they think it’s in vain to try and stop me”

He walked you into an alleyway, there was a backpack webbed to a dumpster and he rid himself of his suit. Behind the mask was a teen boy, dark skin and curly hair.

“I get it, I’ve seen plenty of kids try and jump. My names Miles by the way. I normally don’t go around sharing it but I feel like it would help for some reason”

He chuckled and you did as well. Miles was just a kid and he cared more for you already than your father ever did. You walked down the streets of Brooklyn with him, chatting along the way. He was open to listening to you, although you strayed away from darker details. Focusing primarily on Billy.

“This Billy guy sounds like he really cares about you. Are you sure he doesn’t love you? Sure sounds like it”

You shook your head, Billy loving you? It was something of your wildest dreams. He could never love a monster like you.

“Doubt it, he’s just a good samaritan”

Miles let out a huff. The boy knew you were lying and he didn’t need spider sense to tell. The way Billy treated you is the way he treated Gwen. He was in love with Gwen just as Billy loved you.

“You look down on yourself too much. He looks after you with everything he has to give. I do the same for this girl Gwen. I’d do anything for her, that’s what love does to us”

Did Billy love you? Or was it some sick trauma bond? Fuck you needed to talk to Billy.

#billy russo #billy russo imagine #billy russo x reader #ben barnes #the punisher imagine #the punisher #x reader #billy russo angst #frank castle #billy russo x yn #spiderman #miles morales #miles morales spiderman

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