#I was watching terminator 2 when I saw this and it was like

[5oclocksomwhere]

Party 4 U

Title: Party 4 U

Song: “Party 4 U” by Charli XCX

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Lennon Vale (OC)

Rating: Mature (drugs, emotional intensity, dark romance)

Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama, Psychological

Word Count: ~2,100

You didn’t even come to my party… I gave you no RSVP.

I threw the party for him.

The lights flickered like dying stars in the Cameron estate’s east wing, the part Ward never walked through anymore. I had on the black slip dress I stole from a boutique on the mainland, coke dust still smeared under one nostril. I was barefoot. It felt poetic. He always said I was better when I bled a little.

I waited all night.

But Rafe didn’t show up.

Two Weeks Earlier

“Why do you keep coming back here?” I ask, pushing a stray curl behind my ear. My nose is already numb, and he hasn’t even passed the bag.

Rafe sits on the cracked balcony ledge of the Chateau, a Kook with a bruised ego slumming it in Pogueland. He flicks his lighter but doesn’t light anything. “Because you’re worse than I am,” he says flatly.

I don’t argue. I just take the coke and split it into two uneven lines. I always give him the bigger one. Maybe because I want him to feel something. Maybe because I don’t want to.

He watches me closely. There’s something feral in Rafe’s eyes, always. Like he’s on the edge of either kissing me or killing me.

“You know JJ’s gonna lose his shit if he sees you here again,” I mumble, wiping my nose.

“JJ’s a joke,” he says. “And you’re not a Pogue.”

“Then what am I?”

He doesn’t answer. Just stares at me like I’m the worst habit he ever picked up. Like I’m not Lennon Vale, the girl who went to boarding school with Sarah Cameron before they pulled me out for setting a dorm on fire. The girl who used to be rich, before Daddy overdosed in a Hilton suite and the lawyers swallowed everything.

Now I’m just the girl Rafe calls at 3 a.m. when his hands won’t stop shaking.

Party for You

I don’t remember inviting anyone else. But word spreads fast on the island, especially when a Cameron throws a party. Even if it’s only me.

Topper showed up with Kelce, already high on something glassy. I didn’t ask. Sarah was there too—for a while. She left when she saw me stumble in Rafe’s sweatshirt, the one that smells like Marlboro Reds and whatever brand of chaos he’s selling this week.

“I told you he’s poison,” she snapped in my ear before storming off, and I almost believed her.

But when Rafe finally came, around 2 a.m., eyes blown wide and shirt unbuttoned halfway, I knew I’d been waiting for something worse than poison. Something terminal.

“You look like you’ve been crying,” he said when he found me on the floor in the guest bedroom, the music a dull thud behind the walls.

“I threw a party,” I whispered, blinking up at him. “For you.”

He didn’t say anything. Just knelt beside me and kissed me, soft and dizzy, like he was trying to inhale my soul.

Everything I do is for you

I always wanted Rafe to love me the way I loved him—reckless, with no seatbelt. But he only loved me when I was breaking.

We snorted together in church parking lots. Drove to the edge of the marshland with windows down and screams caught in our throats. We kissed like we were daring each other to feel something.

“You’re just a Pogue with Kook problems,” he told me once, spitting the words out like venom.

“Better than a Kook with a God complex,” I shot back, and he slapped me. Not hard enough to leave a mark. Just enough to make me want more.

After that, he cried. Curled up in my lap, snot-nosed and shaking, and said, “You make me feel like a person. I hate that.”

I kissed his forehead. I didn’t say anything.

The Day the Island Split

We ran into JJ at the Boneyard.

He clocked Rafe before either of us could speak. Fist to jaw. Blood to sand. I screamed something incoherent, probably his name, maybe mine. JJ looked at me like I was the traitor, not him.

“You’re gonna end up dead,” JJ said, eyes wild.

“Maybe that’s the point,” I whispered.

Rafe laughed with blood in his teeth. “She gets it.”

We disappeared into the woods after that, my hand in his. We were Bonnie and Clyde, just dumber and higher and maybe more doomed.

Come if you want, don’t if you don’t

The next party I didn’t plan. Rafe dragged me to it—another rich kid’s house, full of coke and guns and kids pretending to be hard.

He kissed another girl in front of me. She had perfect tits and no idea who he really was. I watched from the pool, chest-deep in chlorine and tears. When he came back, he smelled like perfume and cheap vodka.

“You gonna cry about it?” he said.

“No,” I said, grabbing his face. “You are.”

I kissed him hard, bloodying his lip on purpose. He didn’t stop me. We fucked in a linen closet while people danced twenty feet away. When he came, he whispered my name like it was an apology.

Final Scene

He finds me on the roof of Tannyhill three days later. I haven’t slept. My jaw’s locked, my eyes raw.

“I thought you died,” he says. He’s barefoot, too. Maybe it means something.

“I’m not dead,” I say. “Just waiting.”

“For what?”

“For you to come to my party.”

His hands are trembling. I want to hold them but I’m scared I’ll break him more.

He sits beside me, legs swinging off the edge. “I never wanted to love you.”

“I know.”

“I think I do.”

I close my eyes. The wind’s cold. The world’s quiet. Maybe it’s enough. Maybe we’re enough, even if it’s ugly and ruined and full of powder and blood.

I lean my head on his shoulder.

“I’d throw a thousand more parties,” I whisper. “If you’d just come to one.”

And Rafe, for once, doesn’t run.

The end.

also - I take requests!

[fluideli123]

Hope you are having a great day today

Awe!! Thank you for this ask it made my day better!

I hope you are having a great one too, you spark joy and I am so glad you'd found your way into my inbox <3

[piratewinzer]

“oh yes I’ve watched it a very normal amount of times like uh...fi....fif...fifty?”

I think conversations like these are hilarious:

"Oh yeah I love that show I've rewatched it so many times"

"Oh yeah me too, how many times have you seen it?"

"Three!"

And then I'm always like "...". How do you tell a person you're insane?

[baeshijima]

— spoils of war

as heir to the throne, you were more than prepared to face the consequences of losing a war. your duty will forever remain for as long as you breathe, and if that meant bearing the weight of countless sacrificed souls and carrying it with you for the rest of your life, or even being forced to watch your land burn before your eyes was the price you had to pay, then so be it.

the last consequence you could have ever expected and were the least prepared for, however, was an offer of marriage from the ruler of the victorious nation.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 3.5k wc, fluff, slightly suggestive ending, royalty!au, marriage of convenience (kind of), vague mentions of war & blood, mentioned assassination attempt, mentions of having children (very vague and in the "heir to the throne" kind of way), use of "mydeimos" and "mydei", reader is having an existential crisis; mydei is, um, mydei-ing, written pre-3.0

A/N : is this ooc? um... we will find out haha !! (the moment i saw this man i was wondering how i could royal au-ifiy him (outside of him already being a crown prince, that is). i thought of him being a mercenary or personal guard, but @sfznyxio ty for putting the words 'king' and 'mydei' in the same sentence when u showed his drip in the server bc this idea was born and now i am terminally unwell for him 🙏 but also how did this turn into an actual fic when it was literally a 2 para brainrot in discord... where did this plot come from...)

King Mydeimos, present ruler of Kremnos Kingdom, is infamous across the lands. He is a rumoured tyrant thought to have killed his bloodline in order to obtain this position, whose name alone strikes fear into many, and the very same being who just won the war against your own kingdom.

When marching through the capital to reach the steps of the palace after seizing victory and bathed in the lights of glory, his troops following close behind, you thought he would demand for the materialistic spoils such as the kingdom’s trove, maybe choose to seize control over the defeated land and its troops, or perhaps even wreak further havoc within the castle walls. Given the name he has built for himself, it certainly wouldn't surprise you if he decided to forgo all formality and instead brandish his sword like a blood-bathed barbarian.

And so when he appears in the palace entrance, the setting sun giving his rugged appearance a far more... put together look than expected (you refuse to admit the enemy's ruler to be... handsome, of all things), a recitation of prayers hammered into your head throughout the years of etiquette training spring to mind. If you're destined to fall here, you at least wish to perish with thankful thoughts!

...At least, that was the original plan.

So why is it now you're hearing him ask your father and mother, the king and queen of this now defeated kingdom, for your hand in marriage? Where did this sudden formality come from? No, why is he suddenly bowing to his defeated enemies? And— lord almighty above, did he really have to do this here and now? In front of your nation's high council and his own men, no less!

It is safe to assume every jaw except for Mydeimos' dropped into the nether realm, all eyes gawking at his tall, unperturbed figure bowing in respect towards your parents in the centre.

Having probably sensed the rather awkward air bubbling amidst the dumbfounded troops, your parents turn to you in wait for your decision. Despite the apparent pleas in their eyes for you to not agree to such a ludicrous turn of events, what choice do you really have other than to accept? Who knows what this so-called tyrant could do should you refuse this offer when he is being so lenient!

An audible gulp escapes the base of your throat the moment his scalding gaze locks onto you after your hesitant words of approval, searing a trail of where his eyes trails onto your skin.

Seriously, you haven't been on the receiving end of many — if any — wars, but you're almost positive they don't end this... pleasantly, for a lack of better words.

(Who would've thought you would be a spoils of war, as opposed to the national treasure trove...)

Set to depart when the sun rises, there is little time to gather your bearings and your belongings. Servants are bustling while your parents crowd around you, asking if you're really going to go through with this and, “You can say no! If they don't take your rejection well, we can smite them with our army!”

To that, all you have to say is, “...What army? They're all dead.”

They didn't take that very well, if their concerning increase in flowing tears have anything to say about it.

The send-off is nothing too grandiose, save for the entire palace standing at the gates shouting farewells through tear-streaked wails and blowing handkerchiefs. Your parents are at the forefront of it all. Your mother holds your hands as she tells you to return promptly if it gets too much regardless of the consequences (you appreciate the sentiment, but you don't want to burden your family nor your nation because of a dislike), while your father stands before Mydeimos with an order for him to treat you well and respectfully and, “If you damage even a mere hair on my beloved child's head, I will have your head on display!”

...Perhaps that would have been more threatening if not for the slight tremble of his legs and waver in his voice but, again, you appreciate the sentiment. Mydeimos, if anything, takes it in stride with a calm nod of his head and a promise to take care of you. Really, does anything other than the battlefield phase him...?

Soon you're in the carriage and settled opposite your soon-to-be husband, on your way to your new life with a heavy heart. Is this what all your training to take over the throne has surmounted to? Have all your efforts and dedication spent on being the perfect heir for your kingdom simply come down to being wed to an enemy nation's ruler?

Well, perhaps “enemy” is not the right term anymore; not when both your kingdom's are now in a mutually beneficial alliance, along with the promise for one of your heirs becoming next in line for your kingdom's throne.

Ha! What makes him so sure you will have more than one between you?

...Was what you had asked back when he first made the declaration to your parents, only for him to respond in kind with, “If you'd rather adopt, then we can do so.”

(Bastard. Can't he break composure at least a little?)

As the ride drags on, silence permeates. Whether it is the lingering nerves you hid from your parents or this suffocating intimidation confined within the small carriage space, one question still remains at the forefront of your mind: why did he decide to marry you? Truly, it miffs you. He could have just left you to suffer in the downfall of your nation if he wished to do so, or even let you stay as the heir to the now-allianced kingdom.

Upon questioning his motives for your hand in marriage, his response was merely a slow blink before uttering, "The council wouldn't stop pestering me about getting married."

Oh. Was it really that simple of a reason?

Lips pursed, you press a little more. “Then why did you add benefits, such as an alliance with my kingdom? Even if you, King Mydeimos, were to just—”

“Mydei.”

“—just cut down…” trailing off at the sudden interruption, you blink at his cross-armed figure seated across from you. “Oh, um, what?”

“Mydei,” he repeats once more, attention solely focused on you. “No need to bother with formalities. Just refer to me as such.”

“Oh, well, alright... Mydei?” At your uncertain tone, he nods, as though urging for you to carry on. “Right, well, as I was saying... What was I saying...?”

Without missing a beat, he responds, “You were asking why I offered your kingdom a mutually beneficial alliance when I have the means to cut down the nation with brute force and take what I want through violence.”

“Oh, right…” Huh. Did you say all of that? Well, you certainly were thinking of it, but were you that harsh in your wording? Considering how he recited it all without hesitation, you probably did say all of that, with him being a pretty good listener and you perhaps needing to think over your words before you speak them. “So what is your answer to my curiosity?”

“I simply thought you would be happier if I spared your land and made an offer both of us would benefit from.��

“...I see. Well, thank you for your consideration.”

“Think nothing of it.”

And so the ride continues in silence once more, though this time you find yourself more at ease compared to the prior situation. You, however, still have your doubts about the benefits he gave with the alliance proposal, amongst the absurdity of this entire situation.

...Is the man sitting before you really the feared tyrannical ruler people made him out to be? Surely he is being far too merciful for someone of such reputation. There has been no threats, no coercion (well, if you don’t count the whole marriage fiasco as such, but you did willingly agree to it…), no usage of violence — did people perhaps badmouth the wrong monarch?

Then again, the majority of his prowess and achievements stem from the battlefield. Was all this information just mere hearsay from those jealous of his noteworthy feats, or do their words truly hold some merit in their claim? And really, what do you know about Mydei? From his thoughts, to his motives, to the reasoning behind each action… you know nothing.

Well, considering how he has entertained each of your whims thus far, he has the ability to entertain one more, right?

“Mydei, if I may,” you start, looking to him for approval to continue. When he nods encouragingly, you continue. “You said you made an offer we would both benefit from. While I acknowledge the military and protection we receive from you, what benefit do you reap from us?”

Had you not been eyeing him so intently, perhaps the subtle stiffening of his muscles or twitch of his fingers would have remained unnoticed. 

“Apart from the high quality agricultural and material trade, I have obtained one more thing. Rather than a benefit, however,” he trails off, gaze shifting to the carriage floor. His voice tapers slightly, subtleties of fondness seeping into his tone. When his eyes move to meet your own once more, your mouth runs dry at the undeniable warmth which swirls within his gaze, the rapid pounding of your heart betraying your thoughts. “I consider meeting and having the privilege of marrying you to be the most priceless of rewards I could have obtained.”

(...Who knew a subtle smile could be so beautiful.)

Settling into your new role as the co-ruler of Kremnos was a far easier transition than you’d anticipated. Despite some initial apprehension at your sudden intrusion into the citizen’s lives and you being from another nation, the reactions you were greeted with upon arrival were well-within your expectations.

Apprehension? Sure. Skepticism? Great. Concern over your abilities? Fantastic! Immediate, wholehearted acceptance with preparations already made for your arrival? Um… Come again?

Yes. Compared to the civilian’s very normal, completely expected doubt and uncertainty about you being thrust into the role of their new co-ruler, the same cannot be said about the palace staff. The moment Mydei helped you out of the carriage, a line of servants were at the ready, lined up with the necessary preparations already made to look after you. Your dumbfoundedness must have been quite obvious for Mydei to take note, squeezing your hand with enough pressure and warmth to anchor you down and fill you with comfort before guiding you through the tunnel of awaiting servants ready to receive his orders.

While a little unnerving the palace staff’s ready acceptance and preparation for your arrival may have been, you cannot deny the flicker of warmth which surges when spotting something that reminds you of home.

That particular fruit you enjoy only found in your homeland? An abundance has been procured with the palace gardener equipped with all the necessities used to grow it, alongside a bed of your favourite assortment of flowers already beginning to show signs of blooming.

There was a certain dessert you enjoyed partaking in? Look no further, for the palace patissier has already mastered all the techniques needed to make it the most delicious version you have ever tasted!

Oh, you’re used to having a certain textile in each of your fabrics and certain colours are more to your preference? Don’t worry, the temporary bedroom used until your wedding is made to your liking, and once the wedding is complete your shared bedroom will have all the necessary arrangements!

Truly, the experience of having practically everything needed for your stay to be comfortable already prepared was an… interesting one, to say the least.

It doesn’t escape you, however, the manner in which everyone is rigid in demeanour and stiff with etiquette when in the presence of Mydei. Ducking their heads to avoid eye contact, tensing their bodies as though afraid one subtle movement will trigger his wrath, rushing away as quickly as possible once given their respective orders.

He doesn’t appear bothered; if anything, matters outside of you and battle don’t seem to move him at all. He merely regards everything as a duty to be carried out, an honour to uphold and see through so long as he bears the weight of his title. 

Despite his admitted nonchalance for most matters, you have seen him be expressive on several accounts.

Like that time you were both strolling through the extensive garden holding pleasant conversation about each other’s day, stopping to admire the roses and ready to sing the gardener’s praises, only to catch the smile and unfairly soft expression directed towards you. (Seriously, the difference a smile and relaxed expression can make on his features should be criminal.)

Or the days you choose to visit the training ground and catch the battle-hardened fervour of a warrior which radiate so starkly within his typically stoic demeanour, easily parrying and holding his own against even a large number of his knights rushing to best him, only to hastily avert your eyes when he takes note of your presence and amble his way towards you with a towel in hand. (Well, his torso is practically on full-display all day, but somehow seeing him entirely shirtless after a particularly gruelling training is a little… different.)

Not to mention that one night during your third month in Kremnos wherein an assassin managed to slip through surveillance and sneak into your room, only to be thwarted mere moments before the fatal strike as a sword pierced their torso, their cries of agony quickly silencing and the flecks of warmth clinging to your skin promptly discarded as the deafening hammering of your heart drowned out everything in the vicinity. You weren’t sure how long you were out of it for, but the image of Mydei’s distraught expression and uncharacteristic loss of composure is a sight you’re certain will never leave, much like the rare vulnerability found in his fragile, broken whispers of, “Not again... I thought I’d lost you again. Why must fate be so cruel? Please… Just this once, stay with me until the end.”

(You never really questioned how Mydei caught wind of the attempt or what he meant by his whispered words, too caught up in your near-death experience to properly process anything, but the immeasurable relief upon being embraced within his familiarity was undeniable as you melted into him, allowing him to stay by your side for the night and then the following nights soon after as his attentiveness only grew.)

The time from your first arrival has flown, and now, five months later, the long-awaited wedding is finally being held.

The ceremony itself was nothing too grand. Despite Mydei asking for your thoughts and preferences on how the ceremony should be held, the ideas he’d suggested aligned perfectly with your own preferences: a simple ceremony with the necessary guests in attendance for privacy, a ceremonial carriage ride through the capital to honour the matrimonial bond between you alongside quelling any uncertainties the citizens may have, and to end it all off with a banquet to diminish the doubt brewing from within the nobility of high society.

Thankfully, everything went off without a hitch. Your parents attended the ceremony and greeted you with a tearful embrace upon seeing you in your wedding attire. As it turns out, they will be staying as guests within the palace for about a week, all thanks to Mydei’s preparations. Apparently.

(Upon asking your parents who is taking care of the kingdom’s affairs in their place, you probably should have suspected it to be the trusted, overworked aide who has been by your father’s side since young. Despite his already cushy salary, he should get a raise for having to deal with all this.)

And as you stand here now, chatting idly with some of the knights in attendance who were present in the whole proposal fiasco, you find yourself believing that perhaps your new life here will not be as bad as you feared.

You have to admit, letting loose every now and then is rather rewarding. After all those mental and passive aggressive battles with some of the nobles before eventually gaining their respect and approval (you didn’t have strict heir training just to have nothing to show for it!), you can now relax and let the night pass by. With the knights talking joyfully amongst themselves, you’re sure the night will fly by.

Their topic of conversation shifts constantly, ranging from battle tactics to which is the best amongst savoury, sweet, or spicy to debates about whether that one maid and apprentice chef are secretly dating.

Eventually, the topic of conversation loops back around to your newly sealed marriage; you know, the whole premise for the current celebration. One of the knights, tickled a light pink in the face from the warmth of the venue and the drink half-emptied in hand, turns to you with a jovial grin.

“Y’know, until you came into the picture, I’ve never seen our king so happy and expressive. It’s a nice change.”

Another chimes, “Yeah! I’ve definitely seen him smile a few times when you visit the training grounds! Though he still glares daggers into my soul when we spar…”

“That’s because you suck and His Majesty gets a migraine just from the sight of your sloppy footwork.”

“Wha— hey! You’re the one with a weak swing and can’t even break the training dummy in one strike!”

“I’m telling you the material is tougher on the ones I’m given!”

A breathy laugh escapes you at their back and forth. Sometimes you forget how playful the knights can be outside of their intimidating demeanour, though you suppose their leader is similar in his own right.

Taking a light sip from your drink, the chatter of the knights slowly die down. Just as you’re about to ask if everything is alright, a warmth you have become able to identify looms over your back. It doesn’t take a genius to know why they stopped their bickering.

“What were you all discussing?” Mydei asks, moving to stand beside you with a drink of his own in hand. You weren’t expecting to see him until later, what with how swamped he appeared with greetings and talks of his own.

His knights seemed to have thought the same as you, if their apparent dumbfounded reactions were anything to go by.

“Oh, um, well…”

“We were, uh…”

“We were just chatting like good ole pals, haha…”

Stifling a laugh at their poor attempts, you decide it would be best to give them a helping hand. Mydei’s curious gaze certainly isn’t helping their case.

With an amused sigh you begin, “Nothing much. Just how much they admire and look up to you—”

“We were discussing how your dear spouse thoroughly enjoys the sight of your body at the training grounds!”

A deafening silence.

…You take back every nice thing you said about them. You hope Mydei exchanges all the training dummies except for his own for super-ultra-mega tough ones, just so they can feel the embarrassment you currently do when they are unable to break a mere training dummy.

First off, how did they even know this highly confidential information?! You most certainly were not openly ogling at your now-husband! (At least, you hope you weren’t…)

Second of all, here you were trying to help them save face from all their bickering, and what do you get in return? A loss of your own!

And third of all, that is blatant slander! In front Mydei, their king and commander, and your spouse, no less!

Ha ha. You don't know whether to laugh or cry at this turn of events.

In hopes of salvaging what remains of your thoroughly battered and bruised image, And there it appears, you quickly turn towards Mydei, a myriad of retorts ready to fire on the tip of your tongue. It fizzles out just as quickly as it appears upon what you find yourself gazing at. Though barely noticeable, the lingering remnants of his laughter which spill from that wretched curve of his lips never fails to speed up this traitorous heart of yours. And when his unabashedly amused gaze meets your own mortified one, your mind regains its former desperation.

Before you can think up a retort in a last-ditch effort to save face, he swiftly leans into your ear and whispers, “I would like to hear more about this. Perhaps you can enlighten me when we return to our quarters later.”

…Nevermind. Perhaps it is Mydei who should be getting the super-ultra-mega tough training dummy so he can taste humiliation for the first time in his life.

(However, despite the horrendously dizzying flush you are currently victim to, if it meant seeing his warm gaze and heart-melting smile more often then, perhaps, you wouldn’t mind embarrassing yourself in front of him every now and then.)

(Not too often, of course. That would be too much.)

if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33

trivia !!

wanted to add this section in case some might be wondering why i went with the timeloop trope yet again (if u did not figure that out from the bits and pieces throughout the fic + mainly the assassination attempt scene then, um, oops. haha.) BUT !! i actually decided to do a spin of his lore for it.

so in his drip market post, it says:

Kremnos, swallowed by mist! City riven between chaos and war! The blood of patricide flows through its royal line, and its god bears the title of calamity.

The undying Mydeimos, the lion apart from the rest. O Chrysos Heir that seeks the Coreflame of Strife, you must suffer a thousand deaths, be bathed in blood on the path home, and bear the madness of fate alone, for one was must slay a god to become one. Iron-hooves pound across the wilderness for the campaign, and must eventually soak in the blood of their homeland.

and mydei is also known by the following aliases "the last prince" and "the undying". now all of this info is more than likely referring to his ability to survive torturous pain, as opposed to dying and and resurrecting a thousand times (or maybe i am right... who knows...), but my first thoughts went to how he had the ability to come back to a certain point in this past after the so-called fate drove him to madness which he alone must bear.

in this context, i wanted for him to be a king who suffered a thousand deaths, but lived through a thousand lives of the same never-ending fate, doomed to watch the fall and bear the madness and watch as you in each and every lifetime suffer at the hands of a fate he cannot save you from. and that is why he marries you because he knows you even if you do not know him and will always choose to lead the same path if it means he has you by his side once more.

...does this make sense? maybe it does, maybe it does not, but what matters is it made sense to me ;w;

oops got a little carried away there with lore and theories um !! haha !! anywho that is enough from me ,,, if u read this trivia then hi !! ty for sitting through and reading my deep dive into the crumbs of lore and how i put my own spin on it :'D

[caitified]

BELLA-VERSE SCENARIOS PT 2

(bella being a diva & caitlin being her #1 enabler)

CAITLIN CLARK X FAMILY READER

1. bella refuses to walk at the airport

vacation was supposed to be relaxing. but that was hard to do when your two-year-old daughter refused to walk on her own two feet.

“bella, come on, sweetheart, we have to keep moving,” you sighed, adjusting the strap of your carry-on as you watched her dramatically stop in the middle of the terminal. her curls bounced as she plopped down on the floor, crossing her arms over her tiny chest.

“i tired,” she huffed, looking up at you like you had personally betrayed her by making her use her legs.

you pinched the bridge of your nose, glancing over at caitlin for help, but she was already bending down with open arms.

“come here, baby, i’ll carry you,” caitlin cooed, effortlessly picking bella up and balancing her on her hip.

bella immediately snuggled into her mom’s shoulder, her little hand patting caitlin’s cheek. “mommy mean,” she whispered, but loud enough for you to hear.

caitlin gasped, clearly enjoying this too much. “she is, huh?”

“oh my god,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “cait, you can’t keep giving in to her. she’s literally playing you.”

caitlin grinned, pressing a kiss to bella’s forehead. “babe, look at this face. how am i supposed to say no?”

bella beamed, proud of herself. “yeah, how?”

you exhaled, defeated. “you two are a menace.”

2. bella throws a fit at dinner because she wants your food, not hers

you knew this was going to happen. the moment the waiter set down your plate, bella’s eyes locked onto it with a level of intensity that should only be reserved for things like winning championships or world peace.

“i want that,” she declared, pointing at your meal and completely ignoring the plate of food in front of her.

you sighed. “bella, this is literally the same thing you have.”

she wasn’t buying it. “no, mommy’s better.”

caitlin, ever the instigator, leaned back in her chair with an amused smirk. “you know, babe, maybe she has a point.”

you shot her a glare. “don’t start.”

bella, sensing an opportunity, turned to caitlin with the biggest, most dramatic pout. “mommy, please?”

and just like that, you saw caitlin crack. she was weak. she was hopeless.

“okay, okay,” caitlin relented, already switching the plates before you could even react.

“cait!” you hissed, watching as bella giggled in victory and happily dug into your food.

caitlin winked. “what can i say? she knows how to get what she wants.”

you groaned, but seeing bella’s chubby cheeks full of food, looking as content as ever, made it a little hard to stay mad.

3. bella throws a meltdown over the wrong princess dress

you were just trying to get out of the house. a simple goal, really. but bella had other plans.

“i no wear this one,” she announced, dramatically flopping onto the floor in her diaper, kicking the completely fine princess dress you had picked out for her.

“bella, we’re running late,” you reasoned, holding up the dress. “this is the one you asked for yesterday.”

she crossed her arms. “yesterday not today.”

you opened your mouth, then shut it, rubbing your temples. “bella, it’s the same dress—”

“no. it’s not.”

caitlin walked in then, coffee in hand, looking amused. “what’s going on?”

bella immediately turned her big eyes on caitlin, pointing accusingly at you. “mommy mean. won’t let me wear my real princess dress.”

caitlin set her coffee down and crouched next to bella. “aww, baby, which one do you want?”

you groaned. “do not enable this—”

but it was too late. bella had already grabbed caitlin’s hand, dragging her to her closet.

five minutes later, she was in a different princess dress, tiara and all, twirling in front of the mirror like she was royalty.

you exhaled, throwing your hands up. “this was the same one i picked!”

bella smiled sweetly at you. “no, mommy. this one special.”

caitlin smirked, kissing the top of bella’s head. “she’s got taste.”

4. vacation troubles

vacation was going great—until bella decided she was old enough to drive.

“i do it,” she said seriously, standing on the seat of the golf cart with her little hands gripping the wheel.

caitlin, sitting in the driver’s seat, looked at you with a grin. “babe, i think she’s ready.”

you gave her a look. “she’s two.”

bella stomped her tiny foot on the seat. “i TWO.”

“exactly,” you said. “you cannot drive.”

but caitlin was already adjusting bella onto her lap, letting her hold the wheel while she controlled the pedals.

bella squealed in delight, turning the wheel back and forth as if she was in a high-speed chase. “fast, mommy, fast!”

caitlin laughed. “babe, she’s a natural.”

you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “i swear, i have two children.”

bella giggled, looking over at you with the biggest smile. “you love it.”

and despite everything, you couldn’t help but laugh. yeah, maybe you did.

5. basketball mom

caitlin had bella in her arms as the three of you walked through the grocery store, bella clinging to her like a little koala. it was one of those rare off-days where caitlin actually had time to do normal things with you both, and bella was so excited about it.

“mommy, we get cookies?” bella asked sweetly, tilting her head up at caitlin.

caitlin smirked. “did you ask your other mommy?”

bella gasped dramatically and turned to you. “mommy, we get cookies?”

you rolled your eyes, laughing. “we’ll see, baby.”

bella hummed, satisfied, and went back to babbling about the game caitlin played last night, recounting every move like she had been on the court herself.

“mommy ran so fast,” she told caitlin proudly. “and mommy made so many baskets. so many.”

caitlin chuckled, adjusting bella on her hip. “you think so, huh?”

bella nodded. then, as if spotting her next target, she turned to the cashier, a middle-aged man who had definitely not been expecting to be included in this conversation.

“your mommy play basketball?”

the man blinked. “uh, no?”

bella’s face immediately dropped. she turned to caitlin, her little curls bouncing, eyes wide with shock. “mommy, he say his mommy not play basketball.”

caitlin bit her lip, looking at you like, is this real?

you exhaled, already knowing this was about to become a thing.

“that’s right, baby,” you explained, smoothing a hand down her back. “not everyone’s mommy plays basketball.”

bella blinked. slowly. processing. then she turned back to the cashier. “your mommy play football?”

the poor guy let out an awkward chuckle. “uh, no, she was a nurse.”

bella’s mouth dropped open in absolute horror. she turned to caitlin like this was some kind of tragedy.

“mommy,” she whispered dramatically. “he say his mommy not play any sports.”

caitlin burst out laughing, hugging bella tighter. “that’s okay, baby. not all mommies play sports.”

bella’s little face scrunched up like that was the saddest thing she’d ever heard. she pressed her cheek against caitlin’s, pouting. “but they need a basketball mommy.”

you sighed, rubbing your temple. “cait, you need to fix this.”

caitlin was grinning ear to ear, absolutely thriving off bella’s belief that she was the standard for motherhood.

“i mean, she’s got a point,” caitlin teased, kissing the top of bella’s curls. “every kid should have a basketball mommy.”

bella gasped excitedly. “we need fix it!”

you groaned, shaking your head as caitlin just laughed and kissed bella again, the two of them feeding into each other’s egos.

“we’ll start a campaign,” caitlin joked, winking at you. “every kid deserves a basketball mommy.”

bella clapped her hands, nodding. “yes! yes! good idea, mommy!”

you sighed, looking at the cashier, who was just watching this unfold with pure amusement. “this is my life.”

caitlin smirked, looking at you. “you love us.”

you rolled your eyes, but even as you exhaled, you couldn’t help but laugh. “yeah, yeah.”

[josies-eden]

“You must stay.”

(Possessive?)Hwang In-ho x (fem)reader

~{ A oneshot where you were caught trying to escape during S2 after the cliffhanger. The Frontman, or In-ho, didn’t want you killed, so he had you subdued instead. Brought to him.}~

~{ ((A/N)) I know that there’s already a player 047, but just negate him. I chose my lucky numbers for this :3)) }~

♪♪ ~{Obstacle 2 - Interpol}~ ♪♪

~{No Y/N mention}~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Coughing out the dust, you crawled through the vent, a loose screw with slash marks in it led you here. Someone must have attempted to leave in a past game, but you had definitely made it further along. The vents were banging around you loudly as you crawled, although you tried to stay as quiet as possible. Occasionally you came across vent openings beneath you, seeing guards and pink walls, along with a dark room with screens. Knees and elbows aching, you could only wish to find an exit.

Crawling along further, you saw into the mingle game. It made you want to throw up and cry at the same time. The dizzying lights, the crack of the poor man’s neck, and the sticky blood in the humid room. It was such a horrible experience. Tears pricking at your eyes, you scurried away, hoping to wash the memory of that from your mind.

Eventually though, you started an incline in the vents. Seemingly going up yet another level in this massive complex. You couldn’t remember how many inclines and declines have been at your knees but it was getting exhausting. You wondered how Gi-hun and Hyun-ju were holding up. You wondered if they knew you were gone yet. You wondered about Jung-bae and Young-il. About how they had moved on, how they were to never grace your eyes again. Trying to remove those thoughts and stay focused on your mission, you treaded forward, palms red and knees scratched.

On a turn left instead of right, you froze. A guard was standing outside the vent you were in, covering opened, and gun aimed inside. Scrambling the opposite way, your other exit was blocked too. The predicament bringing sweat to your palms, causing the dust to stick and cake. You felt like a deer in headlights.

Disgusting and horrified. It wasn’t long before you were surrendering, knowing that they’d just chase you through the vents.

A deafening shot rang out from your right, and the last thing you saw was the guard on the left reaching in to drag you out.

“Player 047 eliminated.”

In-ho stood, the freezing room housing no sound but clicks of the arcade machine shaped terminals. But when the announcement rang out, and your beautiful face cleared from the screen before him, he knew what happened. His radio went off, the head of security calling him to floor 6 to see the contestant. The man huffed to himself a sigh of relief and exited. Only thing heard were the clacks of his dress shoes.

When In-ho was under ‘Young-il,’ he had one mission. To interfere with Gi-hun, and to watch him suffer. He got what he wished for, but another thing was distracting him.

You.

You looked so pure to his old eyes. Wet lashes shining from tears, round cheeks and angel soft hair. You were near Gi-hun’s group, chatting with 390. It seemed the man was trying to cheer you up. Saying things like “What’s a pretty face like you doing here.” And “It’ll be alright.”. When In-ho approached, he was enamored. Shy face, trying to shrink into your track suit behind Jung-bae. He never thought you’d be brave enough to try and escape like this. The man thought about you day in and day out after that. His dreams were filled with your beautiful eyes. Angel like voice filling every one of his waking thoughts. He was enthralled with your perfection.

He dragged you into every room with him during mingle. Even though that snap of bone brought tears to your eyes, you knew it was for your shared survival. It was still horrifying seeing him work so strategically while killing, like the sweet man had done it thousands of times before. He helped you keep your focus during the pentalathon, even though you were on a different team, he was cheering you on. His eyes were always on you, and his words were always on your mind. He shared his food with you at every meal, and when there was gimbap, he hid his fork up your sleeve for extra protection.

In-ho was captivated. You reminded him too much of his late wife. The curve of your jaw, the hopeful look in your eyes, the way you picked at your nails. It was like she was back again. Every little detail and habit. And he was not about to let that go. When the rebellion started, he told you, “Under no conditions, are you to follow us.” And you obeyed. The man sighed, knowing that his ‘death’ would break you, but he had a plan to get you back. That was moot now, for your little escape plan interfered with his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pain surged through your veins, shooting your tired mind awake. You massaged your neck, where most of the soreness originated from. Feeling ambitious, you press your fingers at the centre of your neck, and let out a low groan. Those bastards didn’t kill you. They want to torture you instead.

There were soft sheets beneath you, contrary to the rough ones of the dormitory, and you dared to open your eyes. It burned, but subsided quickly as you took in the world around you. Black geometrical walls, warm, golden light bouncing off certain parts. It was rich and fancy. But you looked down at yourself in comparison. The black comforter messily strewn out next to you. But there you were, alive. Seeing your body still dressed in that sweat soaked and bloody track suit made you want to throw up. Especially since it was clashing against these clean, fresh sheets.

The room was freezing cold, shivering from the low temp, wispy cool air surrounding you. Pulling up the blanket helped in no way, as you continued to shake. The dust from the vents still glued to your skin, a cold sweat awoke to loosen it. At this point, you didn’t care that the mess of your tracksuit and skin got on the sheets, it was one small way to get back at the people who made this stupid game. You shivered under the blanket, curling into yourself. Your knees being brought to your chest hit something plastic between your ankles, making you whimper at the slight sting.

An ankle monitor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In-ho heard your small noises from his sleek, leather chair, sipping his whiskey fresh out of the decanter. Sighing to himself, he set his crystal glass down with a clink before making his way to the locked door you hid behind. He made sure his mask was on, and opened the door. The man could hear the sad whimpering fleeting your lungs when he opened up to see you.

A little bunny, burrowing away in fear. You looked so helpless, so fragile. When you looked at him, In-ho could feel the terror rushing through your body. Didn’t you know this was for the best? For your own safety?

“Good morning.” In-ho started, approaching the little mound in the bed. “How are you feeling? Are you hungry?” He asked, modulator vibrating his neck as he spoke. You would figure out eventually who he was, but now was not the time. Oh how he just wanted to pounce onto you, show you that you’re his; but the more logical side of his brain held him back. One step at a time, he told himself.

You refused to acknowledge what he said, trembling in his pinning gaze. But feeling the twists of your stomach, you frowned. Shyly, you nodded.

“Now that you’re awake,” In-ho, or ‘The Frontman’ began; “In the bathroom right here is a pair of clean clothes and a shower. Please freshen up. Your food will be ready by the time you are dressed.” You looked at where he pointed, hidden in the geometric layout of the wall was a small, golden handle. The man before you nodded and left, allowing you privacy.

What…. The fuck. That man. Your captor. The room, the voice, the robe? What the fuck was going on. Were you still at the games? What the hell was all of that? You were horrified that he was going to come take you to a room worse than the one you laid in. Fearing something may happen if you didn’t obey his orders, you opened the bathroom door.

The countertops were sleek, gold gilded black granite with a golden faceted sink. The floors were solid hardwood and the whole room smelled like comfort. warm cinnamon and cranberry. As much as you hated it, it was comforting. There was a clean, folded pair of baby yellow silk pajamas on the counter, with a black towel alongside them.

Eventually peeling the disgusting clothes off, you threw them down the black laundry chute in the wall, listening to it thump down the vents, just as you did however long ago. Starting the water, it hissed at the perfect pressure, warming up slowly. You took the time to look at yourself in the mirror. Slick with sweat, covered in dust and dirt. Scars, scratches and gashes down every few inches of flesh. Your skin was pale and malnourished, heavy bags beneath your dull eyes, their usual bright life drained. It felt so gross looking in the mirror. A husk. But you had to clear your mind of it. The bath was calling.

In-ho was flipping an egg as he heard the shower start. Happily sighing. He knew from his infiltration time as ‘Young-il’ that you enjoyed eggs, he even gave you his early on with breakfast during the games; which were to end in a day. The man could only hope that you’d accustomed to your new life. Even though you had only been conscious for less than an hour. He plated your egg, starting to slice some fresh fruits as the rice steamed. There was a pot of jigae cooking slow next to him, preparing to give you a feast. You deserved to be treated like an angel, that’s what you were to him.

As he was transferring all of the fresh food to the bar in the kitchen, he overheard the shower shutting off. A few bangs of cabinets sounded through the walls, and he knew you were probably searching for the first aid kit. You were pretty badly hurt from mingle and red light green light, so he thought to go help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Knocking at the door awoke you from your trance. Underwear, bra and pants were on as you tried to fix yourself up. Whimpering as you padded towards the door to peek out, the same man who greeted you earlier stood. Without permission, he opened the door the rest of the way, letting himself in. He gestured for you to come over, holding sterile items from the kit.

“Come on over. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help.” He said in a flat tone. Something about it you could briefly recognize. The way he spoke, the way he carried himself. It was familiar. You couldn’t tell because of his identity concealers, but you knew this person. You obliged, feeling a little more comfortable, still uneasy because you couldn’t put your finger on who this man was. He gestured for you to sit on the counter.

You sat as he raised your arms, cleaning your wounds, dressing them with his gentle hands. He was too familiar, and you looked to the mask, trying to see through the mesh eyeholes to see the man you knew. You were broken from your staring when he lifted a pant leg, and started disinfecting a large gash. Tears filled your eyes from the stinging pain, and you held back a whimper. The man in front of you put his free hand on your back, rubbing in comforting circles. This was all too familiar. He wrapped your calf before backing off.

“You are all taken care of. Finish up and meet me just outside your room.” With your hair brushed and your shirt on, your took one last look at the ankle monitor before passing out to the door. The man stood there, his gaze focusing down to you as soon as you blessed his vision. “Follow me.”

Padding down the hallway, there were a few similar doors to your own, and the exact same geometric walls. It was a beautifully designed suite, but a cage is still a cage, no matter how pretty. He led you past a massive screen to a bar with a plate of seaming food and a bowl of fresh made jigae. Upon seeing this feast, your body caved and you realized just how hungry you were.

“You were only out for a day… I had my guards use special tranq darts just for you.” The man spoke at the opposite side of the bar from you, chuckling slightly to himself. He listed his mask slightly and ate bits of his own food. You scarfed down every last bite, grain and drop of your meal, leaving cleaned out dishes and you feeling full. “You don’t need to eat quickly, you will always have hot food available. No matter what.” The man before you spoke, his modulator being one of the last things keeping you from figuring out.

“Why….? Why me?” You croak, throat shot from the day without water and the tranq drying your throat. The masked man turned, grabbing you a crystal glass of ice water.

“I’ve seen you. I liked you. I’ve saved you. You are an angel.” He said, cut straight to his point. Behind the mask, In-ho wanted to spill out apology after apology. For not sweeping you out of the games earlier, for not protecting you enough, for not shielding your eyes and ears from the horrors of this place. Those heavenly eyes looked upon him, analyzing every single inch of his body. His mask. He felt as she could read every segment of his cells. And only she could do that. His late wife, god rest her soul, couldn’t make him feel like that. His angel blessed him with another. To keep him company. And he would not let this blessing slip through the holes of the game.

“Who are you?” You broke the frontman’s trance this time, and behind the mask, he stared.

“I’m guessing you have a clue, hm?” He teased, getting closer to see the fine details on your angelic face.

“I know you….” You said so quietly, it was practically to yourself. You analyzed closer, you could see the slight shape of eyes beneath the mask’s holes. The light giving you hints of this man. The sunken eyes, half lidded and calculating.

“Let me take you somewhere else.” Stopping your train of thought completely, leaving you on a blank. “Follow.” He commanded, leaving the kitchen in fast footsteps. You grabbed your crystal glass of water as the frontman led you to his screen, flicking on his prized jazz set. “Sit.” He gestured to the chair. You sat, the leather envelopes your skin comfortably and he hands you a throw blanket. A few clicks from behind you and now the massive screen was on. The games.

“What did you do to Young-il…. Jung-bae… what happened?!” You say, curling your knees to your chest as the screen showed the remaining players in the dormitory.

“Do you want me to show or tell you.”

“Show me…. I saw enough in the games…. I think- I think I can handle it…”

“Very well.”

The screen before you flicked to Jung-bae and Gi-hun captured before the man behind you. He went on a short speech about Gi-hun’s hero route. Before blowing out sweet Jung-bae’s heart. Eyes wide as Gi-hun sobbed over his best friend’s death, tears slipped down your face too. And In-ho saw those beautiful lashed eyes, plump blushed cheeks and your angel soft hair again.

“What about Young-il?” You whimpered, clutching yourself close.

In-ho debated for a moment. “He’s…. He died outside of camera view.” He walked further to your left, in your peripheral. “He lives on as someone else.” Now it was your chance to debate yourself. You wanted to sit and sob, or jump up and tear his mask off.

But he already did the latter. Your Young-il stood there beside you. Modulator gone, covering gone, eyes sunken further and hair slicked. This wasn’t your Young-il anymore. This wasn’t the kind man who gave you his food, who cheered for you, gave you comfort at night, and most importantly, saved your life. This was just a husk of that man. You wanted to hug him for some semblance of the past comfort he gave, but at the same time you stared, shocked at his actions. Jung-bae didn’t deserve that.

“I want to go home.” You sobbed out, unable to react to anything else.

“No.” He growled, hand placed on your nape, his thumb rubbing soft, comforting circles. Time completely contradicting his soft actions. “You must stay. You are my angel. Remember? You cannot leave me. I’m not letting something so pure leave my grasp again.”

You continued sobbing, confused by your own feelings, all you knew was these two drastically different men in one body. But you knew the loving, caring man more than this seemingly vile one. Giving into part of yourself, you turned, launching yourself into his arms, wailing.

“It’s okay, angel… come one, let’s go to bed. It’s been a hard day.” He said, you moan an agreement into his neck, muffled by the rough fabric of his robe. His hand on your back, he escorted you to the place you started the day. (Or night..?) “Stay. i will get changed. Get comfortable.” He ordered, sitting you onto the bed. You got under the new covers. He must’ve had someone replace them while you were eating. But he returned a few moments later. Turning down the chandelier’s light to a very dim glow, he laid down next to you.

“I will explain everything in the morning. Get some sleep, angel.” ‘Young-il’ said, scooting close to you, warming your back. It was like the night after the pentalathon; ‘Young-il’ held you, the soft glow of the piggy bank illuminating your faces as you shared comfort.

It felt almost as if you were back to that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~{A/N - Yay!!! Another one :3 I saw you guys enjoyed the first fic I wrote so I wrote another :3 I posted these on AO3 too!!!}~

[betweenstorms]

Chapter 5/2 of Skin Of Thunder Where Butterflies Go to Die (previous chapter) (next chapter) (all SOT chapters) (masterlist) Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader

“In the corner of the universe, where butterflies go to die, there is no farewell, no final flutter, just the slow, quiet decay of something too soft for this harsh world.”

They say war makes strange bedfellows—

—and Ghost had encountered his share of hard men.

Grizzled bastards with twitching trigger fingers, the kind who chewed nails for breakfast and pissed adrenaline by midday. He’d stood alongside monsters and martyrs, saints and absolute lunatics, but nothing—nothing—had steeled him for this particular torment.

Sharing an office.

With you.

It was beyond a piss-take. Beyond cruel.

It was damn near biblical in its irony, the universe folding in on itself just to spit in his bloody eye one last time. Ghost had never been one to suffer fools gladly. And Price knew it. Laswell knew it. Hell, even Johnny knew it, though the Scotsman seemed to take particular delight in testing his limits.

But this—this fucking arrangement was beyond the pale. It felt like he’d been assigned penance for sins he couldn't remember committing, stuck in some goddamn infernal loop designed specifically to break whatever brittle patience he had left.

And Price? Oh, that bastard had acted like it was all standard procedure, like it was the most natural thing in the world to toss a civvie into Ghost’s office, like it didn’t crack open every fault line running through him.

“She’s gotta be on a secure system now, needin’ constant supervision,” Price had explained, casual as you like. “Intel’s sensitive. Laswell sorted the clearance, but she needs access to the same internal threads we do. And your setup’s already logged into the mainline.” Then he’d added, like it was the final fucking insult, “You'll be in and out anyway, so it's ideal.”

Ideal.

Right.

“And that's my bloody job now, is it? Babysittin’?”

Then, to rub salt straight into the wound, Laswell had chimed in with that thin-lipped smile of hers, cool and precise. “She can use a second terminal in your office. It’s secure, and you’re already on standby, Lieutenant. Consider it insurance.”

Insurance.

More like a goddamn collar.

Ghost had felt his blood simmer beneath the surface of his inked skin, boiling quiet like tar. He didn’t argue—not then, not in front of them all. He wasn’t about to throw a tantrum in the briefing room like some bloody schoolboy. However, the worst part wasn't the supervision or the babysitting or whatever the hell they wanted to call it. No, the worst part was how you'd looked at Price when he'd broken the news, your lovely eyes widening for just a fraction of a second, discomfort flickering briefly before you wrestled them back into submission.

But Ghost saw. He always saw.

“Captain,” you'd said, carefully avoiding Ghost's gaze as though even looking at him might burn you. “I…I’d rather not. For the sake of—” your voice wavered slightly, only noticeable to Ghost because he'd memorized its quiet cadence “—for efficiency. I’ll work wherever is necessary but… I mean, perhaps there’s another option?”

Christ, you'd twisted that knife nicely.

You’d said it clean, professional, stripped of anything sentimental—but Ghost heard it. Every syllable, every crack in your voice that you thought you’d hidden. You didn’t want to be near him. And it wasn’t just the awkwardness, was it? No, there was something deeper, something raw, something personal. He wasn’t proud of the prick he’d been in recent days, cold, distant and dismissive, but to hear it from your pretty lips, like you were confirming what he already feared, it made something in him bristle. Snap.

Perhaps you didn’t feel safe with him.

And that?

That tore through him like fire to bone.

Soap watched the two of you curiously, blue eyes darting between you like he was waiting for one of you to crack under the heavy, suffocating silence. Gaz, ever the gentleman, cleared his throat, pretending to find sudden fascination in Laswell’s briefing notes projected on the wall—dry as dust intel summaries he’d read a dozen times already. Bloody saints, both of them, though even their patience was wearing thin.

Ghost felt a slow, familiar pulse behind his eyes, the onset of a headache that had nothing to do with fatigue and everything to do with frustration.

Price had simply looked between you both like he was watching two starving dogs refuse to touch food from the same bowl, unimpressed and annoyed. His blue eyes flicked from you to Ghost and back again. To you. You, you, you. Then he sighed. Rubbed a hand over his beard like he was already exhausted by the whole thing.

“We need every crumb of information to stay ahead,” he said at last, quiet but firm. “And that means she stays. End of. Understood?”

And just like that, Ghost’s personal hell was no longer hypothetical.

It was tangible.

Seated at a spare desk.

“Computer’s up,” he muttered after you received your new keycard, voice low and clipped. “Credentials’re in the doc. Top right. Don’t fuck with anythin’ outside the brief.”

There was a pause. Then the faintest response.

“…Yeah. Okay.”

The desk had been rearranged the day before.

He’d done it himself. Not out of bloody kindness—don’t get it twisted, alright?—but because he wanted it done his way. Wanted the extra computer set up without some sprog fucking up his cable management or scratching the floor. He’d moved the filing cabinet to the corner. Shifted the printer so you wouldn’t bump into it. Cleared shelf space without a word. Brought in a chair from supply.

Then he hadn’t spoken to you directly.

Not properly, anyway.

Not the kind of talking that meant something. Oh, there’d been clipped exchanges about access codes, network redundancies, a few low grunts that barely counted as acknowledgement when you handed him requisition reports, but nothing more. You didn’t speak unless you had to, and even then, it was filtered through that hesitant, professional tone that made his skin itch. The sort of voice someone used with a wounded animal, unsure if it would lash out or die right in front of them. The air between you had grown thick, congealed with everything unsaid—an atmosphere heavy with blame, silence, and that awful brittle tension he couldn't name without wanting to break something.

He’d avoided the office for as long as possible. Made excuses. Took longer shifts in the yard, cleaned weapons that didn’t need cleaning, spent hours going over briefings that could’ve been skimmed in five minutes flat. But eventually, he had to return and had to face the quiet storm waiting behind that reinforced door.

You didn’t look at him.

You never fucking looked at him anymore.

You’d mastered the art of avoidance with lethal precision, eyes fixed on your monitor, hands always busy, nails tapping away at your keyboard, flipping through secure files, highlighting shit that didn’t even matter just to avoid acknowledging his existence.

And Ghost? He was haunted.

Not by you, precisely—but by everything you made him feel.

You weren’t particularly loud. You didn’t argue. Didn’t press for conversation or prod him for answers. But that silence? That deliberate, careful stillness of yours? It was a fucking mirror, and Ghost hated what he saw in it. He didn’t know which part of this arrangement was worse, your physical presence only feet away from him, or the gaping emotional absence you carved out with every moment you refused to meet his eye.

The desk they’d shoved in for you sat awkwardly opposite his. It didn’t belong there, like a daffodil in a field of fucking ash. You brought shitty little things to make it yours, ridiculous things that only made his teeth grind. A crooked pen holder. A mug with some cartoon dog printed on it, Sip Happens written on the side. A half-dead orchid that tilted dramatically to one side, clinging to life like it shared your anxieties. You set a framed photo beside your monitor, face turned away from him, but he knew it was family. The ones you’d walked away from for this job. The ones you probably thought about when you got that look in your eyes like you were far away—

—too far for him to reach.

And the smell.

Fucking hell, the smell of you.

You had started wearing a new perfume.

A soft vanilla fragrance that clung to the air long after you were gone, sweet like gingerbread and warm like cinnamon. It was maddening, in the way it lingered on the fibres of his coat, slipping past the edges of his mask, invading his every fucking breath. God, each inhale was a reminder—of your proximity, of the softness that he couldn’t escape, of everything he had sworn to deny himself.

He hated it.

He hated how it made him think of your throat, your collarbones, your pulse—a delicate thing that beat wildly whenever he got too close. He could hear it. He could fucking hear it some days, like your body knew before you did that he wasn’t safe to be around.

And maybe he wasn’t.

Maybe that was the worst of it. Maybe you were right to flinch.

The second terminal clicked to life at exactly oh-seven-thirty every morning, your fingers dancing softly over the keys, your files already open, your stupid bloody bubblemint gum chewing in rhythm with the tap-tap-tap of your work. He hated that too. Despised the smell, loathed the sound, disliked how it stuck to the roof of his mind long after you’d gone.

A sickly-sweet echo in a sterile grave.

Worse still were the colours. Jesus Christ, the colours.

One day it was a burnt orange jumper with some wild pattern like shattered glass, the next, a seafoam green blouse that floated when you moved, sleeves far too soft for the hard edges of a military base. Once, you’d left your coat draped over the back of your chair. It was yellow. Canary-fucking-yellow. He stared at it for ten minutes straight before grabbing it with two fingers like it might burn him and chucking it onto the spare hook behind the door.

He didn’t say a word about it. Didn’t need to. Who the fuck wore shit like this to a secure military base? You did.

And somehow, no one said a word.

They all liked you, the poor bastards.

And him? Ghost couldn’t so much as look at you without his chest tightening like a fucking vice. That’s because you only smiled at them. You tried, even when it wasn’t easy. Even when your eyes looked like they were swallowing something bitter, you still offered those small, childish grins to Soap and Gaz, thanked Price with a polite nod and a soft smile, left little notes attached to requests that read, Cheers, much appreciated! :)—always a fucking smiley face that nearly drove Ghost off the edge.

And then came the jumper.

It was late afternoon. The rain hadn’t stopped all day, a cold, insistent drizzle that blurred the outlines of the military base. Fog hung low, thick enough to smother the huge fence line. The concrete courtyard shimmered like oilskin, puddles reflecting the dull overhead lights. Ghost had been delaying his return to the office, circling the armory like a buzzard, pretending to be needed elsewhere. But eventually, paperwork caught up with him. Somehow, it always did. It was nearly seventeen-hundred when he trudged into the small admin wing, water trailing off his shoulders, balaclava damp beneath the collar of his jacket.

He stopped dead in the doorway.

It was the jumper.

Pink.

Soft as sin.

Not just pink—pastel. Fucking marshmallow pink, with baby blue butterflies fluttering across the material. The knit was soft, oversized, sleeves nearly swallowing your hands. And to top it all off, like some cherry dropped on a maddening sundae, you’d tied your hair up with a satin ribbon. A bow. Baby pink, matching the jumper.

He stared.

Longer than he should have.

You didn’t look up, busy typing, your brow furrowed in concentration as your fingers danced across the keys, glossy lips pursed as you stared ahead. You were focused, efficient, barely even chewing your gum today. Probably had no idea the sight of you had just disarmed him completely. He stood there like a twat in the doorway—drenched, dripping, jaw clenched behind the mask.

Bloody hell.

He'd been shot at in better company.

Ghost stepped inside, boots thudding against the floor, shoulders soaked. He set his jacket on the back of his chair with deliberate slowness, every movement precise. He tried to pretend it didn’t bother him. That the knot in his stomach was something else. That his throat hadn’t gone dry. That his first thought hadn’t been how the fuck are you real?

Instead, he said nothing. Sat at his desk. Logged in.

The silence stretched, taut and unbearable.

And then you spoke.

“I can feel you judging me from here.”

Ghost stripped his hands bare from his wet gloves, each movement methodical, deliberate, like peeling skin off bone. He looked up slowly, water trailing down the curve of his mask, darkening the collar of his grey shirt. Your voice wasn’t sharp, wasn’t even defiant.

If anything, it was dry. Flat.

Meant to cut tension, not draw blood.

His eyes swept over you again.

“You look like a kid’s party threw up on you.”

You glanced up with a quiet sort of weariness, as if you’d already endured worse in the past hour than his barbed humour could throw at you. You just gave a small shrug and went back to typing. There was something almost impressive about that—

—the way you didn’t rise to the bait.

“Better than looking like a drenched funeral,” you murmured, not even looking at him.

Ghost froze.

For a second, the silence between you hovered—surprised, stunned, teetering on the edge of laughter or violence. And then, against all odds, he let out a quiet sound behind the mask. Not quite a laugh. More a huffed breath. Barely there.

Fucking hell.

Were you making jokes now?

Ghost leaned back slowly in his chair, the furniture creaking beneath the weight of him, the soft clatter of rain on the windows crawling through the silence like a dying beast. You didn’t glance up at him again. Didn’t chase his reaction. Maybe it hadn’t even been a joke. Maybe you hadn’t meant to slip humour into your tone at all.

After what felt like an eternity, you exhaled slowly, a soft breath that seemed to release all the tension that had built between you. Then, much to Ghost’s surprise, you lifted your gaze to meet his—like a quiet surrender, something unspoken hanging in the air. You cleared your throat, the sound awkward and fragile, and spoke again.

“You know,” your lovely voice dipped into something almost sheepish, “when I was little, my granny used to sew patches on all my school uniforms. Little animals, stars, stupid stuff. I loved them all. But the butterflies were always my favourite.”

Ghost didn’t know what to do with that.

Didn’t know what to do with the image of you as a girl. Something about it made his ribs feel too tight, like someone had reached inside his chest and squeezed.

He cleared his throat. “Military family, yeah?”

You grimaced. “Unfortunately.”

“Doesn’t show.”

Your lips twitched.

A brief flicker of something crossed your face—wry amusement, maybe—but you smoothed it out before it could settle.

“No one ever says that like it’s a compliment,” you muttered.

Ghost watched you intently, mask still damp, jaw ticking faintly behind the fabric. There was no malice in his voice when he said it. Hadn’t been from the start. But his gruff tone was dry as dust, laced with that thread of disbelief he hadn’t quite managed to cut loose since the first day you’d walked into his life like a ray of fucking sunshine that had taken a wrong turn and ended up buried in concrete. Because Ghost had read your file.

Of course he had, alright?

All neat and clinical, tucked into the system under clearance only Task Force had the teeth to bite through. He’d memorised it in one pass, as he did with most things. Military family. Royal Marine father, Field Medic mother. No siblings. Just you. He didn’t get it. Didn’t know how someone raised by that kind of steel could move through the world like silk. As if you were daring the world not to tear you.

As if you were daring him.

He looked away.

It wasn’t shame, not exactly. Ghost didn’t do shame the way others did. It didn’t roll through him in waves—no, it sat in his gut like an old injury, dull and rotting, a scar so deep it didn’t bleed anymore. But he knew when something cut close to it. You did. You always fucking did. And the worst part was, you didn’t even know it.

You didn’t know what it meant to him, that you were still soft. You didn’t know that every time you breathed beside him, something in him ached with the effort it took to stay distant.

Ghost rubbed at his jaw beneath the mask.

The silence itched, thick and too close again, pulling at the frayed corners of his thoughts. He needed out. Needed something else. Anything else. A shift in the air. A crack in the surface.

Anything to steer this conversation back into safer territory, away from the swell of memory and the way your words made something ache behind his ribs.

He cleared his throat, rough and low, like gravel grinding together in the back of his mouth.

“You always dress like that?”

It was a pathetic deflection. He knew it.

Christ, he’d trained with SAS instructors who were better at subtlety, and they’d screamed orders in his bloody face at two in the morning. But it was something. A crooked bridge out of the mire he’d wandered into. He wasn’t cut out for mindless chatter. It stuck to his skin like blood that wouldn’t wash off.

You glanced at him, the corner of your mouth twitching.

“If I’m going down, might as well go down in pink.”

Ghost huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

“Pink’ll get you shot first.”

You shrugged. “Good. I hate cardio.”

That one hit him square. He turned away quickly, but not quick enough to hide the sound that slipped out—half breath, half scoff. A proper one this time. Almost a laugh. Ghost scrubbed a hand over his face like it might wipe the sound off his lips.

You were catching on, weren’t you?

Something shifted at your desk. He didn’t need to look to know you were glancing at the pen holder again—your absurd lavender one, now facing the wrong bloody direction for the third time this week. He hadn’t meant to move it, not really. He just straightened things when you weren’t around. Couldn’t stand when they sat wrong. Uneven. Off-centre.

You didn’t look up when you spoke again.

“Well,” you said, eyes crinkling, “I suppose I figured someone who sleeps in a mask wouldn’t keep rearranging my pen holder.”

His eyes narrowed.

“You line everything up like you’ve got OCD.”

Ghost grunted. “Just hate mess.”

“I had the pen holder right where I liked it.”

He tilted his head. “It was crooked.”

“It had character.”

“Looked like it was about to fuckin’ fall over.”

You chuckled.

Not loud, not enough to draw attention if someone were passing in the hall, but soft. Warm. Caught between amusement and something gentler, something more dangerous. It clung to the corners of the room, your laughter, like smoke that didn't know whether to rise or sink. It tugged at something inside him.

Something he didn’t want touched.

Ghost didn’t move. Didn’t let the sound show on his face. Mask or no mask, it didn’t matter. But it hit all the fucking same. Somewhere beneath the sternum. Right in the bit of him that still remembered how it felt to be young and too hopeful for his own good.

You were still looking at the pen holder, manicured fingers tapping idly against the desk like a metronome. Steady. Composed.

“You rearranged my orchid too,” you added, eyes still fixed on your stuff on your desk, though your voice had gone somewhere softer now. Less teasing. “Turned it so the dead side faced the window. As if that’ll save it.”

Ghost didn’t deny it.

Didn’t say anything for a long moment.

He just stared up at the stained ceiling tiles like they held answers. But they never did. They were cracked, yellowing at the edges, as if the bones of the building were decaying from the inside out. Bit like him, if he was honest.

“Looked like it were beggin’ for mercy.”

You huffed a quiet breath.

“You could’ve said something.”

Ghost shrugged. “Could say that ‘bout a lot of things, sweetheart.”

That landed heavier than intended.

The humour in the room faltered, dipped. Something about the way you looked at him, steady and unflinching, like you knew. Like you were beginning to understand the parts of him that had never been explained, only endured.

He didn’t like it.

He didn’t like the way you unraveled him, piece by piece, without ever needing to raise your voice. It was as if you were a butterfly, delicate and still, wings fragile but capable of slicing through his defenses with the weight of silence. Fuck, quiet women were dangerous that way, weren’t they? Their stillness was sharp, a blade wrapped in velvet, a soft breath that could break the hardest of hearts. And though he couldn’t explain it, it felt like each silent gaze you gave him was a death sentence he didn’t know how to escape from.

You dropped your gaze again, fiddled with your mouse. You were moving it around like it meant something, cursor flitting back and forth across nothing in particular, as if maybe the right file would save you from the thing you were about to say.

Ghost knew that look

He knew that kind of quiet. He’d seen it in interrogation rooms, seen it on battlefields, seen it in the cracked reflection of his own eyes too many bloody times. That look meant something had taken root in your chest. Something you couldn’t shake.

Something you had to say.

And still, he didn’t stop you.

Didn’t cut in when you finally exhaled through your nose, fingers stilling on the desk—

“About last week…”

—but he fucking should’ve.

Ghost’s spine stiffened.

His shoulders squared. It was like the temperature in the room dropped five degrees flat. That warmth from earlier, the faint and precarious glow you’d both managed to build between the bickering and the bad jokes, snuffed out like a candle under a boot.

He hadn’t expected you to bring it up. Not out loud. Not after you’d gone all stiff and quiet, spent a week hiding behind polite emails and perfunctory nods. He’d hoped you wouldn’t mention it. But you had to say it. Of course you fucking did.

“I, uhm…” you began. “I'm sorry. About the other day. When I… said your name.”

He stilled.

Every muscle. Every breath.

The hum of the office, the patter of rain, the distant clatter of boots down the corridor, all of it dimmed. Like the world paused, listening in.

“I didn’t mean to,” you added, the words tumbling quiet from your lips, “I mean—I know you don’t… like that. I just—”

“Don’t.”

You blinked, lips parted.

“I just thought—”

“You thought wrong.”

Your breath caught. He heard it. Felt it echo through the tiny crack that had started to form between you earlier—your laughter, your ribbon, the butterflies, the pen holder. All of it. 

Gone.

Ghost felt his fingers twitch.

Small. Barely there. A flicker in the tendon running from wrist to knuckle, like a misfire in his wiring. But he felt it. That spark. That itch under the glove he wasn’t wearing, the one that always came just before red bled in—frustration, anger, that sharp blade of discomfort when someone touched too close to bone.

Back to square one.

Christ, why’d you have to bring it up?

You’d spent the whole fucking week dancing around it, walking on the edges of things like the floor might give out. He’d let himself believe, foolishly, that the quiet was enough. But here it was. Resurrected. Like a ghost. His ghost.

His name.

Simon.

You’d said it once. One slip, soft and breathless and far too human, in the haze of that long day, right before everything fell apart. He could still hear it—burned into the inside of his skull. And now here you were again. Dredging it back up like it wasn’t a loaded gun in the middle of the room. Like it wasn’t the one thing he couldn’t afford to hear from your mouth.

He didn’t look at you. Couldn’t.

Because he saw it now—how your gaze shifted, how your voice faltered. You weren’t seeing the man who’d turned your dying plant toward the sun. You weren’t seeing the bastard who rearranged your stupid lavender pen holder. You were seeing the soldier. The mask. The rank. The man who ran from the sun. Who buried himself in shadows and discipline and the cold familiarity of his title. The one who pushed a girl dressed like a bloody flower bouquet away with the precision of a trained killer.

And still—still—you blushed.

Despite everything.

Despite the cold weight of the moment, despite the embarrassment that burned at your words, you flushed like it meant something. Like there was a part of you, even now, that wanted to know him. The man beneath the skull.

“I just…” you started again, voice so damn small he barely heard it over the hum of the monitors. “I just like it better. Your name.”

Ghost didn’t answer.

Not with words.

Instead, he reached for a report folder, hands steady, mask unreadable, spine carved from cold fucking stone. Your words floated in the space between you like fog off the moors, soft and shapeless and clinging to everything it touched. And still he said nothing.

Because what the fuck was he supposed to say to that?

Like it was that simple.

Like it wasn’t a curse. Like it hadn’t been ripped from his throat too many times in pain or grief, twisted into a tool by enemies, abandoned by fellow soldiers, swallowed by fire. His name wasn’t something he cherished. It was a reminder. A marker of a weak boy long dead and buried. A whisper the wind carried on bad nights, when the silence grew teeth and he lay staring at the ceiling wondering who the fuck he was anymore.

And you liked it.

He didn’t breathe for a long second. Just stared down at the folder like it might offer him some lifeline, some foothold, something to grab onto.

But it didn’t. Of course it didn’t.

So he flipped it open, and said, “That all?”

Your chair creaked.

He could feel it. That quiet, wounded gaze of yours.

But you didn’t press it. Didn’t ask again.

You just murmured, “Yeah. That’s all, sir.”

Ghost didn’t lift his head. Couldn’t.

He didn’t watch you reach up and pull the ribbon from your hair. Didn’t let himself see the way it fluttered like a flag laid down. Didn’t let himself think about what it meant.

He needed to end this wretched pendulum swinging between restraint and ruin. He needed to silence the hunger, take the blade of reason to it and split it wide, gut it raw, swallow it down until even the memory of wanting you turned to rotten flesh on his tongue. He couldn’t keep circling the flame, not when it was you who burned. You were never meant to be his—no, you were the worst thing to ever touch his life with grace. The kind of mercy that made men weep. An unbearable blessing and a sweet, agonizing curse, wrapped in the sweetest fucking smile he could never taste.

This was purgatory.

And he’d been stationed here with you, a living reminder of the only thing he couldn’t kill, couldn’t outrun, couldn’t forget.

Butterflies, they said, were delicate things. Pretty. Fragile. But no one ever talked about how hard they were to catch once they’d taken flight.

And Ghost?

Ghost never chased after things meant to fly away.

Not anymore.

“In the corner of the universe, where butterflies go to die, there is no mourning, only the soft, haunting reminder that beauty, no matter how fleeting, was once here.”

Skin of Thunder Chapters

[2-dsimp]

Hey, @2-dsimp!

Idk if you're still doing request for Genshin, but if you are, can you please do Éclair + Devil cake for Albedo (I don't care if this dude is a synthetic human, he still needs some love-)

(Btw I was thinking of Villain!Albedo x Hero!Fem!Reader)

If you don't wanna do it if fine ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

～【Smutty imagines】🍒

→《Ft! FEM READER》

————————————————————————

[🔞] Case study #1 [🔞]—> ft! Villianous! Albedo! NSFW MDNI, Mindbreak, coercion, dubcon, slight bimbofication, praise, unhinged behavior, yandere tendencies, cockworship, deepthroat, male oral recieve! Slight humiliation

————————————————————————

『Albedo conditioning You to be his cumdump』

。Albedo was only trying to help you. Although you may have seen him as an arch nemesis he saw you to be his destiny. Why else would he bother holding back on destroying that worthless city of which he could’ve easily could’ve terminated without a moments notice?

。He was utterly enamored by you and tried his best to persuade that thick skull of yours to abandon those parasites and join his side. But no matter how much he tried to get you to see reason you’d only brush off his efforts. Despite how frustrating it was, that stubbornness of yours was his favorite quality about you.

。He tricked you into coming to his aid under the pretense of helping him turn over a new leaf only to trap you within his penthouse. Making you wear an electronic collar, all the more to help discipline and mold you into the woman he knew you’d eventually become in all due time. His sweet obedient housewife.

。It made him wonder how long it would take to break you.

→ “I’m so proud of how far you’ve progressed my love, haah you’re taking in my cock so well, so willingly…with such eagerness.”

。He’d groan, languidly humping his pelvis against your face. Pulling on your hair so you could properly cater to servicing his throbbing pretty cock adorned in prominent veins from balls to his pink tip. As he suffocates you with his heavy balls that were bench pressed against your nose. Hypnotizing you with his enticing musk of which he infused with certain pheromones to help you become more of a willing participant.

→ “Yes keep it up darling, don’t stop until you make me cum. Don’t You wanna please me? Mmh make your husband feel so wonderful just like the good girl that I know you are?”

。He rasped reaching his breaking point from the sloppy toppy you gave his mushroom pearly tip so reverently and his hips stuttered as he pulled you up by your hair and shoved your face to take his rod to the hilt. Allowing you to feel his abdomen and balls flexing against the cockdrunk expression present against your face.

→”Fuck, I love how you attempt to take every last drop. You’re such a pretty little wife for me when you’re obedient. Now smile for the camera love I’ve got to document how well you’ve grown to adapt to being mine.”

。Albedo praised with a small smile. He felt so complete spurting his hot sticky load into your open mouth. Filming your face in his baby batter while he was content in watching his outload drip from down to your chin. Watching you with satisfaction and pride that you belong to him and no one else. As you tried your best to swallow every bit of his manhood’s nectar.

。Snap!

。The sound of a camera shutter going off echoed throughout the room. As the villain captured your messy face all filled with his creamy load. To mark a corner stone in yalls happy relationship where you acted as his ever so faithful housewife.

→ “You’re so perfect when you’re under my control.”

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A/n: I’m back in business yall! ٩(˃̶͈̀௰˂̶͈́)و

[treatmelikeasmut]

Redemption of the Herald

MASTER LIST

PAIRING: Viktor x GN!Reader|| Isekai/Modern!AU

CW: Light season 2 spoilers

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've had this floating around in my brain for a while. I finally starting writing it at 5:30 this morning. Reincarnation is an AU I go back to a lot, so it was only a matter of time before I wrote one.

LISTEN ALONG [YouTube]

~*~*~

There was silence as the final credits rolled on the last episode of Arcane. You both just stared at the screen. A digestion of information. A silent understanding. A reckoning and acceptance of reality.

“It is strange,” Viktor started, his voice startling you out of your stupor. “Watching your descent to madness from the outside like this. A truly humbling experience.”

“You said it was…different in the other universe,” you recalled.

Viktor leaned back against the wall. You both were sat on your bed, watching Arcane in a long marathon. He had finally got up the courage, and you were there to help him process the information. You’d already done a deep dive into the lore of League of Legends, trying to scrape together anything you could.

“Not as much as I thought.” He shook his head. “There are a few things, of course. And there are parts of my life you did not witness, for narrative sake. This is not the descent of the Herald, afterall. Then, of course, there is the fact that you graced my life. And this Viktor, he was not so fortunate.”

You met his eyes, which struck you everytime, a jolt straight through you like lightning. It was so strange to have him here, in your space. For him to be real. His long hair tied back, falling out of the bun. But his features were just as sharp. His stature long and lithe. Those unforgetable liquid eyes that just didn’t exist outside of stories. Yet were watching you now as the result of some twisted isekai.

“Here,” continued Viktor, “I do not have such terminal illness. Only the deformity of my leg, which I have long been accustomed to. - I am much the man I was in the first act of the first season. Before…”

Viktor turned his face from you, shoulders rigid. He’d been carrying a lot of guilt, that much he’d told you.

He drew in a deep breath. “I’m still not exactly all I would’ve liked to have been. But I am better than the fate that befell me - us. The one that brought you here to begin with.”

Viktor turned back to you then, reaching out his hand. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek. It was like he had to keep checking you were real just as often as you did with him. He’d hardly been able to stop touching you since the first moment you met.

Jayce had rearended you with Viktor in the car. The look in his eyes when he first saw you - there were no words for it. Viktor told you later he had to get back in the car because he started tearing up. He was so sure it was just coincedence that you looked the way you did. Until you exchanged information with Jayce, for insurance reasons (even if neither of them had any idea about how insurance worked at the time). When he saw your name, he knew without a doubt.

You had make a joke about how they looked like their Arcane counterparts. Neither of them had heard of it, which initally surprised you. Now it made perfect sense why they hadn’t. You never would’ve thought getting rearended would lead to the biggest plot twist of your life.

“Why do you think you remember but I don’t?” you asked. There had been a few inklings, tingles of memories - voices, smells, colors, sometimes faces. But a solid one had not yet come back. “Is there a way to bring the memories back?”

Viktor frowned. “I am not sure. - Do you truly wish them back? They are not all good, especially toward the end. I was not the same man you fell in love with, and very different then the one that sits before you now.”

“You and I - we had a life together. There must be a reason I look the same, why we were brought back, why you found me.”

You wanted so desperately to remember. Viktor carried the memories like a burden. Like a scarlet letter. You found it so unfair that nothing had wriggled out yet. Your memories were just far away dreams, forgotten on the edge of sleep. You wanted to remember everything - the good, the bad, and the ugly. To know who you used to be.

“Perhaps it is so we may have another chance. No magic aside from the scarce remnants I carry. No hextech.” Viktor paused, staring out the window. “This world is different than ours was. There is no Zaun, no Piltover. No shimmer, though there are a great many substances just as harmful. I have learned the lesson that road leads to. At the very least, it brought me back to you. Of which, I am grateful.”

You moved closer, scooching until your shoulders touched. The warm sense of comfort and familiarity startled you every time. “Will you tell me about it?”

“I -” Viktor searched your face, then sighed and sagged against you. “Very well, take us back to the first.”

Doing as he asked, you scrolled back to the first episode of season one. He insisted on watching every bit, even playing the opening and sitting through all the credits for each episode. Maybe he was digesting it. It couldn’t be easy, seeing an alternative version of your life that was so scary close to your own.

“Now I only know these things from the little I could find in Vander’s mind,” Viktor started, “but this is all very much true. The girls lost their parents, and were taken in by him. He lead the rebellion against Piltover and many paid the price for it. I believe much of the foundation was the same. Again, I cannot speak for this part of it. Only my own role.”

You watched as Powder and Vi escaped with their brothers from Jayce’s decimated apartment. Viktor nodded. The first episode’s credits ran, then the second started. You watched the first meeting of Jayce and Viktor.

“And this?” you asked.

“Our Heimerdinger had the same arguments and reservations. However, he was less cautious. We had banter, a thought experiment about what hextech would mean. How we would do it. In the end, the conclusion was the same - that all of Jayce's things were to be confiscated and he jailed. I stole the book. Things went very much the same, until…”

“Until?”

“You were there with Mel that night. You helped us in our efforts to prove what hextech could do. In fact, I very much doubt that we could’ve done it without you in our world.”

You shrugged. “I doubt I did that much.”

“You, darling, were instrumental to our success. Don’t ever doubt.”

You continued to watch. There were some parts that Viktor frowned deeply at. Other parts he scoffed and rolled his eyes. He’d already expressed that your relationship had started during the timeskip. In those five years that were there and gone in a single episode. The happiest years of his life, he said, because of you. Then came the episode you had dreaded rewatching. Viktor paused and rewatched the scene where he collapsed three times. A hand going to his chest.

“I will never be able to unhear the sounds of your sobs, no matter how many universes we end up in,” he whispered, “I was hardly conscious but I could hear you, wailing as if you could see the future. As if you were grieving for every possible instance of our life together. Jayce tried to help, to calm you. But you were positively inconsolable. I don’t think you knew I could hear you. You put on a brave face when I finally regained full awareness, and never took it off until the end.”

Viktor’s bottom lip quivered. He swallowed, breath shaking. You gently took his hand. It seemed to pull him out of that far away place.

“We aren’t there anymore,” you reminded him softly. He squeezed your hand and cleared his throat.

“We worked,” Viktor continued, voice rough now. “There is so much in this time gap that you do not see. So many things that were not even a possibility here. I cannot tell you them all.”

“Can you give me an overview?”

“How can I tell you a lifetime's worth of memories?” Viktor chuckled, “We laughed, we argued, we fucked on the work table until the sun came up, which Jayce walked in on more than once. We screamed and cried and loved, and worked ourselves to the bone. In the end, it wasn't enough. The rocket still came, I still died, and you and Jayce put me in the hexcore. I still became the Machine Herald. I was the villain, at the end, but worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“The man you see here is tame. He thought about what he was doing, how he could change things. But I came back angry. I ripped through Piltover and Zaun like a wildfire. That colony that you see in Arcane, that is but a sample of the havoc I wrought. I thought I could not be opposed. And that, were I to be, I would consume them. Make them part of the evolution, whether they wanted it or not.” Shame was etched into Viktor’s face. He covered it with his hands. “I know now how foolish it was. How power hungry I became. A vengeful god, and you paid the price. It was you who gotten taken into the hexcore. Who broke your leg, spent gods know how long alone and scared. Jayce got sent elsewhere, suffered another kind of torture, and he saw this…thing that I’d become. You worked together to end me. But you were the one absorbed into whatever was left of me after. I suppose Jayce must've been too, though I don’t remember.”

“Do you think that’s why the three of us are here? We got absorbed then slingshotted somewhere?”

Viktor uncovered his face. “Perhaps.”

“But why here?”

Viktor leaned into you. “In the end, as we were swept away into the cosmos, all I could think of was the things we had not been able to have. The people we weren’t able to be. How happy I was that you were there and how I wanted to stay with you always. How much I wanted to redeem myself in your eyes. - So perhaps this was the answer to my anguish. My redemption. A different life, another chance. Jayce woke up the sole heir to a tool company empire. He had no recollection of any of this new life. I was his roommate in college, apparently. I’m not sure if I truly lived that life and, when the awakening happened, I forgot about it. Or if we took the lives of other people. I am glad to see you, at least, got to live a full life.”

Silence stretched between you as you digested this information. You chewed it over, like fat off a steak. So things really were that different where you’d come from. Perhaps it was better that Arcane was just a show to you. But would it always be? It was all so big, so may possibilities.

“How long do you think we’ll have? Will this happen again?” you rushed, the existentialism of it all washing over you. “When we die will we be sent to a new world, forced to live new lives -”

Viktor wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. His familiar scent calmed you immediately. It was so strange that your body reacted like you were already in love. Like Viktor was the safest person in the world who brought you the most comfort. You could see yourself falling in love with him in this life too, in fact, you already were.

Just a month ago, you had been a different person. With a different life. Now a man you’d thought only to be fictional was real. And he was yours, right down to his core. How strange a concept was that? What sort of fate had been designed for you?

“We will have a lifetime or more,” Viktor said, “I’m not sure how this will work. If we get this life together, then we have to find each other again in the next one. Or if this will be a repeating cycle. Where it is I who has to find you as penanace. I’m fine with anything. I’ll find you, no matter what it takes or where we go. - Would you mind?”

You sat up just enough to look at him. “Would I mind what?”

“Would you mind if I chased you?” Viktor leaned his forehead to yours, and your heart gave a little flip. “What is it that the fandom says? - Every universe, every timeline?”

“Something along those lines,” you chuckled, “I think I’d like that.”

~*~*~

[buckyalpine]

Please please please would you ever think of writing more to wait, what? I love it.

Maybe the group are upset they weren’t their for the wedding so they ask the reader and Bucky to have another one, renewing vows so they call all be there.

Plus the uncle and aunts playing with the baby. Babies first show of super grip.

More babies. How happy Bucky is when she is pregnant again. Maybe twins and they name them after the group; like have a girl so call her Samantha for Sam and a boy who is Nathaniel/Niklaus for nat.

Would love to see Tony as baby 2s godfather. Could totally see him “competing” against Steve. Look I got my Godkid this and that more than steve gave his. Not that it matters as tony fits for best uncle title so he gives everything to baby Stevie anyway :). Etc. Love your writing can’t wait to read your next fic. Anyway How are you? Hope you are well. How do you come up with stories?

YES YES One of my FAVOURITE AUs which I love to keep adding too. I've broken up this ask into parts here:

Wait, what? - 💔🥰 The secret you’ve been keeping from the team can only be hidden for so long (pregnant reader)

Wait, what? 2 -  🔥💔🥰 A little more back story + baby Barnes! (pregnant reader)

I do (again) Wait, what? 3 -  🥰 Everyone missed the first wedding, obviously you have to have another one

Wait, what? More Babies? -  🔥🥰 The family grows with a little new addition

Here is a little drabble with the aunts and uncles being complete menaces because they compete with each other. You shook your head looking at the growing pile of gadgets and toys collecting everywhere. There wasn't a single place where there wasn't a new present from either and aunt or an uncle, your kids spoilt beyond reason.

"Mama look!" Stevie ran into your room with a new shield in hand, proudly showing off the new technology it had been upgraded with from when he first got it. He whistled, grinning when the shield started to rumble before the plates shifted, expanding it to double the size. He had on a special type of watch fitted to his wrist and you couldn't even begin to comprehend what that would lead to.

"Baby, where do we keep all this?"

"In my room!" He scrambled off without looking back, only to have his presence replaced by the twins, each floating into the room with glowing red capes.

"What on earth are you to doing?" You knew better than to try and intervene with whatever it was they were doing, Samantha and Nathaniel giggling while sipping in circles from their latest gift from Aunty Wanda.

"Aunty Wanda charmed it for us!" They squealed, the tiny rocket booster running shoes they had been given from Tony boosting them to the ceiling.

"Get down from there!" You hissed, making your way to the living room to ask each God parent if they were trying to take years away from your life through stress.

"Did you see what I got for the tiny terminators" Tony grinned at Steve, hearing sound of laugher down the hall followed by your exasperated voice. He chuckled when he saw you disheveled form with each twin under your arm, clutching onto them like footballs to keep them from flying off.

"Best. God Father. EVER" Nathaniel grinned while Samantha nodded, trying to squirm from your hold.

"Steve jr got an upgrade too" Steve stated proudly, seeing his god son using his shield to surf down the staircase, causing you to drop one twin and catch your elder son before he face planted onto the floor.

"For F-" You caught yourself before finishing your sentence, both men snickering while you huffed, "I swear, wait till daddy is home" You placed your kids in a pile between their God fathers before going up to take a well deserved bath.

Bucky snorted at the sound of chaos that he heard as he made his way from the gym to your shared bedroom. He didn't want to set food into the living room when his demon spawn and Satan's love child god fathers were together, making his way straight to you instead.

"How are you mama" Bucky whispered softly, seeing the bathroom door left lightly ajar, the scent of lavender filling the room.

"Your children are spoiled Barnes" You peeked one eye open before closing it again, humming when you felt Bucky step into the tub, settling himself behind you.

"And who is spoiling mama?" He smirked, letting a sneaky hand trail down between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin on your neck, "Hm?"

A snap of his fingers was all that was needed to lock the doors and sound proof the walls. He'd already shot a text to Steve before coming to your room.

"You're both babysitting. Code XXX" (and Steve 1000% blushed like mad though Tony cackled and decided to set up a bet on if tonight would make another baby Barnes)

It was going to be a loooong night.

[natashaslesbian]

Another Mother | Part 3

Scarlett helps you out when you start to get sick, she hopes you’re getting closer until your dad tells you he’s needed back at work. All you truly want is your mother, not Scarlett

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings/Content: Sickness, Throwing up, Medication, One hint of non sexual nudity, One swear word

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You followed slowly behind your dad into the living room, finding Scarlett already settled on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. “Hey you two” Scarlett smiled, a little too friendly for your liking, despite your earlier bonding time. “Did you apologise?” The blonde asked Colin “yeah” your dad nodded. “Good, now let’s watch a film, what’s your pick y/n?” Scarlett said as she adjusted her position on the couch, hoping you would join her. She was slightly disappointed when you took a seat on the spare armchair beside the expensive looking couch, wiping at your suddenly stuffy nose “terminator 2” you said as you slumped down. “Oh one of my favs, nice pick” Scarlett said as Colin came and sat beside her. Your dad sighed as he got comfortable “guess I gotta get used to being outnumbered again” Colin smiled as he wrapped his arm around the blondes shoulders “looks like you girls are already ganging up on me” he joked. “We make a good team y/n” Scarlett smiled at you “we’re not a team” you coldly replied “just two people living under the same roof who happen to get on occasionally” you said with a croaky voice. You didn’t see it, but Scarlett smiled at your words. Even if it was only occasionally, she was happy to be getting on with you, it was a start.

Your eyes grew tired towards the end of the film, a small headache forming behind your eyes. The exhaustion due to your restless night soon lulled you into a comfortable doze. “I think someone’s ready for bed” Scarlett whispered when she saw your head slowly bobbing to the side. “Y/n, wakey wakey!” Your dad called, using that annoying voice which he thought was hilarious. Your brows furrowed as you shuffled slightly “Colin!” Scarlett groaned. “Sorry kiddo” he laughed “you tired? Why don’t you go take a nap before dinner?” He said. You sighed loudly as you sat up, rubbing at your sore eyes “no I’m good” you said. “You sure?” Colin asked worriedly, to which you nodded in response. “You do look a little pale y/n” Scarlett piped up. “God I’m fine! What do you care anyway?” You snapped as you stood from the chair, leaving heavy footsteps in the path of your exit. “Hey! What did I tell you about the attitude!” Your dad called after you. “Leave it honey, she doesn’t seem well” the blonde said, running her hand along Colin’s arm in what she hoped was a soothing manor. “She’s fine” he huffed.

You made it halfway up the stairs before a rough cough escaped your lungs, as if being home sick wasn’t enough, now you were getting actually sick. You finally made it to your bedroom, where you flopped down dramatically onto your bed. Being too tired to change, you rolled over into your stomach letting your heavy head hit the pillow. You slept through dinner, Colin left you to sleep when he came to check on you. You slept so deeply, it was morning the next time you opened your eyes. You whined as the morning sun hit your gaze, making your pounding headache ten times worse. You were slightly dazed, but still knew it was Monday, meaning you needed to get ready for school. You peeled back your duvet and began shivering despite the sweat running down your head. You somehow made it to the door quickly, ignoring the ache of your muscles in each step. When making your way to the bathroom, the haze behind your eyes caught up with you, sending you toppling down to your knees. The crash against the wall had your dad awake in seconds “y/n?” He said as he swung open his bedroom door.

You saw a hint of worry come over your dad as he ran towards you “are you alright kid?” He said as he began to help you up “god you’re boiling” he exclaimed, deciding it would be better to keep you sitting. An inquisitive blonde appeared in the doorway, also awoken by the noise “is everything alright?” She said. “You were right, I think she’s sick” Colin frowned as he held you in his arms. “M fine” you whined “gotta school go” you slurred. “No sweetie I don’t think you’re going to school today” your dad said “I…um…I’ll call them okay, and we’ll…we’ll get you feeling better in no time” he stuttered, slightly unsure of what to do “let’s get you back to bed” he said. “I think she needs a shower first” Scarlett said, still standing in the doorway. “What?” Colin said, looking up at her. The older woman came to rest the back of her hand on your forehead, you shuffled away when she came into contact with you, pulling a face of disgust. “She’s too warm, she needs a cold shower” the woman said. Colin’s face fell into shock “right…well uh” he mumbled. “I’ll do it” Scarlett said “if that’s okay with you” she asked as she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, thrilled when you didn’t shrug her off. Your dad smiled at the offer from his fiancé “you go call her school” she smiled back “I don’t know the number” Colin said in defeat. “I’ll find it later” Scarlett said as she rolled her eyes.

You felt a pair of arms scooping you underneath your arms, gently lifting you away from the floor “ok sweetie, come on let’s get you in the shower” Scarlett said as she took on all of your weight. Being too dizzy to notice, you allowed yourself to be helped into the bathroom and deposited into the toilet lid. The running water caught your attention and you furiously rubbed at your eyes trying to regain your vision. “Hey try not to do that okay, you’ll make them sore” Scarlett said as she reached for your hands. “Leave me lone” you said as you saw a flash of blonde hair “don wan you” you grumbled. Scarlett was getting used to your standoffish attitude, so she didn’t take your words to heart. “I know you don’t y/n but you need a shower and I don’t think you can do it yourself right now” she said as she checked the temperature of the water. Satisfied that it was cool enough, Scarlett began peeling away the shirt stuck to your skin “we’ll keep your underwear on okay but I need to take your shorts off too” she said soothingly. Despite your best ideas, you allowed the blonde to help you stand and step out of your shorts as they pooled at your ankles. “‘S cold” you groaned as you stepped underneath the water. “I know sweetheart but we gotta cool you down” Scarlett said as she helped you to sit in the tub.

You whined as more of your skin came into contact with the cold water, Scarlett gently shushed you as she helped you to settle against the tiles. You didn’t put up much of a fight once your body was supported by the tiles and Scarlett took the opportunity to search for your schools phone number. Once she found it, the actress poked her head out of the bathroom door and called for her fiancé. “I got the schools number” she said as Colin climbed the last few steps. “Thank you baby, is she okay?” he asked as he typed the number into his own phone. “She’s only just got in but it should cool her down a bit. I’m guessing Marie used to take care of this kinda stuff?” Scarlett questioned. Colin smiled at the mention of his late wife “yeah she did” he said, reliving all the times you would be napping with your mother when you had a cold. “Why don’t you go make her some breakfast, she needs to eat before we give her some medicine” Scarlett said as she held Colin’s hand lovingly “okay yeah” your dad sighed as he ran back down the staircase, still in his panicked state at your sudden sickness.

Scarlett returned to the side of the bath and leant over to gauge your temperature, she was delighted when you felt much cooler than before. “Okay let’s get you out sweetie” she said as she reached for a fluffy towel. “No tired” you mumbled through the droplets of the water “thought you said it was too cold?” Scarlett smirked as she helped you to stand up again. “Don wan your help if you jus gon make fun of me” you argued, your anger a stark juxtaposition to the grip you had on her arms. “Sorry baby” Scarlett said, the nickname sliding off her tongue so naturally. You grimaced in annoyance at her affection but allowed her to help you back to your bedroom nonetheless. “Sit tight okay, I’ll grab you some fresh clothes” the blonde said as she sat you on your bed “I feel sick” you groaned as you wrapped your arms around your bubbling stomach. Scarlett took notice of your movements and hurried across the room to place your bin underneath your chin. On cue, the small contents of your stomach came out, it was mostly acid considering you hadn’t eaten in almost 15 hours. “Alright sweetie, it’s okay, let it all out” Scarlett cooed as she ran her hands along your back. You pulled back when you were done, avoiding the bin as you moved your head forwards to rest on the blondes frame. She placed the metal can back on the floor and gently soothed the skin of your arms. “I…I need to get dressed” you stuttered as you slowly pushed Scarlett away, feeling guilty for relying on her so heavily. “Do you want some help” Scarlett asked. “No, I can do it” you said as you pushed yourself to your feet and turned your back to the older woman, ending the conversation.

Scarlett waited just outside your door while you pulled your clothes back onto your cooler body. Colin came rising back up the stairs with a tray of fever friendly food. “Hey, she’s just getting dressed” the blonde said as she leaned over the tray to give her fiancé a kiss. “Okay hunny, thanks for looking after her” Colin said “I made her soup and a few slices of toast” he sighed as he held out the tray, wishing you could get better quickly, he hated to see you like this. “That should settle her stomach a bit, she threw up” Scarlett frowned, also hating to see you like this. “Oh god okay, I’ll see if I can get the rest of the week off work, I’m due back tomorrow” Colin said. He placed the tray on the hallway table and pulled out his phone to call his boss when a small whimper came from your bedroom. “Scarlett?” You called out “yeah sweetheart” the blonde replied leaning gently against the door. “I think I need some help getting dressed” you muttered “okay I’m coming in” Scarlett said as she picked up the tray of food for you “I got her” she nodded to your father. Scarlett couldn’t help the pitying whine that escaped her when she came back into your room. You were half sitting on the bed and half sitting on the floor, you’d managed to dress your lower half but when trying to put a loose sports bra over your head, you failed tremendously. The older woman kept her eyes above your shoulders as she helped to pull the bra over your chest, when you were covered she grabbed the large shirt she had laid out and helped you to slip into it. “Thank you” you whispered, “don’t mention it sweetie.

You climbed back into bed as Scarlett carried over the food your dad had prepared “‘M not hungry” you whined as she set it down on your lap. “You need to eat y/n, you’ll feel better I promise. And after your done we’ll get some medicine in you then you can sleep okay” Scarlett said, unconsciously leaning forward to brush away a loose strand of your hair. You continued to moan in disagreement but soon you had finished the whole meal, you felt a little bitter though you were definitely not going to tell Scarlett she was right. Your dad stopped by as you were finishing up, arms full of medication as he wasn’t sure which ones you needed. You and Scarlett both chuckled as his frantic state “give it here” she blonde rolled her eyes and reached for the basket. “How are you feeling pumpkin?” Colin asked as he rested a hand on your forehead “sleepy” you whispered “we’ll get you tucked in soon I promise” he cooed. Scarlett found what medicine you needed and helped you to swallow it, despite your unwillingness. She stood back as her fiancé helped to soothe you to sleep “get some sleep” Colin said as he switched off your overhead light, leaving you to rest. “I can’t get the week off” your dad sighed as he closed you bedroom door “they’re behind on scripts for the sketches I gotta go in” he sighed. “She’ll understand baby” Scarlett said as held Colin’s hand tightly “and I’ll be here to look after her” she said. “I know it’s just, her mom used to watch her when she was sick, or on school holidays, practically all the time cause I was at work. I thought I would finally have a chance to be there for her” Colin frowned. “She knows that you love her CJ, and she knows that you’re always gonna be there for her, wherever you are” the blonde said as she brushed his cheeks in her hands. “Come on, I think we have time for our own breakfast while she sleeps” Scarlett smiled as she lead her fiancé back down to the living room.

The pair kept a close eye on you for the rest of the day, although you slept for most of it. Despite your sickness, Scarlett and Colin used this time to spend together, basking in each other’s comfort. You were awake now and enjoying a sit com in the silence of your room. The medicine was beginning to ware off and you felt the same bubbling in your stomach return from earlier. Colin shot up from his desk when he heard the retching coming from upstairs, he jumped into action as he ran up to you followed by Scarlett. The door swung open to reveal you with your head over the bin once again “oh pumpkin” your dad cooed. “Daddy” you whined as she came to your side. The blonde also appeared behind you, pulling your hair into a loose ponytail to avoid it getting in the way. Colin nodded in thanks to his partner as he gently stroked your back “it’s alright kiddo” he soothed. When you were done, you leaned back against your dad in defeat. He didn’t waste a second as he scooped you up into his arm, bringing you back to your bed. You saw the look in his eyes, the one that meant he had something to tell you “you have to go to work tomorrow don’t you?” You quietly asked. “Yeah baby, I’m so sorry there’s nothing I can do” Colin said as he reached around your shoulders to hold you against himself. “Scarlett will be here though, she can look after you okay?” He said. You drew your gaze to the blonde standing at the foot of your bed. You wished your dad could be with you, the comfort of your mother was absent and now so would your father’s, Scarlett was the last person you wanted around right now. “Okay” you sighed in defeat. You supposed it could’ve been worse, and Scarlett had helped you out today. Whether or not you wanted to admit it.

You soon fell back asleep in your fathers arms, feeling comforted by his presence. You didn’t join him and Scarlett for dinner, your stomach not being able to hold anything. Nightfall soon came and you resorted to having a movie marathon having slept so much already. You were feeling worse than ever as you couldn’t take any of the medication on an empty stomach, but you just couldn’t keep anything down, your tummy was constantly aching. It was around three am when you couldn’t hold back from stumbling over to the bin again. You had no concept of time and the world was going around in a blur. “Y/n?” You heard as you gently turned your head to the footsteps closing in. “Oh pumpkin” Colin sighed as he came to your side. “Dad” you whined as you leaned into him “what time is it?” You asked. “About 3” your father said. You glanced towards your window, seeing no light leaking through “am?” You said feeling guilty for waking him. “Go back to sleep daddy, you have work today” you said as you toyed with his necklace. “It’s okay baby don’t worry about me” Colin said as he too your face into his hands. “You’re gonna be tired” you frowned, your vision blurring slightly. “No, no sweetie it’s okay” your dad said as he helped you to stand.

“Come on let’s get you back to bed” Colin said as he supported your weight on the short walk back to your mattress. “I wanna go home” you said as water crept up behind your eyes. “You are home kiddo” your dad sighed as he began to tuck you back into bed. “I’ll never be home again, not without mom” you cried, thinking about your moms soft hands gently flowing through your long hair. “Pumpkin, you gotta let her go” Colin whispered. “What like you did” you snapped, sitting up with a sudden burst of energy. “You just let her go, moved on and forgot about her. You sold her house, drove in some new bimbo to replace her and just let her go!” You shouted, tears now streaming down your face. “Y/n” your dad sighed “it’s not heathy to keep holding on, she would want you to-“ he continued before you cut him off “don’t you dare say she’d want me to move on” you sobbed. Colin sat back in defeat as you flipped back down into bed, turning your back to him and pulling your stuffed bear close to your face. “Y/n” he whispered “just go dad. You’ve got work in a few hours. I’m not gonna be the reason you get fired for falling asleep at your desk” you muttered under your breath, shaking due to your small outburst and probably your once again rising temperature. “Scarlett’s here if you need anything” Colin said coldly as he headed off back to bed for a few extra hours. “Like fuck” you cursed.

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A/N: Series Masterlist here<3

- Astara Bell

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[Taglist]

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @nevaeh-daughterofvalcarol / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904 / @strange-night-owl / @kkreader78o / @hatergirl-69 / @asv-xx

[a-d-nox]

tarot hypothesis: major arcana and squid game player numbers

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

enjoy my work? help me continue creating by tipping on ko-fi or paypal. your support keeps the magic alive!

067 (0+6+7 = 13 -> death)

has a very transformative experience while playing the games especially when playing marbles. unfortunate for her, she has an unforgettable death moment where she's dying from her internal wounds only for 218 to "unexpectedly" kill her before she could succumb to the wound. like the mourners in the card, 456 is so devastated by her death that it changes his outlook on the final game.

218 (2+1+8 = 11 -> justice)

is the first person to mention the voting process to leave the game on the show. also kindly let ali borrow money and his phone... despite the final rounds, he began the games with a level of fairness kept in mind.

101 (1+0+1 = 2 -> high priestess)

perfect definition of reversed high priestess energy, he shows time and time again that his is disconnected from his own intuition - he doesn't know who to trust outside or even inside the games. he also relies too heavily on others when it comes down to it...

456 (4+5+6 = 15 -> devil)

gi-hun is like the terminator he just keeps coming back for more - but seriously homeslice literally comes back to the worst place he has ever been and where he has faced his own addiction with games... also he tends to make the same mistakes over and over like trusting people he thinks he knows...

333 (3+3+3 = 9 -> hermit)

myung-gi is a cryptocurrency influencer... its virgo male coded... but also i would like to predict him dying in darkness or being alone in some fashion during the final season's games. if not that then, i believe 222 is going to leave him in the dust.

388 (3+8+8 = 19 -> sun)

tell me dae-ho doesn't have hella youngful energy? also of naivety??? the sun is explorer so either he is a VIP or he could escape (by mere luck)... OR, which i think is most likely, he will end up being somewhere he shouldn't be and be killed for it.

246 (2+4+6 = 12 -> hanged man)

martyr coded... we just knew he was gonna die... and it's a horribly sad story because his sick daughter is all alone now...

120 (1+2+0 = 3 -> empress)

GET IT GET IT GET IT!!! i am sorry WHAT that is so on the nose. a trans woman as the empress is crazy spot on. i love it!! i saw that and was like *GASP*!!! also *gasp* because its park sung-hoon

007 (0+0+7 = 7 -> chariot)

oof more reversal energy... that man hesitated so hard when it came to getting his mother in my opinion and he hesitated when voting too... not to mention the lack of impulse control that he has...

149 (1+4+9 = 14 -> temperance)

i have seen a lot of people saying that she is a VIP and i disagree especially if this matrix numerology is still spot in s3. she is definitely a "friend" and not a foe.

390 (3+9+0 = 12 -> hanged man)

another martyr coded person. he was set up so the audience would love him and feel like he was a good person only for him to get swept away by someone who he just knew too much about.

222 (2+2+2 = 6 -> lovers)

bro please hear me out... front man's wife died carrying their baby - what if his empathy and projection of his history on to her is what ends up saving her life?? he did make a few comments (no i don't think he just has human decency lol) about taking it easy and to be careful because she is pregnant...

044 (0+4+4 = 8 -> strength)

when i was watching the show i was like i don't see it - i get moon (18) energy vibes but not strength (8) then she had her mini meltdown and i was like there it is... there is the vulnerability under that mask of "faith" in fate.

125 (1+2+5 = 8 -> strength)

then on the other hand... this is an extremely vulnerable character with zero back bone seriously reversed energy...

230 (2+3+0 = 5 -> heirophant)

thanos - tell me that man's ritual was not popping a pill and getting out there in the game.

001 (0+0+1 = 1 -> magician)

OBVIOUSLY no one can trust anyone what equals 1. its a duh moment (even in the 8 show - which i may do next if this does well) - the magician is a creator when upright and a manipulator when reversed...

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[lumi-nescentt]

And When I Break It's In A Million Pieces

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Warnings: kinda angsty, reader overworking herself, arguing and someone fainting

Words: 3.8k

Summary: Oscar can understand how important exams are to his girlfriend but he can't stand to see her overworking herself and this close to breaking down without trying to comfort her.

A/N: it was supposed to be a cute oscar one shot but I guess midterms kicked my ass so I had to make Oscar do what I would have loved someone to do for me.

Now that I'm done writing this I'll start on the requests :)

Oscar had been away on the last triple header of the season and as much as he loved racing and how good the car felt lately, he missed his girlfriend and couldn't wait to see her again.

She usually came with him as often as she could, but she had been drowning in homework lately so she had chosen to stay home and work a little extra to make sure she stayed up to date. Oscar didn’t mind, or at least he tried not to show it because he knew how bad she already felt for missing some of his best results in F1. 

The Australian knew how hard the girl was on herself and how she tended to forget to take care of herself when she got engrossed in her studies so he thought coming back as early as possible from the British Grand Prix was the best thing he could do. 

Flying from London to Melbourne felt like one of the longest trips Oscar ever had to endure and it was only worse because he was all alone. Usually he either had Lando, Logan or his girlfriend to entertain him during layovers and on the flight itself, but now as he sat on the first plane taking him from London to Qatar, Oscar felt bored to death.

He had chosen the earliest flight possible on Monday and that had been one that took off at 3pm so he wasn’t even tired enough to sleep. He had already watched a movie while waiting in front of the gate so he was honestly starting to run out of ideas on how to entertain himself. 

He considered paying for wifi access to try and chat with his girlfriend for a second but then realised that he had decided to plan his comeback in secret so she had no idea he was coming back. In the end, Oscar still paid for it just so he could play 8 ball with Logan and joke around with Lando. 

His two friends entertained him for a few hours, but when he landed in Qatar, they both had stuff to do so he was left all alone again. He had nothing to do during the layover in Dubai, so walking around the entire terminal at the slowest pace possible seemed like a good enough idea for the 2 hours he had to wait before boarding again. 

To say the 13 hours flight to Melbourne had been long was an understatement. It had only been made worse since he couldn’t sleep, so Oscar had watched the entirety of the Lord of the Rings trilogy and still had found time to be bored once he was done. By the time he finally arrived in front of the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, it was almost 1am and he hadn’t slept in 30 hours now. 

All he wanted to do was crash on his bed and cuddle against her but when he opened the door as quietly as he could, the first thing he saw was his girlfriend sitting on a barstool, hunched over her laptop on the counter. She had her headphones on and the volume was so loud Oscar could hear the song playing very clearly from where he was standing in the doorway.

After taking off his shoes and dropping his suitcase in a corner, he slowly made his way over, trying his best not to startle the girl. She was so engrossed in whatever she was reading that even with Oscar standing right next to her, her focus was still on her computer. She only flinched and snapped back to reality when Oscar delicately removed her headphones and put them next to her now empty coffee cup.

-“ Oscar ? What– How ? You were supposed to stay in Europe until the break.” she stuttered, too tired to understand how her boyfriend was standing in front of her

-“ Surprise !” Oscar smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “ I missed you too much to wait an entire month so I decided to come spend the week here.” 

-“ I don't know what to say, wow.” 

-“ Oh God, was it a bad idea ? I don’t want to intrude if you had plans, baby. I can ask my parents if I can stay at theirs instead if you want me out of your hair while you study.” 

-“ No no, it’s a good surprise, I just didn’t expect it, that’s all. It’s our flat so of course I want you to stay with me.” she quickly clarified, burying her head in the crook of his neck and tightening her arms around him

-“ Ok good, I got scared I was bothering you for a second.” he answered, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head

-“ Don’t say that Osc, you could never bother me. I’m always happy to see your pretty face in real life.” 

-“ So you think I’m pretty ?” the Australian asked with a proud grin

-“ Of course I do, pretty boy. Now as much as I’d love to keep this lovely flirting going, you must be exhausted so why don’t you get ready for bed and I’ll join you in a bit ?” 

-“ That sounds great, I’ll go shower and then we can cuddle because I can definitely feel the drop of temperature between here and the UK.” 

-“ It’s not even that cold but I won’t say no to that.” she smiled before turning back to her homework.

Oscar didn’t really know how long he stayed under the warm spray of the shower but judging by the amount of steam that was now filling the bathroom, he assumed he stayed for a little while. Since he took his time, he fully expected to find his girlfriend dozing off under the covers but when he reached the bedroom, the bed was still untouched. 

Gathering the remaining energy he had, Oscar dragged himself to the kitchen where she was still in the position he left her in. Her headphones were back on at a lower volume and she was now frowning and holding her head between her hands, seemingly trying to make sense of what she was reading. 

-“ Are you coming to bed soon ?” Oscar asked seeing the time on her laptop 

-“ Yeah, of course. Just give me a minute, I’ll meet you there.” she answered without looking at him

-“ Baby, it’s almost 3am. You need to sleep as much as I do.” 

-“ I know, I’m coming. Don’t wait up, you must be knackered.” she tried, squeezing the hand he had put on her shoulder to reassure him

-“ I want to sleep next to you. I’ll wait for you to finish what you’re doing. How long is this going to take you ?” 

-“ I don’t know, you shouldn’t stay awake for me. I promise I’ll cuddle you as soon as I’m in bed, you won’t even realise I’m not here at first.” 

-“ That’s not true, I always notice so will you come ? Please ?” 

-“ You’re lucky you’re cute and that I love you because I really need to finish this paper.” she finally caved in with a sigh, closing her laptop to face her boyfriend who was sleepily smiling at her

-“ I love you too, now come. I can tell you’re exhausted too.” 

Oscar linked their hands together and walked towards their bedroom, handing her one of his shirts as he stripped down to his boxer before hurriedly getting under the covers. At the sight of her cold boyfriend all cosy under the blankets, the girl couldn’t help but chuckle before she joined him and let him wrap his arms around her, resting her head against his chest and falling asleep to the comforting sound of his steady heartbeat. 

When Oscar woke up at 7am a few hours later, he brought his arm closer to the rest of his body, hoping to steal some of his girlfriend’s body warmth but his arm closed on nothing. With his eyes still closed, he patted her side of the bed, simply thinking she had rolled away from him but all he touched were the empty bed sheets. He would have assumed she had just gone to the bathroom if it wasn’t from how cold her side was. 

As hard as he wanted to tell her to come back to bed, Oscar wasn’t fully awake and he didn’t really think there was something he could do so he let himself fall back asleep for a few hours. When he opened his eyes again, finally feeling rested enough to figure out where she had gone, he was still alone in their empty bed. 

He made his way to the living room, secretly hoping she’d be all curled up on the sofa and had only moved there because he was snoring too loud but it was just as empty as their bed. Not liking where he thought this was going, Oscar went to the kitchen where his girlfriend was exactly in the same position he had found her hours earlier. 

Without saying a word, Oscar wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled his face in her neck like he knew she liked. When the only acknowledgement he got was a low hum without even a smile or a look towards him, he decided to try something else. He slowly turned his head and started kissing her neck tenderly, which always got her attention usually because she was never one to pass on getting some physical affection from him. He was so sure it was going to work that when she finally breathed in before talking, Oscar couldn’t stop the smile creeping on his face.

-“ Not now baby, please.” she brushed him off softly, without even looking at him

-“ Oh, okay. Sorry.” Oscar muttered, feeling his face flush from a wave of embarrassment he couldn’t stop

He quickly escaped to the opposite corner of the kitchen, getting busy with making breakfast to forget about the uneasy feeling coursing through his veins. It took him 15 minutes of meddling around before everything was ready and before he was ready to try to get her attention again.

This time, Oscar planted himself next to his girlfriend and put a coffee cup and a full plate with eggs and toast right next to her laptop before poking her shoulder with his finger to get her full attention.

-“ Hello there, I made you breakfast.” he half smiled

-“ Hi baby, that’s really sweet of you. Thank you.” she returned the smile, cupping his face with her hands before planting a soft kiss on his lips and turning back towards her homework

-“ I was wondering if you wanted to have breakfast together in the living room, maybe ?”

-“ I’m sorry Osc. I really need to study but don’t let me stop you, I know you love to eat there.” 

-“ Yeah, sure.” he started out loud before mumbling to himself as he exited the room “I don’t know what I was expecting.”

After his very lonely breakfast in front of a TV show he didn’t even want to watch, Oscar popped his head into the kitchen to see if she was done working. When he saw that she was still very focused on what she was doing, he decided to do something to occupy himself until she was finally free. He got dressed and yelled that he was going for a run before finally going outside. 

When he came back a little less than an hour later, Oscar was determined to spend some time with her so he hurriedly went to the bathroom to shower before eventually stealing her away from her homework. 

Once he was finally done, it was time for lunch and he was feeling like ordering so, while still looking at his phone, he went towards the kitchen and called her.

-“ I’m gonna order food, what do you feel like eating ?”

He waited a little bit for an answer but nothing came back so he walked a little closer and tried again.

-“ Baby ? Are you not hungry ?” 

Getting worried from the clear silence he was met with, Oscar walked in the kitchen but, to his surprise, he couldn’t see her.

-“ y/n ? If this is a joke, it’s not that funny. Where are you ?” he asked, feeling his heart beat a little faster

He knew she hadn’t gone out because both her keys and her car were still there so he went around the counter to go look into the laundry room when his eyes fell on something on the floor. Seeing his girlfriend laying down on the floor made his blood rush fast in his veins and he immediately kneeled down next to her and wrapped her hand in his.

-“ y/n, baby can you hear me ?” he tried again “ I’m going to put your feet on my lap, okay ? I’m not letting go of your hand, if you hear me just squeeze it.” Oscar explained, praying that he’d feel her grip tighten around his fingers

He felt the faintest squeeze but he wasn’t sure if he had imagined it or not so he tried again.

-“ Can you squeeze my hand again, please ?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper from how scared he was until he felt a clear squeeze “ Atta girl, you’re doing great.” 

Oscar felt his breathing slowly go back to normal as his girlfriend slowly gained back consciousness. He was still a bit shaken up but seeing her eyes fluttering open and feeling the constant squeezes of her hand on his was reassuring him. He waited a little more before asking her questions, not wanting to overwhelm her.

-“ Do you remember what happened ?” 

-“ I don’t know, I was just standing up to get another coffee and then I started feeling dizzy so I tried to call you but I don’t know if anything came out.” 

-“ Ok well at least you remember, you scared me to death there sweetheart.” 

-“ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” she apologised, mortified that he had seen her like this

-“ Hey, none of that. Don’t apologise, I’m glad I came back in time to find you. I would’ve hated for you to be all alone here when you fainted.” he reassured her, bringing her closer to him

-“ What do you mean came back ? When did you go out ?” 

-“ I told you I was going for a run but I guess you were so focused on what you were doing you didn’t hear me. Next time I’ll make sure that you hear me.” 

-“ It’s fine, you don’t have to.” 

-“ I know but I want to. Now let’s get you something to eat, you didn’t even eat breakfast so you must be starving.” he stated, pointing at the plate he had made her a few hours earlier, still untouched on the counter

-“ I’m not really hungry actually.” she whispered, looking at her feet

- “ You have to eat something baby. I’ll just order something from your favourite restaurant and you can just eat however much you can, does that sound good ?”

-“ Yeah sure, thank you Osc.”

Oscar didn’t answer and instead just placed a kiss on the side of her head before standing up and picking his phone that he had left on the counter to get the food. While they waited for it to arrive, Oscar sent her to shower so she could relax a little before eating. Before leaving her be, he convinced her to let the door slightly open so she could yell if she felt dizzy again so he could also relax.

He always stayed within earshots of the bathroom as he got busy around the flat until the delivery guy arrived. Oscar wanted it to be quick but the guy recognised him and wanted to take a picture with him. Oscar wouldn’t have minded the picture if the guy also didn’t seem to want to become his friend and didn’t talk for what felt like ages. Oscar didn’t know how to make him stop without sounding rude so he just waited until he was finally done before hurrying back to his girlfriend. 

He expected her to either still be in the shower or to be waiting for him in the living room, resting like they had talked about after she fainted but she was the most stubborn person Oscar knew. That’s why he wasn’t exactly surprised when he found her back to her studying spot with her headphones only wearing one of his mclaren hoodies. 

-“ I thought we said no more studying for today ?” Oscar scolded her gently

-“ I know but I can’t just stop like that. I need to finish this part and then I can rest for a few hours.”

-“ Baby you fainted, that means your body is exhausted and you shouldn’t put yourself through this.” 

-“ I don’t have a choice, Oscar. The exam is coming up and I need to finish this paper too. I can’t just decide to take the day off because my stupid body decided to betray me.” she spat in one breath, feeling her heartbeat quicken just thinking of the ton of stuff she still had to do 

-“ Alright, just breathe please. You can definitely afford to rest for today. I know you and I know you’re capable of doing what you have left before the due date. Just come lie down with me for a bit while we eat.” 

-“ You don’t know that for sure. I can’t afford to take such a risk.” 

-“ Baby, please.” he pleaded, feeling how she was getting more worked up by the second

-“ I said no, Oscar !” she said through gritted teeth, trying not to raise her voice 

-“ Why can’t you just slow down for a second ? What’s the worst that can happen if you let go a little.”

-“ Slow down ? That’s rich coming from you mister always running around the entire globe to drive at 300kph.” she cringed at how high pitched her voice was getting

-“ You know that’s not what I meant, y/n.” 

-“ Then what did you mean because I clearly don’t get why you’re getting in my way here.” 

-“ I only meant that you’re going to tire yourself out over some homework and that it can’t be healthy.”

-“  I’m sorry ? Some homework ?!” she scoffed loudly “ This is the last class I need to have my diploma, if I fail it, I can say goodbye to my dream job. Don’t belittle what I do because you don’t understand it.” 

-“ That’s not how I meant it, y/n. I’m just worried about you.”

-“ I didn’t ask you to be, in fact I didn’t even ask you to be here. You were supposed to be away doing your stupid job while I was here studying on my own but no you just had to come back and tempt me with ideas of relaxing and hanging out with you when you know I can’t. I can’t just decide to go away and take a break because I miss my partner. Some of us have real jobs and they can’t run away whenever they want to, Oscar.”  she finally lost it, her eyes filling with tears as she realised what she had said

-“ Wow, hum alright. I think I’m just going to go outside for a bit.” Oscar muttered, grabbing his car keys and turning around as quickly as he could

As soon as she heard the door close, y/n broke down crying in the middle of the room. She hadn’t meant to snap at him, she knew he just cared about her and most of all, she didn’t think anything she said was true.

She knew how hard Oscar had worked to get to where he was now and she was so proud of how far he had come. She loved that he was able to do something he loved as his job and how he always made time in his busy schedule to either fly her to where he was staying or fly back home to see her. 

In all honesty, she had been missing him so much lately and all she wanted to was take a break and seek comfort in his arms but she couldn’t help the anxiety and the guilt that kicked in whenever she stopped studying even for a second. She had been staying up late and waking up at the crack of dawn for a week now, studying as much as she could before she had to attend classes. She barely had time to eat and she couldn’t remember the last time she had a decent meal. 

The mere thought of having hurt Oscar was filling her with guilt and she wished there was something she could do to take it back. She was so tired of feeling like this and right now it felt like she had pushed away the only person she wanted to comfort her. 

When Oscar opened the door half an hour later, he didn’t expect his girlfriend to come running to the door and then stop in her tracks the moment her eyes met his. She tried to open her mouth but tears started falling again and she was struggling to take a full breath. The sight tore Oscar’s hurt and he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her head against his chest. 

-“ It’s okay, baby. Just let go, I’m here.” he whispered, tracing circles on her back

-“ I’m sorry, Oscar. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean what I said. I–”

-“ I know, it’s okay. It’s already forgotten.”  

-“ It’s not okay. You didn’t deserve to hear that.” she sniffled, looking at him in the eyes “ I love what you do and I’m really happy you’re here. I’m sorry if I made you feel like it wasn’t the case. It’s no excuse but I’m frankly exhausted and you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

-“ Thank you for apologising. It’s forgiven and I promise you I’m not mad or anything.”

-“ You’re sure ?” 

-“ Yes, I wasn’t mad earlier. I was a bit hurt and I knew you needed time to calm down before we could have a discussion so I just went to the store to buy brownies and ice cream.” 

-“ That’s so sweet, Oscar, stop.” she said, feeling her voice shake slightly

-“ I was thinking we could take a proper break and eat in front of a movie. Then if you still want to work, I could help you study and after that we could take a bath ? How does that sound ?” 

-“ I love you so much.”

-“ Is that a yes ?” Oscar teased, smiling as he heard her laugh

-“ Yes it is.” she said, as he grabbed her hand and guided her towards the living room where the food was still waiting for them

-“ y/n ?” 

-“ yes ?” 

-“ I love you too.” 

-“ I know, now come here.” she smiled again, wrapping her arms behind his neck before pulling him down to kiss him properly 

Oscar hadn’t been sure of it at first but coming back home was the best choice he ever made for the both of them. They missed each other too much to wait a whole month to be together when they needed the other’s presence that badly.

[missmonsters2]

Mirror, Mirror | Six: Epilogue

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART FIVE

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You never really thought about Wanda other than the fact that she's your best friend. Nothing more, nothing less. It just wasn't in the realm of possibilites, so you never let yourself develop feelings. At least until someone points out that you have a very specific type when it comes to dating, so maybe it is all subconscious? Reader's POV

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: Mini Series is completed! Thank you so much for tagging along with me <3 Explicit version available in a week.

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~3.1k

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You rarely think about sentences that could change your life.

There are too many instances that could change your life; therefore, it would be moot to think about.

You have a terminal illness. 

You've won 69 million dollars.

Someone you love has horrifically died—no, there were no remains.

It's all too overwhelming to think about; therefore, you don't. Yet, somehow, if you ever did think about life-changing sentences, you didn't think it could ever be, "Hey, have you noticed how you seem to exclusively date girls who look like Wanda?"

And it was like the ground crumbled underneath you. It was such a sickening realization—not that Wanda was in any way sickening—it was the fact that you might just be subconsciously a pervert. 

The more you thought about the words, the more horrifying it became. Every one-night stand, every situationship, every girlfriend—god, they all looked like Wanda. 

You're too scared to think about it deeper in fear of what it would reveal subconsciously every time you kissed or fucked a girl. Were you thinking of Wanda? God, you just couldn't think about it.

This was all Bucky's fault. You wished you had never gone out onto that balcony that night. 

3 months prior to that night at the bar with Wanda & Steve

The cool air felt better, and the breeze settled on the back of your neck. There was definitely too much wine going around, and you only managed to escape as Tony brought out the hard liquor. 

The crowd dispersed after several shots you didn't partake in. You stared into the distance, thinking idly how Tony had way too much money. Old money was ridiculous. Why does someone need a garden fountain as big as a pool?

Movement caught the corner of your eye, and you saw Wanda and Vision walking through the dimly lit garden. You smiled fondly at your best friend as she laughed at whatever charming thing Vision had managed to say. 

Vision was...just okay, in your opinion. You thought he was too nonchalant about Wanda, and that was why they were so on and off rather than consistently being together. Wanda deserved someone who loved her fiercely, and you couldn't imagine Vision always putting Wanda first. 

You watched with slight melancholy when Wanda linked her arms through his as they sat on the ledge of the garden fountain. You wished you had also brought someone along for this party. 

"Hey, thought I saw you sneak out here."

You turned around and saw Bucky holding a glass of beer. You smirked at him with mirth. "You know what I must do when Tony starts bringing out the grey goose."

Bucky shuddered, clearly having been roped into a few shots. He came and stood next to you, catching the scene you were staring at. "Guess they're back on then?"

You shrugged. "Guess so. We'll see how long it lasts. I'm betting 3 months."

"Be realistic. It'll be 2 and a half months," Bucky snorted. 

"Ye of little faith," you teased and then sighed. "I wish I also brought someone along. I should've brought that girl I met at my photoshoot."

"The brunette with green eyes?" Bucky asked, and you nod. "You know what I've noticed?"

"Hm?" you hummed in response to Bucky's casual tone. 

"You seem to have a very specific type when it comes to dating," Bucky mused. "They're always brunette—save those two girls from university—and they always have green eyes." 

You furrow your brows in serious thought. "I suppose so."

"Yeah," Bucky nodded, his tone still casual. "They always remind me of Wanda, especially from the back. I always have to make sure I'm careful not to mix up your date with Wanda." 

Bucky ended it with a chuckle, stating he was getting cold before he left without another world, leaving you alone outside.

The connect dots snapped into place almost instantly, horrifying you as you continued to stare at Wanda from above. 

Oh, fuck. 

Maybe it was a good thing you didn't bring anyone tonight. You're not sure how you'd be able to take someone home into your bed with the daunting realization you go after girls who look like your best friend...because you actually want your best friend. 

The three months since that discovery had nearly driven you to insanity. Since you refused to talk to anyone about it, most of your thought process was, " Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no."

But in the end, you resolved that it couldn't happen. Wanda would never reciprocate your feelings in a million years, especially since she had Vision. Wanda occasionally even talked about the possibility of marrying him down the road. 

It wasn't happening. It was never going to happen. 

Wanda was more important to you than anyone in the whole entire world. You would never allow anything to risk the friendship—even your feelings. 

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You felt like a sick sexual deviant. 

Despite your resolve to bury your feelings and continue on as normal, it was getting increasingly weird to continue to see girls who looked like Wanda. Yet, you couldn't stop. It wasn't doing it for you otherwise. 

But now, every time you kissed a girl, all you could see was Wanda in her. Sex was beginning to become a guilty pleasure for all the wrong reasons. 

When you met Raye, it felt like another sinful thing to lust after, knowing how much she physically reminded you of Wanda. But you could see a big personality difference in the short time you spent chatting with Raye. 

Wanda was the type you spoiled, indulging in her strange, wacky ideas. She could be very emotional, swinging from one side of the spectrum to another. She had such a big heart, willing to love, but also held grudges and was wicked if crossed. Wanda was a brat in all the loving ways you could mean. 

Raye could be best described as emotionally consistent. On the surface, she portrayed a wicked sense of humor and was fun to be around, but she was much more guarded than Wanda. She was very independent, not liking anything that might even intrude on her freedom. Raye kept her true feelings close to herself and seemed to be teasing you to come find out. 

It was different. You didn't mind, maybe liking it even (purely in the sense it was the opposite of Wanda, and you couldn't afford to keep lusting after your best friend in all possible ways).

Even so, your mind was distracted on the first date.

"Have you ever done a boudoir photoshoot?" Raye asks, her tone low and seductive.

"Can't say that I have," you smile, trying to remind yourself to be present during the date. It's been long since you've properly wined and dined someone, and Wanda kept entering your thoughts. 

"Well, there's a first for everything and you might even have a willing model," Raye bit her bottom lip suggestively, her index finger stroking the back of your hand. 

And while the southern twang does stir something in you, and you feel your stomach tingling, you're very aware that it's because Raye physically reminds you of Wanda. So, your mind traitorously imagines Wanda biting her lip and saying seductive things to you. 

"THEY WOULD NEVER—"

You whip your head around, swearing you heard Wanda. When there was no sign of her, you furrowed your brows in confusion, turning back to Raye.

Was this a sign of insanity?

You resolve right then and there to focus on the lovely brunette before you and enjoy the date. It was easy enough if you relaxed and earnestly asked Raye questions about herself. 

It was easy enough to hold Raye's hand and swing it back and forth if you just thought about how warm they were. 

It was enough to giggle when Raye leaned in closer to whisper something silly or naughty in your ear if you just thought about how her breath felt on the shell of your ear.

Suddenly, the car next to you went off, the alarm beeping loudly enough to make you and Raye jump in surprise. You turned around and noticed the couple behind you were gone. You thought they looked slightly familiar, but it was too difficult to determine when they were so far away in the dark under passing streetlights. 

Ultimately, you walk Raye up her steps, unsure what you want your next move to be. Everything feels strange since the revelation. You feel guilty for your lust, but specifically what causes it. 

But when Raye pulled you in for a hot, searing kiss, you decided to just go with the flow...which also ended up being nothing as she got a call from her sister while clothes were discarded. 

The call was only bordering on 40 seconds, but you decided your momentum was lost, and you needed that momentum to have sex with someone else while you tried (unsuccessfully) to not think about Wanda. 

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Fuck. Darcy.

Those were the only words that could come to your mind after Wanda texted her vague answer about whether or not she was returning home tonight. 

You sighed as you scrolled through the videos and photos, trying to get a headstart on putting together the video for Tony and Pepper. As you began opening up files, many were corrupted by the inability to open or glitchy images. 

With another sigh, your chair scraped against the floor as you shifted back, pulling out your phone and shooting a quick text to the videographer asking if you could meet up tomorrow to get the SD card for the originals. You got a prompt reply with a thumbs-up emoji with a time and place. 

You thought you might've just heard something shuffle in your room, but you forget about it when it's quiet again.

In the end, you spent another 45 minutes scrolling through some other photos that weren't corrupted, catching Wanda in the background and staring with a lingering thought about how absolutely pretty she was.

A part of you was in disbelief that Wanda was interested in women. You had so many questions that still lingered, but you didn't want to push Wanda or make it seem like you were interrogating her, and she needed to prove it.  

Still, you wondered what exactly made Wanda come to terms with the fact that she liked women.

Specifically, why couldn't you be the reason she was interested in women? You shoved those forbidden feelings down, beating them back into its box to put away. 

It didn't matter. 

It shouldn't matter.

You're with Raye, and Wanda may be with Darcy. Or some other girl, or maybe even with a guy again.

It's just not going to be you. 

And that's okay, you tell yourself. You can love someone without having to pursue anything. You just want to be there for Wanda. 

Of course, all of this changed the moment you watched a slanted confession video from an unaware Wanda while your roommate was out for lunch with a client.

Shock is the only thing that registers upon the video finishing. Were you hallucinating again? Was this like the first date with Raye where you kept thinking you could hear or see glimpses of Wanda?

But you played the video over and over, blinking every time it was finished.

Then a burst of strange laughter bubbled from your mouth, and then horror dawned on you that, 'oh, fuck. She actually feels the same way.'

It was unclear whether or not Wanda was trying to let her feelings be known or if she was also facing the same issue as you, where she was suppressing them. Either way, Wanda would unlikely be brave enough to say anything soon. 

You spent the week humming and hawing about what pursuing a relationship with your best friend would mean. What would the consequences be if things didn't work out? What would the consequences be if you declined to pursue anything more despite if Wanda confessed? What would the consequences be to watch Wanda move on and love someone else?

Your stomach dropped. 

You needed to break up with Raye. 

Your stomach dropped. 

You wait 3 more days before confronting Wanda since she's clearly a chicken.

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"You knew you had feelings for me for at least 3 months?" Wanda screeches. "And you said nothing?!"

"Okay, relax, you banshee," you wince at the sound. "How is that the only thing you hung onto out of everything I just told you?"

"But...but!" Wanda narrows her eyes on you. "It was getting serious with Raye!"

"Serious?" you raise your brow at Wanda. "What gave you the idea it was getting serious? We were dating but I saw her maybe a few days out of a month with how much she flies out for work."

"So, it wasn't getting serious at all?" Wanda frowns.

"Well," you purse your lips. "Maybe for Raye. She was considering transferring to another department so she wouldn't have to fly out anymore."

Wanda's mouth hangs open, her face pale with the worst thoughts of what might've been if they never confessed their feelings.

"Which," you cut in like you're able to read her mind, "obviously, I told her to not do as I wanted to end things with her."

"How did she take it?" Wanda asks curiously.

You look uncomfortable as you shift in bed, but Wanda waits patiently. "I think she just emotionally shut down. There were no tears, no screaming, or any accusations about why I was ending things. She just looked impassive as she accepted it and asked me to leave."

"Oh," Wanda bit her bottom lip. She feels bad in a way, but not bad enough to regret making you hers. "I'm sorry, bug."

You sigh as you reach over and pull Wanda close, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. The blanket shifts down, exposing Wanda's neck and collarbone where you had unabashedly marked up.

"Now, are you done with the questions, or can we resume where we left off?" You ask mischievously, pressing languid kisses against the side of her neck. 

Wanda closes her eyes with a soft hum, pressing her body closer to yours until you shift and move over Wanda. 

"I notice that you didn't mention anything about Darcy."

"Mention what exactly?" You say between kisses, stroking Wanda's hip. "That I was insanely jealous and wished her ill? Although, now that I know it was a fake date and neither of you had interest in each other, she seems nice."

Wanda laughs. "Even after she hacked your laptop?"

"With your help, might I remind you," you pull up and pointedly look at her. "But if she never corrupted those wedding files, I would've never got the original SD card and found out about your feelings."

"Very true," Wanda muses as she throws her head around your neck and pulls you close. She pecks your lips charmingly. "We should get her a nice bottle of wine."

"What about Steve and Bucky."

Wanda scoffs. "They're meddling little school girls who are probably kicking their feet and giggling."

You can't help but laugh before you dive in for another kiss, eager but slow. Oh, man. You were going to love Wanda for the rest of your life.

After a moment, Wanda sighs. "Okay, fine. We can give our McDonald's coupons to Steve and Bucky."

You laugh again. "Alright, brat."

"Okay, stinky."

"Chicken."

"Stupid."

"Witch."

"Here we go again with that," Wanda rolls her eyes with a smile. "I'll have you know that if I were a witch, I'd be the most powerful and best witch ever."

"I bet you would," you agree very readily. "Instead of cursing people to death, you'd be saving their lives...or causing mass chaos. Huh, I guess that's not so different from now." 

Wanda scoffs indignantly before she starts tickling you. You laugh, trying to jerk away, but Wanda is persistent in keeping you in place. 

"Mercy!" You laugh as you roll to the side. 

"Take that back! I do not cause chaos!"

"I take it back! You're clearly an A-List superhero!"

Wanda continues to tickle you anyway. "Say you love me!"

"I love you!"

Only then does Wanda stop, grinning wickedly as she presses a chaste kiss to your lips, and you're breathing heavily.

You want to call her a menace, but you're afraid that will only result in another tickle fight. 

Wanda smiles warmly.

"I love you, too."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"See, I told you Wanda would be the one to confess!" Steve smirks.

"That's because you're a little cheater who went and nudged Wanda along," Bucky rolls his eyes with a smile.

"Oh, yeah, like you're the perfect picture of fair," Steve narrows his eyes. "Don't think I don't know that you went to Bug first. I had to step in and nudge Wanda to make the odds even."

"Was it really Wanda who confessed when it was Bug who technically discovered her secret."

Steve seems to think about it before he slumps into the sofa, "I feel like that's a gray area." Then, Steve frowns. "Ugh, but then that means neither of us wins the bet."

"We can just call it even," Bucky shrugs, laying his head on Steve's shoulder.

"Oh, no," Steve shakes his head. "I won't let you wriggle out of our bet. We will watch all the Lord of the Rings movies if you lose."

Bucky groans loudly. "But there's so many and they're so long."

"You really think I want to watch the Star Wars movies?" Steve rolls his eyes.

"They're a classic!" Bucky argues.

"So is Lord of the Rings."

Bucky huffs but concedes. "Fine," he wrinkles his nose. "Should we bet on something else?"

"No, I like the thrill of two people getting together, even if it takes time. Besides, we have the time since we have to finish a whole bunch of shows," Steve says.

"Hm, which ones of our friends are due to get together?" Bucky muses.

"We could try Nat and Maria," Steve suggests.

"No, too hard since Maria doesn't live here," Bucky shakes his head and then offers, "Yelena and Kate?"

"I think they're actually already together," Steve furrows his brows. "But if they're not, I'm too scared of Yelena to get involved in her affairs."

"I think that's all our friends who are technically single with a viable date option," Bucky sighs.

Silence falls between them before Steve suggests, "Want to bet when Tony and Pepper will announce they're pregnant?"

They stare at each other for a moment before they yell out their guess at the same time. 

"6 months!"

"6 months!"

The silliness of it all leaves Steve and Bucky giggling. 

[moodyvoid]

if the lov decided to have a movie night, what movie would each of them want to pick?

The League of Villains movie night choices.

Okay keep in mind I don’t know Japanese films so this is all coming from my own americanized movie knowledge. These are merely suggestions and there could be way better Japanese movie options for each of them!!!

Mr. Compress: I could see Compress having such a wide range of taste. Musicals, yes. Mafia movies, yes. True Crime Documentaries, yes. Heist movies, yes. Courtroom Dramas, yes. Old black and white films, yes. Any of these genres could work for him. I’d say movies like “Ocean’s 11” “The Godfather” “Les Miserables” and “Sweeney Todd”.

Spinner: Spinner is gonna like some sci-fi action films like “The Terminator” or “Alien” series. He’s also going to like the nerdier stuff like the “Star Wars” and “Lord of the Rings” franchises. He also likes video game movies.

Toga: “JENNIFER’S BODY” — ENOUGH SAID. (romance, blood, girlies being bisexual.)

Dabi: I don’t see him watching very many movies, but he loves a good revenge plot like “The Crow”. Otherwise, any horror flick is also a good time for him. Sometimes psychological horror. Sometimes body horror. Everyone dreads when it’s Dabi’s turn to pick the movie. He tortures them on purpose. 💀 (Which he is very proud of— also, speaking of torture, he likes the “Saw” franchise).

Twice: COMEDIES like “Jackass” and “Stepbrothers”. Also ACTION COMEDIES like “Bad Boys” and “Hot Fuzz”. I can also see him liking some classic 80’s films like “The Goonies” and “Back to the Future”

Shigaraki: Similar to Dabi he also likes revenge movies, “John Wick” in particular— but even more similar to Spinner, MAKE ‘EM NERDY! “Kill Bill” vol 1&2. VIDEO GAME movies. “Resident Evil” “Silent Hill” “Mortal Kombat”

Yeah, they all argue every movie night.

The only ones not arguing are Shigaraki and Spinner bc their tastes are similar.

[valiwrites]

EYES ON YOU PART 3 ✧.* joao felix

requested by: @iluvjoaofelix14

part 1 part 2

warnings: none

MASTERLIST

It had been a week since your first date with Joao, and yet, you still weren’t over it.

You and Lila were sprawled across your bed, a bowl of popcorn between you as music played softly in the background. Lila was lying on her stomach, scrolling through her phone, while you stared at the ceiling, reliving every little moment from that night.

"So, let’s recap," Lila said, tossing a piece of popcorn in the air and catching it in her mouth. "You guys went to that cute little Italian place, talked for hours, he walked you home, and then—"

You groaned, covering your face with a pillow. "Lila—"

She grinned. "And then he kissed you on your doorstep like something straight out of a rom-com!"

Your face heated up. "Okay, yes, fine. He kissed me."

Lila sighed dramatically. "Ugh. It’s like a football fairytale. Do you think I should start writing wedding speeches now, or—"

You threw a pillow at her. "Shut up."

She cackled, but before she could continue, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You reached for it lazily, not thinking much of it—until you saw the name on the screen.

Joao.

Your heart did a little flip. He hadn’t called you out of the blue before.

Lila immediately noticed your expression. "What? Who is it?"

You swallowed, turning the phone toward her.

Her eyes widened. "Oh, my God. Answer it! What are you waiting for?!"

You took a deep breath, then picked up. "Hey, Joao."

There was a pause. Then, finally, his voice—soft, hesitant. "Hey."

Something was wrong.

You sat up, suddenly alert. "What’s going on?"

Another pause. Then—

"I’m leaving England."

The words hit you like a punch to the stomach. "What?"

Joao exhaled. "I just got the call. I’m going on loan to AC Milan. I leave tonight."

Your heart dropped. "Tonight?"

"I wanted to tell you sooner, but everything happened so fast," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I don’t want to leave without saying goodbye. Can you come to the airport?"

You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Joao was leaving. Just like that.

Lila sat up beside you, watching your expression shift from confusion to sadness. She didn’t know what was happening yet, but she could tell something was wrong.

You swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. "Yeah," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll be there."

Joao let out a small breath, like he was relieved. "Okay. I’ll see you soon."

When you hung up, Lila grabbed your shoulders. "What happened? What’s wrong?"

You blinked, trying to process it all. "Joao’s leaving. He’s going on loan to Milan. Tonight."

Lila’s mouth fell open. "What the hell?!"

"He wants me to come to the airport so we can say goodbye."

Lila was already jumping off the bed. "Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!"

The drive to the airport was a blur. You stared out the window, trying to keep yourself together, but the lump in your throat was growing by the second.

"He’s going to come back, you know," Lila said, glancing at you. "It’s just a loan. He’s not leaving forever."

You nodded, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

By the time you arrived, the departures terminal was busy with travelers rushing around, but you only had eyes for one person.

And then—you saw him.

Joao stood near the check-in area, hoodie pulled over his head, hands tucked into his pockets. But when he saw you, his whole face softened.

You barely took two steps before he was in front of you, looking down at you with those warm, familiar brown eyes.

"Hey," he said softly.

You swallowed. "Hey."

His gaze flickered over your face, like he was trying to memorize every detail. "I didn’t want to leave without seeing you."

You nodded, trying to smile, but your throat was tight. "I’m really gonna miss you, Joao."

His brows furrowed, and then suddenly, his hand was cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. "Don’t cry," he murmured. "I’ll come back."

You let out a shaky breath. "You promise?"

His lips quirked up in the smallest, saddest smile. "I promise."

And then—he kissed you.

Soft, warm, lingering. Like he wanted to stay in this moment forever. Like he didn’t want to leave at all.

Lila, standing a few feet away, practically squealed under her breath. "Oh my God."

But just as you melted into the kiss, something inside you snapped.

You suddenly pulled back, heart racing.

Joao blinked in confusion. "What’s wrong?"

You didn’t even think before you said it. "I’m going with you."

Joao’s eyes widened. "What?"

"You can’t," he stammered, looking completely overwhelmed. "You have a life here—"

"Yes, she can," Lila interrupted, stepping forward with a wicked grin. "I’ll pack your stuff and send it to you. Go."

You turned to her, heart pounding. "Are you sure?"

Lila rolled her eyes. "Babe. The love of your life is about to get on a plane. Go."

Tears welled in your eyes, but this time, they weren’t from sadness. You threw your arms around Lila, hugging her tightly. "I love you so much."

She laughed. "I know. Now get out of here before I start crying too."

You turned back to Joao, who was still staring at you like he couldn’t believe this was real.

"You really want to come with me?" he asked, voice soft, uncertain.

You smiled, taking his hand in yours. "There’s nowhere else I’d rather be."

For a moment, he just looked at you, his lips parting like he wanted to say something. But then, instead of speaking—he kissed you again.

And this time, it wasn’t a goodbye.