#he would INSIST that's not what he wants it for

[readwritealldayallnight]

I would love a take on boyfriend Ghost coming home to surprise you, but he finds your bed empty and doesn't realize that you are in his room in his bed. Thanks.

The placebo effect, was what he kept trying to convince you it had to be, no matter how many times you rolled your eyes and told him he was wrong

How else could one explain your insistence that Simon’s bed smelled so much like him, becoming your safe space when he was away on long deployments, when he only ever slept with you in your bed most nights to begin with

Hard to believe it was nearly three years ago now that you’d told your friend since childhood, Johnny, about how your search for a new flat was going miserably. You remember how he’d perked up and recounted with a mischievous glint in his eye about how his Lieutenant was apparently searching for a flat mate at the moment, someone who’d be looking after the place while he was away for work

Unsure about living with a strange man you’d never met before, but trusting Johnny’s judgement (though the way he seemed just a bit too eager about this meeting did kind of throw you off-) you had reluctantly agreed to meet with him and at least give the flat a glance before you simply turned him down

It wasn’t until you were knocking at the door of the address Johnny had written down for you, that you’d realized he’d never even given you the man’s goddamn name, only ever referring to him at Lieutenant or LT

Johnny apparently also failed to mention the absolute SIZE of the guy, his huge frame blocking nearly all of the light from behind him as he had swung the door open and stood in the doorway before you

In a slight panic, thrown off by the massive man before you and the way the butterflies in your stomach suddenly began to flutter at the sight of him, you had greeted him for the first time with a squeaky, unsure voice saying ‘Um, hi, are you the Mr Lieutenant?’ (something he has never let you live down since)

He knew then and there that you would be the one

Not just his flatmate (though what a generous flatmate he was when he offered insisted on moving all your boxes out of your old place and into his that very same day), but the one, something he reluctantly had to give Soap credit for, seeing as he was the one who wouldn’t stop talking his ear off about you

You would be his other half, his better half

And all these years later, the two bedroom flat truly only acted as a one bedroom, considering that from the start Simon was always falling into your bed with you at the end of each night, limbs tangled together under the warmth of a lovers embrace a thousand times more comforting than an actual comforter

Still though, that first time Simon had to be gone for work longer than a few weeks, you found the lingering odor of him clinging to his bedsheets to be one of the few things keeping you sane in his absence, taking to sleeping in his room for the time being, imagining that the pillow you cling to your front was a strong muscular arm instead, littered in scars and tattoos you feel confident you could recognize from touch alone

And when his long awaited flight back home to you landed a few hours earlier than expected, tires touching down in the dark, stillness of late night hour, he decided he’d surprise you and come straight home, rather than calling you to meet him at the base like you’d insisted, not wanting to wake you

Barely able to contain himself, he decided the elevator ride up to the seventh floor would take too long, take away precious seconds that brought him closer to you, and so up the flight of stairs he went, taking them two or three at a time, rushing to see the face etched behind his eyelids every time he closed his eyes, to hear the voice that haunted his dreams each night

Quietly as a man his size could, he crept into the flat, snuck his way into your room, expecting to see your sweet, sleeping form cuddled up amongst the blankets and pillows. But his heart dropped when he noticed the bed was still perfectly made, not a thread out of place.

Trying to remain calm, though his mind was instantly swarming with every possible scenario that could have taken place, he knew he saw your shoes and jacket by the door, you couldn’t have gone far… but where were you?

He glanced into the living room, wondering if he missed you sleeping on the couch after a long day, he poked his head into the bathroom, even went so far as to check the small balcony, but finally there was only one door left to open.

And there you were, safe and sound, a tiny ball curled up into the center of his huge bed, clinging to one of his old masks and holding it close to your chest as though it were a security blanket (you’d been sleeping in his bed so much you needed something that still smelled strongly of him, you were getting desperate)

Stripping himself down to only his boxers, he tiptoed towards the side of the bed, his mind finally feeling more at peace than he ever had, gently pulling the sheets back just enough for him to slip in behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you into his muscular chest

Though it should be alarming to suddenly feel a pair of hands roaming over your skin, a body holding you firmly against their own, it’s as though your body knows who it is before your mind does

Any tension you were still holding onto during his absence instantly melts away, your own hands coming to land over top of his, giving a slight squeeze of acknowledgment, not yet willing to fully leave your half asleep state, but needing to touch him, to confirm he really is here

“Hmm,” You hum, voice groggy with sleep and a smile slowly stretching across your lips, snuggling further into his embrace. “You’re home.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, breathing you in, wishing he could bottle up the scent of your shampoo and lotions and perfumes, if only to have something to hold onto while he’s away, understanding now why he found you in this bed rather than your own

“I am.” He whispers into your hair, sensing that you’re already drifting back into dream land, safe in his arms and his bed, knowing he’ll be there when you wake. He feels his chest tighten when he knows that you weren’t talking about the fact that he’s physically home, in the flat, but something more, something much more, because he means the same thing when he tells you, “You’re my home too, love.”

[viaviavie]

BLOT BATTLEMENT (100 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE)

in which he suffers watching you fawn over his overblotted copy who seems to be in love with you.

SUMMARY: after an experiment gone wrong, an overblotted clone of one of the victims has re-emerged. luckily for everyone, it's reasonably powerless and will eventually disappear. unluckily for him, the clone seems to reflect his true feelings towards you.

PAIRINGS: overblot gang x reader (seperately)

WARNINGS: suggestive (for jamil, vil, and idia), slight possibility of drowning (azul), projection for ob!vil

NOTES: this is in celebration of hitting 100 followers! thank you so much for following my work, and for all the comments you have left behind! i will also be rewriting malleus's section once book 7 is complete! on another note, pls invade my inbox if you immediately see that reference from malleus's section, mwah!

"That's enough. If one of you barks one more time, I will have to show you what happens to unruly puppies that won't obey." Crewel sighs and pinched his nose, another hand gripping his baton in irritation. "Unfortunately, we cannot fix this in an hour. You bad doggies need to get along until this entire issue is resolved."

The professor clicked his tongue, shoving the two out of his office. "I have already contacted someone to get you both. Surely, the Prefect has survived both of you once and will be able to do it again. So stay put, and be good. Or else."

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Seeing his Overblotted self summons waves of shame and embarrassment for Riddle. It was not his best moment at all, and that inky copy is a reflection of his worst flaws and traits. You could imagine how rushed Riddle was to collar his copy in fear that it would hurt others again, especially you who had already dealt with it once.

"Don't make me repeat myself, I demand that I see my King of Hearts, this instant!" It's very much like babysitting a spoiled child, and it makes Riddle so wracked with embarrassment. He cannot control his copy as it stomps and yells outrageous demands to see you. Riddle was really on the verge of collaring it and dragging it back to Heartsyabul when you turned the corner.

OB!Riddle's smile is so wide that it could be mistaken as sinister. "My rose!" Inky blot is smeared all over your uniform as the fake runs towards you. Just as Riddle was about to whip out his wand to stop it, you relax and return the embrace, albeit with a confused expression. Riddle manages to explain very quickly whilst trying to pry off his copy, but you suggest that it is best to let it do what it wants.

What Riddle doesn't tell you is that his copy reflects his desires as well, claiming he is uncertain why it insists on being so affectionate with you. However, it seems to be quite the blessing when OB!Riddle marches to the Heartslabyul dorm to resume its position as Housewarden. In fact, the entire dorm thanks you profusely for being able to manage that little tyrant with a bat of your eyelashes and a gentle voice.

"Trappola, have you not learned your lesson!? Rule #186, you shall not eat hamburg steak on Tuesday! OFF WITH YOUR HEAD—" Tapping lightly on its shoulder, you attempt to placate the copy with a weak smile. "Riddle— I mean, Housewarden Riddle, Ace has not been able to eat all day and the steak was the only thing left in the cafeteria. He did not have much of a choice." Suddenly, the copy's face softened before relaxing back into its seat.

"My rose, I mustn't bend the rules. If I bent them for one, I would have to bend them for all." It scowls, only sinking further into its chair as you rub gentle circles around his forearm. The entire table stares at you with looks of gratitude and relief, all in agreement that you just saved everyone a tantrum's worth of stress. You hummed at the copy, nodding softly. "I know, dear. May I remind you that rules are there to ensure everyone is happy and safe? If Ace hadn't eaten his lunch, perhaps he might have gorged on the tarts instead."

"I suppose you are right, my King of Hearts."

Riddle seethes from the other side of the table, arms crossed and face on the verge of turning red. It was hard for him to decide whether he was merely jealous, or upset at his own copy rampaging around as if he were the real one in charge. He pauses for a moment as an epiphany comes to him.

Is this what it looks like whenever the Prefect is here to calm me down from my temper?

Even though OB!Riddle cannot use his magic, Riddle is extremely watchful of his copy. It is perhaps the ugliest side of him, and the last thing he wants is an Unbirthday Party ruined and spoiled by ink. They only had to put up with it for a day, and surely, Riddle has enough patience to ride out this episode.

He does have to watch and hold himself back as his copy acts so familiar with you. A hand at your lower back, perhaps an inky kiss on the cheek, and you being referred to as 'his rose'? It should have been me!

When his copy disappears, Riddle takes the time to pull you aside and admit the truth behind the blot's behavior. His jealousy seems to have pushed him into confessing, and he makes it clear that he would rather earn your feelings properly instead of coercing you for affection with potential tantrums.

"Forgive me, Prefect. I apologize for my copy's behavior. I have to tell you the truth— it was reflecting my innermost feelings. Prefect, I harbor these affections for you and I yearn to be more than friends. You do not have to tell me anything else at the moment. If you wish for time, I understand as well. Allow me to be curt, at least just this once. I like you more than a friend should, and I would hope to hear your response soon." (So polite!)

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

What a drag. Does he really need to help monitor his own Overblotted self? If you were able to survive it once, you should be able to handle that huge lion on your own. OB!Leona appears to be nothing but a grumpy lion who answers to no one, only being forcibly dragged around by his original self.

It changes when you show up. Suddenly, the copy springs to life in your presence and is completely disobeying the original.

You are taken by surprise when OB!Leona backs you onto a wall, a clawed hand lightly brushing against your cheek. "Herbivore," He breathed as his green eyes zoned in on you. "You should be more careful when you wander these halls alone." You couldn't help but gulp as he grins, fangs glinting against the sunlight. "You never know who might just be planning to eat you."

But when Leona takes notice of his Overblot's sharp nails cut into your skin, his attitude changes as well. The original takes initiative to pull you away and stand between you both. Perhaps you don't understand the way they bare teeth at one another, taking aggressive stances as if one or the other would jump and claw at their target. It sets the tone for a very tense environment as you attempt to drag them both to Savanaclaw.

It was best to keep both lion beastmen confined in his room. Considering that OB!Leona was focused on getting your attention, it wasn't hard to manage him. It was all that his overblotted self wanted; attention and absolute adoration. Leona, on the other hand, was more so bothered by the fact you smelled too much like ink in his own room.

"Tell me, do you look at anyone else like this?" Having been kicked out of his own bed, Leona could only stare blankly from his couch as his copy kept you trapped against its chest on the mattress. It only served to annoy him further when you seemed to reciprocate the attention it was giving you. "No, only you." The copy smirks, its tail entangled around one of your legs. "Then tell me, why? What do you adore about me?"

You hummed, sighing while your hand began to play with his mane-like hair. "You're brilliant. You're the most cunning lion that I know." Leona swears you were teasing him as you take a quick glance at him, smiling slightly. "And you're the only one that can protect me." With a mocking grin, the copy cups your cheek and returns your gaze to his own. "Tell me more, herbivore."

When the copy finally reverts back to ink, Leona can't help but find some relief in having the bed (and you) all to himself again. The first thing he does is drag you to the mattress and keep you trapped against his chest. You still smell of ink and lion, and it's his job to fix that.

"Go to bed, herbivore... Ha? I don't have to give you an explanation. You're a smart cookie, haven't you figured it out yet? ... Even with all the answers my blotted copy gave you, you're still not satisfied? Hmph, that's not my problem anymore. You're mine now, is that what you wanted to hear? ... Good. Now if that is all, let's go to sleep. You reek of ink..."

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

It had become priority to get Azul's overblotted self into the biggest Octanivelle tank, which also happened to be the most isolated one. While OB!Azul seemed to be temporarily human, he seemed more irate with each second spent on the surface. It only relaxes slightly when it spots you, but his grip on your arm never relents. "Prefect, please. I need the sea..." He's just so needy and in pain. You'd help him, would you?

Azul is absolutely livid. He doesn't want you to see his copy in such a pathetic state. He most certainly tried to get you to turn the other way and march straight home, but you had to hit him with, "Even if it's your overblotted self, I would still help you." It might have been just a small comment, but he takes it as if you would move mountains for him. You weren't making it transactional, and that's practically special treatment for him.

You thought that his overblotted self would settle once in that tank. The copy immediately sheds its human form in favor of his merform, much to Azul's embarrassment. The businessman ready to drag you out and leave that blotted mess to fend for itself when a tentacle had dragged you into the water. Suddenly, you're met with teary blue eyes just before you were submerged. "You didn't plan to leave me here alone, did you?"

And goodness, Azul is just torn between fuming and panicking as his copy drags you further and further down. To make things worse, you haven't even taken a breathing potion! That was more than enough to make the octomer shake off his anxieties and plunge down into the waters after you before you drowned.

"And then what? What exactly were you planning to do once you had the Prefect here?" Azul pinched the bridge of his nose as he crossed his arms, unable to even make eye contact with you. Clutching at the little potion bottle in your hands, you do your best to ignore the way that the copy's tentacles seem to latch onto every single limb of yours. Not to mention how they twitch and slowly coil against your skin, or the way that the copy buries itself into your neck with a whine while it ignores its original.

"Why? Why won't you give me an answer?" It murmurs, arms caging you into its chest. You can see Azul's jaw clench, but you cannot exactly tell if he's embarrassed by how pathetic his overblot can be or envious of how it got a chance to be so close. "I'll give you everything. You will never want for anything. All you have to do is say that you'll be mine." The copy grits its teeth as it tightens its grip on you, tearing a surprised gasp from your throat.

"Why won't you surrender to me?"

The moment that this entire fiasco ends, you never see Azul for another two weeks. Every time you go to the Mostro Lounge to see him, he's suddenly occupied with every single disaster known to man. It isn't until Floyd gets bored of the entire thing when you get the opportunity to be tossed into the tank again. It isn't until Azul jumps into the tank after you with another breathing potion to save you, again.

"Please don't speak of that incident, Prefect. I wish you never had to be witness to such a sorry display... W-What do you mean Floyd told you about that botched blot experiment?! ... Don't play with me, Prefect. You can't just say that you'll surrender to me, you'll hurt my poor heart! ... If you dare say it again, I am afraid that the contract can never be broken. Choose your next words wisely, Prefect. Not all agreements have to be in writing."

JAMIL VIPER

Of all the Overblots here, Jamil's was the most... unhinged one, surprisingly. It was also the nastiest, based on how it seemed to disregard everyone around him. Truly, it was the worst of Jamil's envy and wrath towards everyone around him for shaping him as a servant. No matter what Jamil did to snap some sense into his copy's head, it only served to tick it off even more.

When you came to assess the situation, however, you immediately got the sense that the Overblot will not be cooperative unless it gets what it wants.

"Master Jamil," Both copy and original froze, slowly turning their heads to you, who has knelt onto the floor with a small smile. "A frown does not suit such a handsome face. Is there anything I can do for you?" Jamil remains frozen, mentally screaming in his head while his Overblotted self smirks, sauntering towards you with desire swirling in his maddened gaze. "Rise, my diamond. You certainly may do a little favour for me..."

Thanks to Kalim and the coordination of the entire Scarabia dorm, everyone has tricked OB!Jamil into thinking it was the boss of the place (at least for a day, Kamil is super understanding of the situation!). At least someone expected the copy to see through this farce, but OB!Jamil's ego was so stroked by you and everyone around that it seemed to buy into the delusion.

Unlike Leona's copy which was super uninterested with anything that didn't concern you, Jamil's blotted self was extremely irritant with everyone else. Had it not been for you, Jamil would never be able to live down the embarrassment for having such an... unpleasant copy. So far, there have been no disasters while Jamil was occupied with keeping his copy at bay.

It's just that... Jamil has been watching from the sidelines as you are perched on his copy's lap, feeding it and attending to it's every beck and call!

Gripping his knee, Jamil's eyes narrowed onto your flushed gaze as your fingers combed through his copy's hair. If he had envied everything that Kalim ever wase, he certainly envied the abomination wearing his face as it rested its head on your lap. You didn't have to look at Jamil to know that he was seething, but it wasn't as if you could abandon the blotted copy either. It had only been a few hours since it had latched onto you, and this was not the best time to agitate it.

"It seems that I have not rewarded you." The copy sings. Its expression remains content, shuddering at the sensation of your fingers pulling gently at its scalp. "Do tell me what you desire most." Your breath hitched at the copy's purr. You do not react either as the fake Jamil sits up to caress your warm cheek. Biting onto your lower lip, you shook your head. "I desire nothing but to make you happy, master." You swear that you see Jamil's expression strain itself, and you already see how tight he grips his knee.

"Is that so?" You say nothing when the copy leans in closer to you, licking its lips with intent. You should be frightened, and most certainly be running away, but you don't. "You wish to make me happy, then? Is it me that you want?"

All the signs were there. That copy's hand was pressed against your lower back, the other hand was on your cheek, and his face was so so close—

Its lips are hot to the touch, and you melt immediately into his hands as he pushes and prods with his tongue. Against the candlelight, Jamil cannot tell if your cheeks were truly flushed red. He watches as your own hands crept up onto the copy's shoulders, pressing and digging nails into its shoulders until you have the strength to push yourself away for air.

You pant as your vision returns to you, meeting the copy's cruel smirk. It is looking down on you, and yet, you do not feel animosity towards it. You only feel disappointment once you recall it was only a fake.

"Or perhaps," A gasp is torn from your throat when the fake grabs your cheeks with a firm hand, forcing your gaze to fall upon a stunned, yet flushed Jamil. The copy smiles wickedly against your cheek, humming with absolute glee.

"Is it him that you want instead?"

You nod, and Jamil's heart skips a beat.

Yeah, no. Our boy Jamil ain't recovering from this. The moment that the blot disappears, you best expect that Jamil ain't letting you leave that room without an answer.

"I wouldn't act coy right now, Prefect. You may be clever, but I have no patience for your antics. Now, are you going to be honest with me? ... Why don't you tell me what you want, instead? What? But you were so honest with that fake only a few moments ago. Where have your words gone? ... You wish for me to force the truth out of you, then? ... As you wish, Prefect. I will give you everything you want."

VIL SCHOENHEIT

This was such an inconvenience for poor Vil, and he hates his copy to the same extent that Azul does. Just like Riddle, Vil feels a sense of shame when he looks at his doppelganger because it was a personification of his insecurities and selfishness. However, at least the copy was very calm and cooperative, perhaps even melancholy until it sees you.

Seeing Vil's Overblotted self again doesn't change the fact that the fake was still so beautiful. You are actually stunned into silence when you are brought before the two. Grim swears you have stopped functioning because being in the presence of two Vil's is too much for this world.

If you weren't watching yourself, you would've passed out the moment OB!Vil cupped your cheek with its inky hand and smiled down at you. "Ah, Prefect..." You gulped as it cooed at you, much to Vil's alarm. Its surely dangerous, but danger loves you so much and you can't pull away from it.

OB!Vil never lets you out of its sight after that. Wherever you went, the blot would follow. It seems to be fixated on being in your sights, which was not exactly a problem when you brought yourself to Vil's quarters where you would wait the entire thing out. It does concern you, however, just as the copy seems to grow more and more unhinged with each second that passes.

Vil is not exactly envious of how intimate the fake acts with you. Rather, he's extremely perplexed and observant of the way it pines for your attention and praise like a lovesick puppy. However, it isn't always so sweet. It isn't so sweet when the copy comes so close to scratching at your skin as it begs for your honesty. It certainly does not appreciate being lied to.

"Tell me, Prefect. Who is the fairest one of all?" It asks for the hundredth time.

Vil cannot exactly explain how he found himself watching his copy cage you into his own bed. It has straddled your hips, pinning your hands down onto the mattress without a care for the mess it makes. Ink drips and spills over his silk sheets, his pillows, you. Your neck has been smeared with ink, and so have your clothes. His copy is smiling with ink dripping from its lips and its hair, an obscure yet beautiful mockery of the original.

The original's breath hitches as your lips part into a breathy smile. You look like absolute art, and his fake looks like an absolute mess. "You, Vil. You're the fairest one of all." Vil shut his eyes at your quiet whisper, and he wishes that you stop bending yourself over for this pathetic imitation of him.

The copy snorted in dismissal, a sinister grin taking over its features. "Ha!" Even as it grips your wrists tighter, you know better than to believe that the copy would dare hurt you. Your heart pounds, however, as it leans in closely to your face with desperation on its breath. "Why do you say such, Prefect? Why do you say such when you feast your gaze on the ugliest part of me?" A choked breath stills the copy, its grin growing more crooked and maddened. Ink splashes against your cheek, and the copy pathetically takes a long finger to smear it away, only obscuring your features further.

"Are you trying to lie to me?" It croaked, maintaining that desperately smile.

Vil thinks you'll push it away. Vil thinks that you think of his copy so hideously, and so ugly. Vil thinks that you see him as ugly.

And you dispel all those cursed thoughts as your hand reaches out to cup the copy's cheek, dirtying your own hand in turn. "You've pushed yourself so hard, Vil. You've worked hard for everything you dreamed of." The copy's crazed expression remains, and more ink pours into you. Still, you return it with a gentle smile of your own. "Even when everyone complains, you're only pushing them because you care the most. Perhaps you act like the evil queen everyone makes you out to be, but that crown is yours by right."

Vil's heart stops. He still cannot bring himself to look at the sight. It's that cynical part of him that believe in your acting skills, that this was all a ruse to satiate his fake. The knife digs into his chest further as you hummed sweetly. "Your flaws are just as beautiful to me."

Only then does Vil bring himself to look at his copy. It is still smiling, eyes so wide as blotted tears fall upon your skin. You are covered in ink, covered in the ugliness that had consumed Vil, but you accept it all. You embrace the mess, just as you embrace the ugliness of Vil's heart. "Do you truly mean it, Prefect?" Its whisper shakes with hope, very much unlike the weariness and suspicion it held towards you the entire time.

Both you and the copy slowly glance at the real Vil whose eyes had widened at your softened gaze, filled with nothing but adoration. The heart in his chest ached, and he imagines that his entire body is melting into your hands. You are his weakness, after all.

"I mean every word, Vil."

When the situation died down, Vil takes the time to walk you back to Ramshackle Dorm. However, he makes a quick stop when the moon is set at the right spot, just to cast down light on your starstruck gaze.

"To think that the ugliest part of me revealed such feelings— you deserve an appropriate confession, at the very least. The affection that my fake expressed to you was no different to what I feel for you. I realize... that you meant more to me than you should have. I am not a benevolent prince, nor am I pure as the white snow. Still, I offer my heart for you to keep in a box. I only ask you to accept me, for all my beauty and ugliness... Ha, potato. My lovely potato, you're mine..."

IDIA SHROUD

Surprisingly, Idia got along the most with his Overblotted self. It wasn't as if he was driven by pride or competition— there was just some sort of acceptance when OB!Idia was first manifested. There wouldn't have been much issues.

At least, that was what he wanted to believe before OB!Idia set his eyes on you. It sent Idia into a choking fit when he saw OB!Idia approach you with such cool indifference, acting like one of those aloof protagonists from those dark otome games that he saw on a playthrough once. It's the way that OB!Idia leaned down towards your ear, muttering something about his boredom and suggesting to retreat to his dorm.

Idia took an hour to recover before sprinting to his dorm to ensure nothing has happened. All he found was you sitting on OB!Idia's thighs (it insisted!), and Idia swore that his copy was smirking at him.

OB!Idia was nothing to be concerned about. It wasn't as if it had the power to open up the Gate of the Underworld, which so happened to be far away. Other than the fact that the copy seems so... forward with you, Idia tried his hardest to ignore it.

"You look tense, Prefect." The copy smirked as it gently backed you against the wall. It places an arm right above your head, the figure leaning down at you. Behind the mask it wore, you can almost see it smirking down on you. "Don't I scare you?"

If this was the copy's attempt to intimidate you, ha! You got it covered! Idia is practically weak to any sort of romantic notion, it should surely send his overblot into a flustered fit! Boldly, you close in the gap slightly, crossing your arms around his neck and smiled at him. "Not at all, Idia." Much to your surprise, however, the copy takes its hand to cradle the back of your head, gently nudging your face closer until you barely a hair's worth away from kissing his mask.

"Are you sure about that?"

Suddenly a flare of red catches your attention as you glance to the side to see a fuming Idia who snuck over to your side. Wrapping a possessive arm around your middle, the original Idia glared at the fake and gritted his sharp teeth. "Listen here, bucko. You ain't getting more action than me, so buzz off!" He towers over you, hair threatening to burn orange if this fake continues to toy with you. "You wanna play, huh? Only one of us can have her, and you're nothing but a MagicMart knock-off!"

Cocking its head to the side, the copy snorted. It didn't seem to relent its hold it had on you. Instead, it leaned in towards Idia with a taunting stare. "Yeah? Why don't you ask the Prefect, hm? Seems like our little guest is enjoying all the attention." Both of them glance down at you, who seemed to be busy turning red to even give a proper response.

The blotted copy takes its hand to cup your cheek gently, but it was only a ruse as it forces you to look at Idia, eyes hazy with want. The way your breath shudders makes the original itch to steal you away from the copy.

"Don't you?"

Take that ending however you will. Idia does end up confessing to you once his copy is reduced to ink once more.

"Don't give me that look, Prefect. You totally loved seeing me get all riled up. And don't you dare deny you hated the idea of getting sandwiched by two of me... Please don't make me say it. I ain't good at the 'asking out' part, but I don't wanna skip over to straight up dating. Ugh, fine. I actually liked you for a really long time, and oh Great Seven, I just hope that I'm saying the right stuff to get onto your route. You're the only route that I wanna pursue."

MALLEUS DRACONIA (Book 7 is incomplete at the time of this posting)

Had it not been for the lack of potency in the blot, OB!Malleus would have been the end of NRC. Lilia was not a stranger to Malleus's ability to change the environment based on his mood. Even when this was a mere fake that they were dealing with, no one really wants to find out the consequences of upsetting the copy.

Malleus looks down on his Overblotted self. It was a flawed part of him, but nonetheless, a part of him that he was most disappointed by. The Fae Prince should know better than to act so wickedly, but the original understands. He tries to be as sympathetic as he can be for the copy, but it was only indifferent to what the original demanded of it.

Being the concerned friend that you were, you went to see them both despite all warnings from Sebek. Admittedly, Malleus would rather you be as far away from this poor imitation as possible. He does not want to see you hurt, let alone be at the mercy of his copy. Alas, it is too late now. The blotted copy will not allow you to leave.

Malleus hid his frustrations and anger underneath that collected demeanor. The only thing keeping him from doing anything rash was the fact that you were cradled against his chest. With a protective arm holding your waist, you were seated upon the fae's lap. The copy is forced to look up at him as he sat on his makeshift throne, and the fury behind its eyes is most evident, based on the way its hands grip your knees as if it were the only piece of you left.

Alas, it is only a stalemate now. With each tug that the copy made at your lower half, Malleus would simply pull you closer to him in turn. The fae hummed, glaring down at the copy who seems indifferent to intimidation. "Prefect, you may only say the word and this fake will be no more." He grunted, and you resist the urge to whimper as the copy's lips turned upwards into a smile. "If you wish for it, Prefect, I will disappear." It cooed, and the glint in its eyes reflecting the madness of blot.

Hesitantly, you shake your head and only feel Malleus's nails brush against your waist. "I don't want you to disappear." You whispered meekly, uncertain of what to think of the fake's lovestruck gaze. "Prefect, do you know what I can give you?" Even as the fake is forced down by the original, it still has the nerve to reach out and cup your cheek. "I can grant your dreams. I can make your fantasies a reality. I can give you everything."

Malleus lets out a breath of warning, leaning down to your ear as he narrowed his eyes at the fake with restraint. "Do not listen to this mockery, Prefect." His words are tinged with a hint of desperation, as if he had something to hide, something to shield you from. No matter how much he attempts to intimidate the fake, his blotted self presses on with a cruel smile.

"Prefect, all you have to do is love me, fear me, and do as I say. I will be your servant to will, to rule, to ruin." You are frozen as Malleus loses his temper, swinging out his staff to dispel the fake once and for all. Much to his dismay, his blotted self backs away just in time as its glowing green eyes lock onto yours once more.

"All you have to do is stay with me, forever."

The campus lets out a collective sigh of relief when the OB!Malleus disappears. However, suddenly, the entire campus is holding its breath again when Malleus doesn't immediately let you leave his room.

"Prefect, I beseech for your forgiveness. I fear that the fake has reflected my most selfish desires... You have nothing to fear, for I shall never withhold you against your will. How could I do such a thing when I am already so weak to your whims? ... Perhaps you do not have to stay forever to render me your servant. I pine for you, Prefect. My heart has already been yours long before I noticed. Please, grant me your forgiveness, Prefect, lest you cast me aside and I shall let my feelings fade with time."

[savi0rr]

Darling Wife .ᐟ

Viktor x Fem! Reader

In which, Viktor has a sweet wife that, weirdly enough, no one really knew about.

a/n: hi divas! Erm this is my first time writing for Viktor so I'm sorry if he sounds out of character.

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"Viktor? What is that on your finger?" Jayce inquired, suddenly appearing behind Viktor and peering curiously over his shoulder. Viktor felt a knot form in his stomach as he glanced down at his hand, where a gleaming wedding band rested snugly on his finger. He cursed under his breath, realizing he had meant to remove it but had completely forgotten in the whirlwind of his work.

"Just a ring," Viktor replied evasively, casting a quick look back at Jayce while clicking his tongue in annoyance. Jayce, however, was undeterred. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest, a teasing smirk forming on his lips. "Isn’t that the same finger where wedding rings typically go?" he challenged, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Don’t tell me you actually have a wife?"

Viktor maintained his silence, his heart racing in response to Jayce’s playful interrogation. "Even if I did, I wouldn't share that information with you," he said tersely, redirecting his attention back to the Hextech gemstone in front of him, his mind racing as he tried to refocus on his work.

Jayce, still leaning casually against the desk, raised his eyebrow further, the smirk on his face beginning to fade away. He studied Viktor’s expression closely, a frown of confusion.

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“Viktor has a wife? That’s just absurd,” Mel declared, waving her hand dismissively as if to brush away the very notion. 

“No, I swear! He’s actually wearing a wedding ring. When I asked him about it, he responded with, ‘Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,’” Jayce insisted, leaning closer to Mel's desk, his hands planted firmly on the surface.

Mel rolled her eyes in disbelief, leaning back in her chair and letting her hands fall into her lap. “Who on Earth would marry Viktor?” she whispered, her curiosity piqued as she leaned forward slightly, her expression a mix of intrigue and skepticism. “No offense, but…” she trailed off, momentarily glancing away, her thoughts clearly racing.

Jayce sighed, exasperated. “I mean, it’s not the best image, is it?” he muttered, shrugging as he contemplated the idea. His mind seemed to wander as he contemplated the strange pairing. “Plus, why do you even care?” Mel asked, raising an eyebrow at him, a hint of playful challenge in her voice. “Because I want to know what she looks like!” he responded with a hint of frustration, glancing off to the side, and groaning.

Mel pondered for a moment, her brow furrowing. “Even if he did have a wife, wouldn’t she be here at the Academia with him?” she pointed out, her curiosity beginning to overshadow her previous skepticism. “That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Jayce exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. “It doesn’t add up!”

With a sigh, Mel straightened up, her expression turning serious. “Look, I have much bigger problems to deal with than figuring out who Viktor is married to,” she stated firmly.

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"When do you think he sees his wife?" Mel asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she peeked around the corner of the dimly lit hallway. The soft glow of fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting shadows on the walls of the Academia. Jayce followed her gaze, cautiously poking his head out to get a better look.

"Hmm... maybe when he isn’t buried under a mountain of work," Jayce mused, tilting his head and furrowing his brow in thought. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and he swept it back with a casual motion. Mel, with an exasperated huff, rolled her eyes dramatically. 

"You should know this! You’re his partner, for crying out loud," she murmured, her tone tinged with disbelief as she crossed her arms. Jayce's expression shifted to one of sheepishness, his cheeks flushing slightly as he glanced away, avoiding her accusatory gaze.

"But I leave before him. I'm already gone by the time he usually starts his day. And when I come back to the lab, it’s always just him—working away, lost in his experiments," Jayce replied, his shoulders lifting in a shrug that conveyed both confusion and resignation. He could sense Mel's frustration, but the truth was, Viktor’s work schedule was a puzzle he had yet to solve.

Mel sighed heavily, her brow knitting together in thought. "How do you not know… never mind," she grumbled, her voice trailing off as she turned her attention back to Viktor, who was at that moment preparing to leave. 

"Shhh!" Jayce hissed urgently, his eyes widening as he quickly placed a hand over Mel's mouth, the sound echoing loudly in the stillness. They both watched in silence as Viktor slowly began to rise, gripping his crutch tightly under his arm while gathering his belongings with meticulous care. He seemed unaware of the two pairs of eyes on him, lost in his own world.

Viktor gripped his documents as he walked down the hallway, his eyes narrowed. He made his way down to the back of the Academia, opening a door. Jayce and Mel looking out the window from the other story. "The hell is he doing?" Jayce muttered under his breath. "Look," Mel said, spotting you not too far in the distance. "Is that his wife?" Jayce whispered.

"Viktor." You spoke up, smiling when you saw him. You stood up from the bench you were sitting at. Viktor eagerly wobbled over to you. "I've been waiting." You teased lightly, taking the documents from his hand and placing them down on the bench. Viktor could only stare at you. He hadn't seen you in a while. But he'd never say that he missed you. "How are you doing?" You asked gently, guiding him to sit down, placing his crutch aside. "I've been...well," Viktor said plainly. "I could be better." He muttered, glancing off to the side. You nodded, sitting beside him. You glanced down at his hand, raising an eyebrow. "You wore your wedding ring?" You asked, a small smile forming on your face. Viktor's cheeks warmed a bit, sighing. "I meant to take it off." He grumbled as his fingers ran over the wedding band. "I'm glad you wore it. It suits you." You giggled lightly, placing your hand over his.

Meanwhile, with Jayce and Mel, they could only stare in shock. "Of course, he has a pretty wife too!" Jayce groaned as he shook his head. "Of course," Mel muttered as she sweat drops. "Who knew she was so darling?"

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[misswynters]

Scientific purposes

drabble

featuring. viktor x reader

warnings. suggestive, kissing in the council room

requested. @pinklunarprincess

In council chambers which were dimly lit, the last vestiges of daylight filtering through the tall, arched windows. The air carried the faint scent of ink and parchment, mingling with the lingering tension of earlier debates. You remained seated at the head of the long mahogany table, meticulously reviewing the day’s proposals when Viktor entered. He moved quietly, his mechanical brace clicking softly against the polished floor. His golden eyes lingered on you longer than necessary, an unreadable expression flickering across his face. This wasn’t his first visit today. He had come by twice already under the guise of needing your counsel. But this time, his intent seemed different, and the way he locked the door behind him sent a spark of anticipation down your spine.

“I see you’ve returned,” you remarked without looking up, your tone laced with playful exasperation. “What pressing matter is it this time, Viktor?”

He hesitated, his hands clasped behind his back. “There are… complexities in the hextech approval process. I thought it best to speak with you directly.” His voice was calm, measured, but the slight tremor betrayed him.

You tilted your head, finally meeting his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was undeniable, and it ignited something within you. “Complexities, hmm? Are you sure this couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Not with you here,” he replied softly, his honesty catching you off guard.

Rising from your seat, you took a slow step toward him, watching as his confidence wavered under your scrutiny. “You seem rather insistent tonight,” you mused, the faintest of smirks tugging at your lips. “Tell me, are these complexities truly about hextech? Or is there something else on your mind?”

His breath hitched as you closed the distance between you. “I—” he began, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. His gaze flickered to your lips, and he took a small step back, his resolve clearly wavering. “It would be improper…”

“Improper?” you echoed, arching an eyebrow. “Since when has that stopped you from seeking what you want?”

Your words left him momentarily speechless, and you could see the war playing out behind his golden eyes. Finally, he drew in a sharp breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “You.”

You closed the remaining distance, your hands finding the lapels of his coat as you pulled him toward the chair at the center of the room. “Sit,” you commanded softly, your tone leaving no room for argument. He obeyed, his movements almost mechanical as he lowered himself into the chair.

Hovering above him, you placed one knee between his legs, your weight barely pressing against him. The intimacy of the position made him tense, his hands gripping the armrests tightly as if anchoring himself. Leaning forward, your lips ghosted over his, your breath mingling with his as you spoke. “You could’ve just said you wanted my attention, Viktor. All this talk of ‘complexities’ wasn’t necessary.”

“I…” He swallowed hard, his hands twitching as though resisting the urge to touch you. “I did not want to—overstep.”

A soft chuckle escaped you as your fingers trailed up his jaw, tilting his face to meet yours. “And yet here we are," you murmured, brushing your lips against his in the faintest of touches.

The kiss deepened quickly, his restraint crumbling as his hands finally moved to rest on your hips. The heat between you was palpable, your bodies pressing closer as the tension that had been building for weeks finally erupted. Viktor's lips were fervent against yours, his usual precision and control giving way to raw need.

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your lips brushing against his ear. "You've been driving yourself mad over this, haven't you?"

"Yes," he admitted hoarsely, his voice heavy with desperation. "You... sure are intoxicating."

Your teeth grazed the shell of his ear, drawing a shiver from him as you whispered, "Then let me consume you."

His response was immediate, his hands tightening on your waist as though afraid you might disappear. You could feel his pulse racing beneath your fingertips as you cupped his face, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone. There was something beautiful about seeing him like this. Unguarded, vulnerable, and utterly at your mercy.

"You're trembling," you noted, your tone soft but teasing. "Are you nervous, Viktor?"

He managed a faint chuckle, though his voice betrayed him. "You have a way of... unbalancing me."

You smiled, your lips hovering just above his. "Good."

taglist. @xxblairslairxx @diffusebread @ekkosh @ash-84321 @luneariaa @minagrayson @aliives @mammonsleftring @gxrextxgaidk @anna1-1 @bl-0-ndi-3

banner. @anitalenia

[bibberly]

I was in eighth grade when it came out. I went with my mom, the little boys next door (who I babysat for frequently) and their mom to the theater. We didn't go to the theater often, so it was a big deal. But when we arrived, for reasons I can't remember, I got very bratty and decided I didn't want to go to a little kids' movie. I didn't usually act out in public, but I did that night and insisted on going to see a different movie by myself. It ended up being much longer, and when I came out, everyone was mad because they'd had to wait for me (and the kids were like 4 and 5 so this was not pleasant). I felt bad about what I'd done.

But what goes around comes around, because in high school I babysat for a different family, and the little boy in that household wanted to watch this movie repeatedly every time I came over. I have seen this movie more times than I can count as a result. He would start yelling it as soon as he saw me, and the way he pronounced it was so funny that I couldn't help but let him watch it every time. And then last year, I saw a high school theater department do the stage play / musical, and it was fantastic.

Can you guess which movie I got?

First off, click here.

The wheel just assigned you one of the Worldwide Box Office Winners from the past 35 years. (No 2024 because we don't know that winner, yet.)

[cherrygirlfriend]

touchy subject III pairing: reader x exfiancé!rafe synopsis: seeing your ex-fiancé after four years. warnings: angst and comfort. fluff. mentions of miscarriage/stillbirth and DUI. wc: 2.7k part 3 and the last part of touchy subject! click here for part 1, click here for part 2 i really liked writing for them and honestly i'm considering occasionally writing blurbs for them and what their relationship would shape into, lmk if you'd be interested!!

seeing you in front of that store felt like it might've killed rafe. the first face he fell in love with, the woman who'd left him with nothing but scars and an engagement ring. somehow, he still managed to stay alive.

but hearing you say his name in the soft voice he hadn't heard in over four years, the same one that you used to tell him you loved him every single night before your body went slack in his arms, that might have been the final blow.

"what are you doing here?" you managed to mutter, your hand instinctively going to your locket, squeezing it in your hand, and the gesture didn't go unnoticed by rafe.

"what's this?" rafe asked as the two of you laid in bed, his finger tracing the patterns on the heart-shaped locket resting on your chest, the one you'd worn around your neck for as long as he'd known you.

"this?" you asked, opening the locket, displaying two pictures; one of them was of you when you were a little girl, standing between your parents with a wide, toothy grin on your face, and the other was a picture of you and rafe, taken at midsummers. "i got this from my mom. it's a family heirloom of sorts. when she's born," you looked down at your stomach, "we've gotta get a picture taken of us three so i can put it here."

he let out a small chuckle, "i'm honored that you want me in your heart."

"i think you're always going to be in my heart," you rolled your eyes, "whether i want it or not."

"i'm here to see you. i thought that'd be obvious." rafe said without an ounce of emotion in his voice, the sound causing a shiver to run down your spine. grieving your daughter on what would've been her fifth birthday wasn't a moment you exactly wanted your ex to witness, but this was still rafe. the man you loved for so long, the only man you ever loved, the one you were going to marry, and this was still the house that was supposed to be your home.

so you stepped aside, pulling your cardigan closed as a way to close yourself off from the man as you walked further into the house, not daring yourself to look back at him, fearing the urge that still remained in your chest to just pull him close to you and be in his arms.

you heard the door close, pressing your eyes shut as you stood in front of the fireplace, your arms crossed in front of your chest as if defending yourself, the man's footsteps echoing in the room, "it's cold in here."

"the radiator's broken."

"can you just, at least look at me, or something?"

"do i have to?" you chuckled humorlessly, and when you felt his hand on your shoulder, it felt like the room got ten degrees colder, the man slowly turning you around to face him, and when you refused to look up at him, focusing on the baby blue sweater he was wearing, he brought his hand to your chin, gently lifting it up, just like he did every time he was about to kiss you.

"we need to talk."

if someone was to ask you what would be the most uncomfortable situation you had ever been in, this would be among the top 3, right after you got the 'birds and the bees' talk and the time you said your goodbyes to the same man now sitting beside you, the space between you two big enough to fit another person.

"why did you come back?" rafe asks, without even sparing you a glance. you decide to do the same, your gaze staying on the fire crackling in front of you.

"i don't know. a part of me thinks it's because i missed home."

"and the other part?"

missed us. missed her. "missed my mom, i guess."

your mother had driven you home from the hospital, insisting that she'd stay with you for the next few days; you still hadn't seen rafe. you couldn't face him, couldn't face the guilt you carried around for being the reason your daughter would be coming home in an urn.

she'd gone to the store for groceries, leaving you to sit on the couch you and rafe had picked out, staring at the engagement picture that hung above the fireplace.

you didn't know how it started, how every single vase ended up as nothing but shards of glass on the floor, how the coffee table had ended up as planks of wood, how your fists were bruised from beating them against the walls, your knees bloody from when you'd collapsed on the ground amongst all the glass.

"do you know what day it is?" rafe asked with a weak voice, and you could hear him try to swallow down the emotion crawling up his throat.

his question made you want to let out a small, humorless laugh. you don't know how you could ever forget. "of course." the day i killed her.

rafe stood up, running his hand over his chin before trailing over the short strands of hair on his head, "why did you do it?" he looked to you. "why did you leave?"

"i had no reason to stay." you say emotionlessly, your fingers intertwined as you kept your eyes on them as if you were praying.

"you had me. you would've had me if you just let me be there."

"rafe, i killed our daughter."

"what-"

"i'm the reason our daughter isn't here. i'm the reason she doesn't exist. i'm the reason that today isn't only her fifth birthday, but also the fifth anniversary of her death."

rafe kneeled down in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks, not caring if it made you uncomfortable, or that this was the first time he'd properly touched you in over four years, the only thing that mattered to him was that you listened.

"you did not kill our daughter."

"i did."

"no." he scoffed, "you aren't the reason she's dead. the reason is the drunken asshole who drove at you. you loved her with your entire being, with everything you had, even before she was born. you would've been the most amazing mother in the world. don't you dare blame yourself for something you had zero control over."

"i shouldn't have driven in that weather. i knew it was gonna be raining, that the roads would be slippery-"

"no." rafe said sternly, "look at me."

your eyes moved to look into rafe's steel-blue ones, shimmering with unshed tears, his jaw clenched, and only then did you realize that he was cupping your face in his hands, his touch somehow managing to make you feel warm even in the cold apartment.

"i won't have you blame yourself for something you had no fuckin' control over. evelyn was so wanted, by both of us. she would've been so loved. we would've done anything to protect her, and to keep her safe. if any fucker even thought about hurting her, i would've made sure they'd regret ever being born. but you are not to blame for her not being here."

rafe's hands moved from your cheeks to your hands, the man instead taking your clenched fists into his, letting out a small sniffle, and when he pressed his eyes closed and let out a sigh, a tear rolled down his cheek.

"yeah, you could've not driven in the rain. but i should've been the one to drive you to your mom's, you were eight months along, an insane man would make you drive yourself, or i should've made sure you got home before it was dark, or i should've picked you up myself. there are so many things we could've done differently, but that doesn't mean that either of us is to blame for it."

"i spent so long blaming myself for what happened, but not even for a moment did i blame you. you did everything to keep her safe, and i know it, and i'm sure that she knows it too. you loved her more than anything, and i won't let some drunk driving idiot make you feel like you did anything wrong."

slowly, you opened your fists, half-moon prints on the palms on your hands caused by your nails, and without even realizing, tears had been rolling down your eyes the entire time that rafe had been speaking, the man standing up and pressing a kiss on your forehead that felt like it burnt and would leave a mark that'd be there forever, before he settled down next to you.

a strand of hair was stuck on your cheek, almost glued on there by the tears you shed, the blonde man tugging it behind your ear, his eyes still on you, his hands still cupping yours.

"i don't blame you for what happened, nor do i blame you for pushing me away. but i wish you would've let me in, to be there for you, instead of leaving. so we could've grieved her together."

"i think we should break up, rafe."

"what?" rafe turned to look at you; this wasn't what he had been expecting to hear after two months of silence, "if this is about the baby-"

"i can't do it anymore." you closed your eyes, letting a tear run down your cheek, "i need to leave. start over."

you turned your head to look at him, his words feeling like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and even though you tried to find it, there was nothing in his eyes that said that he was lying.

"you don't blame me for any of it?"

your voice was weak and feeble, as if a part of you was expecting him to tell you that he did, but when he pulled you into his embrace, he told you the truth in the best way he knew how to: without saying a single word.

you didn't know how long you had been in rafe's arms; it felt like hours, while also feeling like the moment had lasted mere seconds, like you two lived in your own bubble. it felt like the last four years hadn't happened, like you had never left.

but when he pulled away from the embrace and looked down at his watch, letting out a sigh, you knew what was coming. the bubble burst.

"i should probably get going." rafe let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose before starting to get up off the couch, stretching his long limbs.

"yeah, yeah." you said softly, clearing your throat, trying to act like nothing had happened, like you hadn't gone through every memory you shared while he was just holding you to comfort you, "your girlfriend's probably waiting for you."

rafe stopped in his tracks, turning to look down at you, "girlfriend?"

"shit," you chuckle softly, fidgeting with your hands and chewing on your lower lip, "i guess she's your fiancée, now."

he sat down on the couch next to you while you simply avoided his gaze, not wanting him to read everything you were feeling like he so often seemed to do, but your attempt was unsuccessful, the man bringing his hand to your chin and gently turning your head so you were forced to look at him, his brows slightly furrowed while he looked at you pointedly.

"what girlfriend, or fiancée?"

you didn't know if rafe was acting stupid, or if he was genuinely confused, but you could still remember the woman with him at the jewelry store, the woman who had managed to make him smile, whose back rafe placed his hand on.

"you know," you clear your throat, taking his hand off your chin and turning your head away from him, not wanting him to see the tears brimming in your eyes as you thought about him waiting at the aisle for another woman, "the woman at the jewelry store."

rafe let out a soft laugh, and when you turned your head, facing him, he was nearly keeling over in laughter, his head in his hands.

"what?"

"that-" rafe said inbetween laughs, "that wasn't my girlfriend."

"what?" you mumbled softly, your brows furrowing, "what do you mean, rafe?"

"sorry-" he continued laughing for a while only to be stopped by a soft smack you delivered to his shoulder, before the man took a deep breath, looking at you with a small smile gracing his lips, a sight that still got your heart to flutter, "that wasn't my girlfriend, or my fiancée."

"then... who was she?"

"that was," rafe let out another chuckle as if you had said something foolish, taking one of your hands in his and intertwining your fingers, "wheezie's girlfriend."

you tried processing the words that had left his lips, but no matter what, they didn't seem to make since. "why were you in a jewelry store together? wheezie's only like-"

"wheezie's nineteen." rafe shook his head, "her girlfriend, lucy, asked me to help her pick out a ring. sarah was supposed to go with her, but she had some preschool stuff to deal with relating to jack, so i got stuck with that duty…"

"isn't nineteen a bit... young?"

"it is. but you remember how young we were when we got engaged? or sarah?" a fond smile took over rafe's lips as he turned to look at the fire that was slowly burning out, letting the next words out in a hushed tone. "guess it runs in the family."

"guess so." you say, biting down on your lip, turning to look at the fire with him, your cheeks warm as you felt like an idiot for your assumption.

"i still haven't moved on." rafe said, letting out a breath, "i don't know if i can. i don't think i even want to." you turned to look back at one another at the same time, both of you seeing the same melancholy in the other one's eyes, "there's no one i would ever want to be with other than you."

you took a deep breath, his words ringing through your head as you looked at him, a damp trail running down his cheek was still visible from the tears he had shed, and you took a deep breath, making a decision that you knew would impact the rest of your life.

"me neither, rafe."

you brought your hand to his cheek and felt the tear he had shed under your touch, pulling his face to meet yours until your lips clashed, feeling the exact same that it did four years ago, making you wonder how you ever let it go.

SIX MONTHS LATER...

you laid on a blanket in the middle of a field of sunflowers, your arms crossed behind your head and your eyes pressed closed, letting the sun beam down your face, warming you up as your bare feet were being tickled by blades of grass.

your daydreaming was interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and you opened one of your eyes to see rafe stumble through the long flowers into the small clearing you'd found, a small chuckle leaving your lips.

"don't laugh at me." he scolded, shaking his head as he landed on the blanket next to you, letting out a soft grunt.

"why not?" you asked, sticking your tongue out at him, your boyfriend gasping in feigned offence, about to quip back at you, only to be stopped by the small, chaste peck you pressed on his lips, even the small display of affection managing to leave him speechless.

as he settled down next to you, you smiled while looking up at the sky, white clouds covering a part of the beautiful icy blue nothingness that was so much like rafe's eyes, your thoughts on her. you took rafe's hand in yours, keeping your eyes trained up while you let yourselves just exist together.

"you're always going to be in my heart, evelyn louise cameron." you said softly as you traced the patterns on your locket, rafe turning his head to look at you, a somber expression on his face as he pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"yeah, she will. and neither of us will ever forget her."

[writingwithciara]

could be -jack hughes-

summary: y/n and jack are as inseparable as real best friends should be. so much so that even though they're not dating, she is considered a 'wag' anyway

word count: 4.6k

pairing: jack hughes x reader

notes: jack is just precious and so wholesome istg.

masterlist

growing up, jack was always taught to treat women with respect. he was also told that he should pay special attention to the girl in his life that meant the world to him.

and that's what he did with y/n. she was his best friend & had been since the 6th grade. ever since they met, they were completely inseparable.

even when jack went straight from high school to being a professional hockey player, y/n went with him. she figured she could take a gap year then enroll in school in jersey once she found one that was right for her.

it was obvious to everyone that their close friendship bordered on a real relationship but nobody could be bothered to bring it up. especially not when they saw how much they both cared about the friendship and would do nothing to jeopardize it.

jack's rookie season in the nhl was not as great as he expected it to be. he lost more games than he could count and felt like he wasn't living up to his full potential. but he was reminded every night when he came home that no matter how bad he played, he would always have his favorite girl cheering him on.

and given how close they were, most people had a feeling that something or someone would come along and cause a rift in their friendship. and when jack got his first girlfriend since going pro, they were all proven wrong. turns out that the girlfriend didn't like how close he and y/n had been and she gave him an ultimatum. of course he chose y/n, leading people to believe that there was definitely something going on between the pair.

and no matter how many times people put that idea out there, they always shut the thought down and insisted they were always going to be just friends.

but those closest to them knew that was most certainly not true.

everything they did was something an average couple would do. they could deny it all they wanted but it was clear they were destined to be together.

----------

"hey, y/n. are you coming to the game tonight?"

"do you want me to come?"

"always." jack smiled, but immediately became concerned when she didn't smile back. "of course i want you there. do you think i don't?"

"i was just messing with you, jack. of course i'll be there."

"okay good." he kissed the top of her head and smiled. "you almost gave me a heart attack. i can't play without you there."

"no need to worry, darling. i've never intentionally missed a game since the second half of your rookie season and i'm not going to start now."

"i know. i don't know why i thought you weren't coming tonight though."

"you'd miss me too much if i wasn't there." y/n smirked.

"you know me too well." jack chuckled and grabbed his gear. "i'm late for practice. but i'll for sure see you later tonight, right?"

"absolutely. wouldn't miss it." y/n walked with jack to the door. he looked at her bracelet and smiled.

"you're gonna need a whole new bracelet if we win tonight."

"you mean after you win tonight?" y/n smiled and moved the bracelet around. "who picks out the charm this time?"

"i believe it's jesper's turn again."

"oh, sweet. i love the charms he picks."

"what about mine?"

"i love them even more than jesper's. you know that."

"yeah, i know." jack smiled again and grabbed his keys. "alright. see you in a few hours."

"bye." y/n shut the door and examined her bracelet again. jack had bought it for her after he scored his first career goal and told her that every time his team won, he would buy her another charm because he considered her to be his personal good luck charm. after the 10th win, his teammates started taking turns picking out the charms, as they not only believed that y/n was jack's good luck charm, but theirs as well. they never lost when she attended a game so the belief stuck.

a few hours later, y/n grabbed her jack hughes jersey, put on her black jeans and slipped on her red converse. she threw her hair up in a messy bun and didn't bother with any makeup since she never really wore it much anyway.

before she got in the car, she sent a text to both jack and luke, wishing them good luck on the game. luke's reply was just a thumbs up while jack's reply was an entire paragraph. y/n left it open and drove to the arena. when she arrived, she put her phone in her purse, completely forgetting to respond to jack's text.

in the locker room, luke was finishing adjusting his skates when jack sat next to him.

"y/n left me on read, luke. do you think she's okay? what if something happened to her on the way here?"

"i'm sure she's fine. she's the most careful driver i know." he finished lacing the right skate and pulled the left one tighter. "have you tried calling?"

"no. we never call before games. it's a rule."

"you might have to break a rule every now and then."

"okay, fine." jack pulled his phone out and quickly dialed y/n's number. it went to voicemail and jack sighed. "right to voicemail, luke. this is not good."

"relax, jack. she probably just turned her phone to do not disturb so she could focus entirely on the game tonight."

"okay. maybe you're right." jack stood up. "thanks, bro."

"no problem." luke chuckled. "you gotta learn to never doubt me."

"yeah, yeah. whatever." jack rolled his eyes and grabbed his stick. "we got a game to win."

as the boys came out onto the ice, y/n's gaze immediately landed on jack. he looked at her and smiled, thankful that nothing happened to her on the way to the game. he skated around and that's when the thought hit him.

she didn't respond to his pre-game text like she normally did.

the game went on like it normally would, but with jack distracted, he wasn't playing his best. y/n watched as jack took a hit at the end of 1st period. it never should've happened and she was beginning to worry.

she pulled out her phone and went to send him a text, knowing he was gonna check his phone during the break. and that's when she realized she never replied to the paragraph he sent before the game. she felt guilty, as if she was the reason jack was having a bad game.

she typed as fast as her fingers could go, rattling off an extra long apology text, hoping it would make up for earlier.

and when jack was back out on the ice for the second period, he seemed to be playing a lot better than before. the text seemed to have worked.

halfway through the last period, the devils were up by 2. as jack scored, he turned to look at y/n. when he saw her, he smiled.

he was distracted and the other team knew it. so they took this opportunity to slam him in the boards as hard as possible, taking jack out for the last 10 minutes of the game.

as the ref escorted jack off the ice, y/n hurried out of her seat and down to the tunnel. she rushed to the medic's office and watched as he did his routine checkup on jack. when he was finished, he turned to y/n.

"take good care of this one. he's showing signs of a possible concussion and he may be out for a game or two. we have to make sure he'll be okay."

"don't worry. i'll make sure he's fine." y/n smiled as the medic walked out of the room.

"that was a terrible game." jack shook his head slowly. "i screwed up."

"no you didn't, jack. you played great." y/n squeezed his shoulder softly and smiled.

"you and i both know i didn't. i was a mess in the first half of the game and-"

"i know. it was my fault. i should've answered your text."

"what? no. that's not why i wasn't focused. okay well maybe a bit. but i wasn't mad. i was scared. the last text i got from you before the game was that you were on your way here. and when you didn't reply to my text, i thought something bad happened to you. i wouldn't know what to do without you."

"don't worry. i'm right here."

"good." jack looked up at her and smiled. neither of them knew why they began to lean in but when their lips were about to touch, luke walked into the room, causing them both to jump apart. luckily luke didn't see anything.

"hey. we won the game but i wanted to come see you. how are you doing?"

"i'm alright. might have a concussion and may have to sit out for a game or two. but i'm fine."

"do you need me to stay tonight and keep an eye on you?"

"no thanks, luke. i appreciate the offer but y/n is gonna be there. she lives with me, remember?"

"right. are you sure there's not another reason she's living with you? like, say, maybe you guys are more than friends?" luke raised his eyebrow.

"oh yeah. i sleep with jack every night and he's sooo good. and oh my god. the size is just-" y/n smirked when luke interrupted her.

"i was kidding. i really didn't need to know any details. gross." he shook his head and left the room. jack couldn't help ut laugh at his brothers reaction.

"you know he's gonna tell the rest of the team, right?"

"let them believe what they want. only we know the truth." she winked at him and grabbed his stuff. "now let's get going. i hear my bed calling me."

"you're so dramatic." he chuckled and followed his best friend out to her car. "it's a good thing i got a ride here with luke this morning."

"yes it is. now you can be my little passenger princess this time, instead of the other way around."

"ha. ha. very funny."

"i know i am." y/n smiled and started driving back to their apartment. "how's the head feeling?"

"little rough. but i'll be fine, i promise. you don't need to worry." jack reached over the center console and squeezed her leg gently.

"i always worry about you." y/n kept her eyes on the road but when jack moved his hand, she felt like her leg was on fire.

"i know. and i appreciate it. a lot." jack smiled and got out of the car when she parked. he hurried over to her door and opened it for her.

"thanks, jack. but i could've done that on my own."

"i'm showing my appreciation."

"jack, there are other ways to show your appreciation." y/n smiled and walked to their door. jack was frozen in his spot as he watched her walk inside. before the door shut, he rushed in behind her.

"hold up. just wait a second." he sat down on the couch and looked at y/n. "what other ways can i show my appreciation?"

"by getting me a new charm for my bracelet since your team won." y/n smirked. "did you think i meant something else?"

"what? no. of course not." jack shook his head rapidly, causing y/n to continue smirking.

"oh my gosh. you totally did!"

"well, i kinda thought that we could talk about what almost happened back in the medic's office before luke walked in."

"jack, it was a slip up. heat of the moment situation. it never should've happened."

"it didn't happen. but i agree. heat of the moment." jack sighed and looked at her. "you're my best friend and i love you. but what didn't happen is not going to change us, right?"

"of course not." y/n smiled and headed to her room. jack watched her close the door and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

it was going to change everything.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

over the course of the next few weeks, the dynamic between y/n and jack had shifted. everyone noticed immediately but it took jack and y/n a little longer to catch on.

it wasn't drastic enough where y/n felt like she had to move out. but she no longer felt like jack wanted to spend every minute with her like he normally had in the past.

his attitude changed and he slowly became less of the happy guy he always was, and more of a moody one instead. he was getting into fights more often than not & he was bringing girls home with him almost every night.

he would ignore y/n when she would greet him and each time he did, y/n felt like he was chipping away a piece of her heart. it was starting to become an issue for her and she didn't know what to do.

until an 'angel' knocked on the apartment door one afternoon.

y/n was home alone, getting ready for the last regular season game, when she heard the knock. she got up and looked through the peephole.

"nico? what are you doing here? shouldn't you be at the arena practicing for the big game?"

"i should be. but i think we need to talk."

"what about?" she held the door and looked at her friend. "what's going on? is everything okay?"

"with me? yeah. with jack? no."

"what do you mean?"

"you've noticed the changes recently, yes?"

"of course. i notice a lot." she shook her head. "what about his changes?"

"it's messing with his playing."

"meaning?"

"he used to be the best player on the team but for the last 4 weeks, he's been different. his points haven't gone up and his skill level has declined. he still ranks fairly high in the league but it's nowhere near where he deserves to be." he sighed. "i need to know what happened between you guys."

"why do you assume something happened?"

"because i know you guys better than you think i do. and the dynamic between you has shifted since he got the concussion a month ago. so what happened? did jack say something to upset you, or vice versa?"

"no. at least, i don't think so. and to be honest, i have no idea what really happened. the night he got the concussion, we came home and things were fine. but when i woke up the next morning, it was like the jack hughes i know and love was replaced by someone else."

"so jack is the only one to know why he's been acting so weird?"

"i guess so." y/n looked at her phone. "you should get going. the team's gonna need their captain before the game."

"yeah, you're right." he went to walk away but stopped. "are you coming to the game?"

"yeah. i'll be there. there's just something i need to do first. see you later." she shut the door slowly and walked into jack's room. it looked pretty much like it always did. it was a little bit messier than normal but that's how jack tended to keep it.

as she was about to walk out, she saw a gift on the floor by his bed. there was a tag attached to it that had her name printed neatly on it in jack's handwriting. she picked it up and took it with her to the car. she needed an explanation and was determined to get one, even if jack didn't want to give it to her.

when she parked at the arena, she climbed out of her car and ran inside quickly. there was still a little while before the game started but the fans were already filing into their seats. the team was skating around the ice doing their warm ups but jack was nowhere to be found. and neither was nico.

y/n was about to send nico a text, telling him she had arrived, but when she looked up, jack and nico were skating onto the ice. nico waved when he noticed her but jack hadn't seen her yet so she would have to wait to talk to him.

the first half of the game was brutal for the devils. they were down by 3 at the end of the second period, not having scored a single goal yet, and they were looking at a complete shutout,

y/n watched the team skate off the ice and sent a text to nico, letting him know she was on her way down to the locker rom to talk to jack. she couldn't wait another second.

as she got to the room, the rest of the team was walking out slowly. nico was last and he stopped her.

"um, just a heads up but he's not in a great mood and he's blaming himself for what's happened so far in the game. hopefully you can work your magic on him like you always do."

"yeah, hopefully. good luck out there." she smiled and stood in the doorway to the locker room. jack was pacing back and forth with his head down so he didn't notice her and he was mumbling to himself. she knocked lightly on the door to get his attention. "jack?"

"huh?" his head shot up and they made eye contact. "w-what are you doing here?"

"i came to see my best friend play kick some ass and make it to the playoffs tonight."

"that's not gonna happen so you can go home if you want. i don't want to disappoint you when we lose."

"you're not going to lose, jack." she took a step into the room and the air felt thick.

"we haven't scored once this game and there's 20 minutes left. i highly doubt we're coming back from this." he shook his head. "and it's all my fault."

"no it's not. it's a team game, jack. it doesn't depend on just one person. you know that."

"if i hadn't played so badly this last month, we'd already be guaranteed a playoff spot. but this game is the make or break one."

"what's gotten into you? where's the best friend who is always full of spirit and determination? the one who never wants to give up, no matter how hard a task may be?"

"he's a total mess who can't get his shit together. he's lost hope for a lot of things in his life and he doesn't know how to get back to his normal self again."

"when did things change?" y/n took a seat beside him on the bench. "was it before or after the concussion?"

"the same night." he sighed. "i felt the change after we got home."

"was it something i did that maybe upset you?" y/n looked at him but he didn't answer. "jack, please talk to me. i want to help you in anyway that i can."

"do you really think that our almost kiss was just a slip up? a heat of the moment thing?"

"what?"

"just tell me the truth, please?"

"i've known you since the 6th grade and not once did i ever think about kissing you. you've been my best friend since i met you so yeah. it was a heat of the moment thing." y/n looked up to find jack staring at her.

"i feel the same way. or at least i thought i did." he sighed. "i had never thought about kissing you before and have had no romantic feelings towards you since we became friends. but that night, when you didn't answer my pre-game text, i was scared something happened to you. and you already know that. but as i was freaking out, i started thinking about why i was reacting that way. i realized that i never wanted to experience life without you. and then when i saw you and saw that you were alright, my heart nearly exploded with happiness. i thought i lost you but you were there, in front of me, and these brand new feelings became overwhelming for me." jack took another breath. "that night when you told me it was a slip up, it hit me that you didn't feel the same way about me. so i started giving you space because it felt like what was best and i realize now that it was a mistake to do that. because without you by my side, i fell apart real fast. i screwed up by almost kissing you and if it was possible, i would turn back time and stop myself. i never intended for things to end up this way. and i am so sorry i disappointed you."

"you could never disappoint me, jack. you're my favorite person in the entire world. and yes, i thought it was a slip up that night because i had never thought about kissing you before. but when you were giving me that 'space', it gave me time to think about what almost happened and i have come to the realization that it wasn't a heat of the moment situation. i realized that i can't live my life without you. truthfully, i love you jack. i never really thought about it before but now i know."

"so all that space was a dumb idea, huh?"

"of course, dummy. but maybe things can be different now. we can get back to how things were before the concussion." y/n took his hand. "but with an added bonus of love."

"that sounds like a good idea." he went to kiss her but she stopped him.

"wait. i almost forgot the main reason i cam back here."

"what's that?"

"i found this in your room." she pulled the gift out from her purse and handed it to him. he turned it around in his hands and smiled. "what is it?"

"as ridiculous as this might sound, it's a book." he let out a chuckle.

"a book?"

"yeah. but not just any book." he smiled. "this book is special and i was intending to give it to you for your birthday but i didn't know if things would be back to normal or not." he looked up at her. "go ahead. open it."

y/n carefully unwrapped the book and stared at the cover. a little cartoon version of herself with jack stared up at her with the title my best friend written in shiny silver letters. she flipped through the book and smiled with every page she read. it was a story book of her life, before and after she met jack. it was illustrated so perfectly and each hidden detail throughout the book made her eyes water. "jack , i love this so much."

"i figured you would. but i'm glad you do." he looked at her. "did you see what was taped to the back cover?"

"no." she flipped to the back cover and taped to the inside was a little swan charm. y/n carefully pulled it off and smiled. "seriously, jack. you didn't have to do this."

"well i wanted to. i needed to show you how much you mean to me but with everything you've ever done for me, the book and the charm are not going to be enough."

"jack, they're more than enough. they're perfect." she looked at him. "you're perfect."

neither of them hesitated to place their lips together. they fit perfectly together, just like everyone knew they would. jack held y/n's face as he deepened the kiss. her hands held his wrists as they slowly pulled apart.

"okay, my team is waiting for me. i've got a game to win." he stood up quickly. "i love you."

"i love you too. now go out there before they start to worry." y/n laughed as jack rushed out to the ice. she slid the book back in her purse and made her way back to her seat just in time for the final period to start.

30 seconds in, jack scored a goal and the fans went nuts. his teammates all hugged him and nico looked up to where y/n was sitting, knowing she really did work her magic on him.

there was 5 minutes left in the game when nico passed the puck to jack, who scored another goal, putting the game at 3-2 for nashville.

with 2 minutes left, it was looking like they were going to lose. but luck must've been on their side because curtis somehow got the puck to jack. he took it and sped down to the other end of the rink, shooting it right into the net to tie the game.

and when the buzzer went off to signal the end of the game, everyone on the team was excited. they were congratulating jack as they made their way to the bench.

"whatever you're doing, keep it up. that was an excellent third period." curtis high-fived him and walked down the tunnel. both jack and nico shared a look and their eyes went to y/n in the stands. she waved to them and they smiled.

"she must've worked her magic real hard on you to get such a turn around like that."

"yeah. something like that." jack smirked and took a drink from his water bottle before spraying some down the back and front of his jersey. he knew he was a great player but even he was impressed with how fast he shifted the game.

overtime started not long after their conversation and even though nashville was playing hard, new jersey was playing harder. their team dynamic was so much stronger than it was before.

with the clock ticking down and jack with the puck, the win was in sight. but the nashville players were not letting it go that easily. all the players on the ice chased jack and nearly cornered him. one slammed him into the side, causing him to lose his balance and fall. they all looked for the puck, believing that he would've given up the possession when he hit the ice.

but he did that before he went down. he passed the puck to jesper, who was not being defended. luckily nobody saw that pass. jesper took off back towards the nashville net and hit the puck as hard as he could, sending it flying towards the goal.

everyone watched with baited breath as the puck moved faster and faster towards the net. when it hit the back and the buzzer went off, everyone cheered. the devils were going to the playoffs.

y/n made her way down to the tunnel to wait for the team. nico had a feeling that's what she would be doing so he made sure jack was at the end of the line.

as they passed by, y/n congratulated the guys on the big win and continued to wait for jack. when she saw him, she couldn't help but throw herself into his arms. he was shocked but he held her tightly.

"that was incredible, jack. i told you you were going to win."

"i couldn't have done it without you and our talk."

"well, you could've. but i'm gonna take the credit where i can get it." she smiled. "go get changed so we can go home and celebrate."

"yes ma'am."

things were going to be okay. they were gonna make sure of it.

[hitomisuzuya]

hi again suzu !!! could you do like really mean and harsh smut with obsessed scaramouche who kidnaps reader; and reader is actually obsessed with him aswell; if that makes sense 😞

you can make it kinky too; but that’s completely your choice!

- 🎧

yandere!scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. obsessive/possessive behavior. kidnap. drugging. blowjob. harsh degradation. degrading praise. creampie. mean!scara. if any of these themes make you uncomfortable, DNI.

scara really enjoys himself in this 😳

today was the day. scaramouche knew today was the day. the world was encroaching too much, too fast around you. because you are so strong, it would be too much for you. that's exactly why you need him to protect you.

life wasn't going to dig it's hideous claws into you like it had done to him. he absolutely wasn't going to let that happen.

he has everything all prepared, even a new bed with a soft mattress and softer pillows. various things that would make you happy and comfortable. it was easy for him to acquire the sedative he would use, which is also something he considered carefully. something mellow and soft that would make you instantly drowsy and fall right to sleep. you wouldn't feel a thing.

scaramouche knew your schedule inside and out. you didn't have any idea he was following right behind you the entire time, having made promises to meet up for a date later. you, being so easily trusting of him, would walk right into his plans.

you are just way too kind. way too naive. far too sweet. all too much for your own good. but that is okay. he is here now.

absolutely nothing would go wrong. he would successfully retrieve you, and snatch you up away from the world. keep you hidden and at his side. where you belong. after all, you already look at him with such devotion, love and adoration.

he swooped in the moment you inevitably stopped walking to check your phone. you'd been keeping such an eye on the weather all day.

your breath hitched in your throat, startled as scaramouche came up behind you. "ssh, it's okay," he cooed, gently cupping a hand over your mouth, "you won't feel a thing, i promise. this is for your own good," your eyes widened a little feeling the pin prick on your neck, but you didn't panic. you'd heard the sound of scaramouche's voice, that let you know not to be scared.

he shivered seeing your body relax even before he sedated you. you trusted him that much that he didn't scare you. you really are amazing. he picked up as you slumped against him.

that was how you ended up on your knees, naked in front him, his hand stroking your hair lovingly before grasping it firmly. "go on, slut. use that pretty mouth of yours to tell me what you told me shortly after you woke up," he narrowed his eyes in a glare down at you, sending a shiver straight to your throbbing clit.

he brought your mouth close to his cock. you look up at him so sweetly, your soft little tongue darting out to kitten lick the head of his leaking cock. "you are all i ever think about, scara," he groaned softly as your tongue danced on the precum gathering in his slit.

incidentally, scaramouche only asked you to repeat yourself. it was you who insisted on sucking and licking his cock while you elaborated. it made his ego stretch as much as his cock aches. "i love you. my heart only ever belonged to you. i didn't want to give it to anyone else but you," you continued, wrapping your hand around his cock, pumping your hand as you scooped his cock head into your mouth to suck on.

scaramouche moaned, his cock pulsing on your velvety warm tongue. he pushed your mouth down onto his cock. "good girl, you know your place. on your knees. sucking my cock like a fucking slut," you muffled a moan on his cock, sucking obediently as pumped his thick length in and out of your mouth.

fuck you look so breathtaking, drool pooling from the corners of your mouth while he ruined your throat. "you look adorable with my cock stuffed in your mouth. i can fucking feel your throat enjoying me," his hand tightened on your hair, holding your head in place.

he let out a loud, husky moan as he pushed his cock into your throat. you coughed, your throat convulsing and spasming in a heavenly way on his cock. "as good as using your throat feels, it would be such a shame to not cum inside you first," he took your mouth off his cock, enjoying the way you were submitting and letting him essentially manhandle you.

the look in your eyes only deepened with further adoration for him.

"on the bed, and spread your legs," he commanded, his cock straining harder watching you spread your legs, your little fingers parting your folds for him. he feasted his eyes on your creamy cunt, all his for the taking.

crawling on top of you, scaramouche wasted no time putting his cock between your drooling folds. he slowly grinded his cock over your clit, hissing in pleasure feeling your juices soak his length.

you mewled, your legs shaking and your hips rocking up to grind back against him. "please, i am begging you to stretch me apart," you pleaded, spreading your legs more.

"needy, pathetic whore," he hissed, adruptly bullying his cock inside of you. "you are all mine," he bottomed out all at once, tearing the sweetest cry of pleasure from you. "do you understand?" his cock was shiny with your slick as he pulled halfway out of you.

he wanted to fuck his cock back inside of you at the exact moment you said you understood.

"i'm all yours, scara!" you cried out, your hips jerking up to help him fuck his cock deep back inside of you. your walls clenched tight from his harsh degradation, your cheeks flushed as you squirmed with need.

need that was all for him.

scaramouche lost control then.

he possessively held you down, his hips smacking into yours. his grip was bruising on your thighs as he held them apart. you could barely keep up with the intense pleasure of his cock driving into your sweet spot. your fingers shook as you reached down to rub your throbbing clit, your ministrations tinging your shameless moans with whimpers.

"what a whore. what a good girl," he groaned, his cock on the cusps of emptying inside of you. the wet warmth of your pussy sucking him in was almost too much for him. "fall apart faster for me," his eyes followed the motion of your hand on your clit.

you shook underneath him, your orgasm washing over you in dizzying proportions. scaramouche couldn't get enough of your cries of pleasure while you creamed on his cock.

"keep crying just like that for me," his cock squelched wetter in and out of your pussy, ribboning ropes of cum inside of you. you wrapped a leg around him, happy to let him fuck his cock deeper into you as he chased his high.

[multipleoccupancy]

Pleased that the change in topic and indeed the choice seemed to have been a good one, Theo was glad to see her smile. "You can invite whoever you want," he encouraged and knew she would be sensible. He wasn't sure about letting Heather stay over in case something happened to Violet in her sleep but he didn't mention that and would allow it if Violet asked.

"We can go for a meal somewhere too if you wanted?" He suggested, wanting to let her focus on what to do for the day rather than what had happened the last week or so. "Or if there's somewhere you want to go in the morning or after skating? No exhibits going on that you'd like to see?" He checked though in the back of his mind he wondered if he would be alright being out by that point. He hoped so, it was a few weeks away, it wouldn't do him much good to be trapped inside until then.

"And of course most important," he insisted though he was still a little stiff in his chair the warmth and energy were as if he might have leaned forward with a conspirator whisper if he were in the right mind, "what sort of cake do you want?"

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Relieved that her dad was not leaving her room, Violet relaxed on her bed, wrapping the blanket a little bit tighter over her shoulders. She could see how he checked the door, unsure if he was worried about Hounds, or if he somehow thought the orderlies could walk into the room. She didn't dare ask.

Her birthday. Violet had forgotten all about it. In a few weeks, she would turn 15. She had turned 15 already, but that was in another timeline. It kind of made her head hurt when she tried to make sense of it. Was she 15 or 14, then? Had this time passed or not? Best not to think about it too much.

"Yes, I do," she replied with a smile. She hadn't gone rollerskating in a while, and it would make for a fun afternoon. And... surely her dad would feel better by then. Right? "Can I invite Heather?" Violet didn't have too many friends at school, the only friend she really cared to invite was Heather.

[beloveds-embrace]

Can we get that dark version of graves 💀. Sorry no hate to him but I like how this men operates lowkey like mafia in the dukedom au. Also is Konig still her personal guard in the regular au?

In the regular au, no, I don’t have König for her in there lol fyi i wrote this while spaced out during a lecture im sorry if it sounds rushed lol 😭

Referenced post

As for Graves: god, he is so smug. So, so smug, arrogance and pride growing each second he spends with you and over you. It shows in his gait when he walks, when he begins lording over the other servants and staff, when he begins latching to you, joining you on your free time when he checks beforehand that no one else is there with you. All of this even before you tell John your request.

After you do, and after you insist you really do want Graves, he becomes almost like a blown up balloon. He wants to monopolize all your time, all your interactions, and why would you say no when he gives you the love and affection you long for?

You don’t say no; but the same can’t be said for them.

It doesn’t matter if Graves truly loves you back. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t love you and only wants to desperately hold on to his one chance of rising in society. Nothing about Graves really matters to them except how to break his connection to you.

Graves thinks that the reason the rest of the staff slowly begin to distance themselves from him, ill-mannered towards him in general, is out of jealousy due to his closeness to you. He thinks that the reason John adds more stable hands is because you want to have others help him and who he can lord over. He thinks the reason bland and spoiled food he gets is because the cook is jealous of him, as well. Who wouldn’t be, knowing it’s only him who has your affection?

He thinks everything is done for him, due to you. It makes him latch all the more to you, and you love it even if you sometimes look confused by it.

When you send him a letter, askinh to meet him privately late at night in the woods behind the duchy, it’s the first time he’s considered saying no to you. But as it is, Graves thinks you are a spoiled thing, born with a silver spoon, and he doesn’t want to spoil his standing with you. The woods behind the duchy are a bit… unconventional. He’s heard rumors of servants sometimes dying in there, a long time ago, but there was no solid evidence of it ever.

Whatever it is, he can deal with it. His confidence builds when Kyle greets him formally, a little smile on his lips compared to the previous days. The food he’s presented with is delicious and warm, and Duke Riley even gives him a nod when passing by him. He gets called into John’s office to talk about a payrise, as well.

Everything’s well. Going into the woods, therefore, shouldn’t be a problem.

It shouldn’t have been a problem.

Stumbling through the dark woods in question, cradling his bleeding leg, Graves begins to realize that he’s made a horrific misjudgment.

Why would you, of all people, want to meet here? You, soft and delicate? You, who has never known what it feels like to have a single scratch on your body?

This place isn’t meant for you. You wouldn’t even consider this place.

You didn’t send him that letter.

And Graves is realizing it just now.

He lets out another pained shout when his foot catches onto a bear trap, falling forward. Hands and knees scratched, blood pooling under him, and covered with the dark canopy of the night sky with nothing to guide him except the dim light of the stars, Graves has never felt more hopeless.

The snapping of dead twigs and leaves, loud in the suffocating silence of the woods, makes his twist his neck to see-

Beasts. Snarling, deep dark beasts, gaping maws and rows of twisted, sharp teeth. They laugh and bark, snapping at him and there is nothing he can do to struggle back because the damned trap is still holding him down.

Behind those beasts, there is a figure. The eyes that peer at him in hatred are familiar, but Graves cannot recall their owner at this moment. Tall, blond hair, at the manor ever so often-

“You should not have touched what doesn’t belong to you, Graves.”

He is not granted enough time to think about how familiar the voice is.

And so, on a dark January night, Philip Graves disappears.

“Still no sign?” You ask, twisting your handkerchief between your hands again. Your days have been hard, lately, and grow harder the longer your lover remains missing. Though you aren’t even sure if he is truly missing. If he was, then how come the rest of the servants all said that they couldn’t find any of his personal belongings?

He had seemed so happy with you… you don’t understand.

“I’m afraid not,” Simon tells you softly, coming to stand beside you. He holds a hand out for you, and despite knowing it wouldn’t be proper, you do not stop him from drawing you into a hug. “The dogs didn’t find any traces of him, either.”

Your eyes move over to the two dogs curled on their respective pillows, one napping and the other chewing on a bone. You loved them; they were all over you the second Simon had brought them to you, rolling over to get stomach rubs from you. They provided a temporary retrieve from your dark and depressing thoughts, just simply holding them making you feel better.

“They are good hunters.” Simon had told you, his knuckles gently wiping away your tears. “If he is anywhere lost nearby, they will find him.”

But now, there wasn’t a trace of him. You hated to admit it, but perhaps Philip’s leave might have been his own choice…

“Do not cry.” Simon whispers softly when he hears you sniffling, arms warm around you. You melt against him, just clinging to this comfort. “John will still search, but you still have all of us to help you get through this, sweetheart.”

Get through this, and get over Graves. The rest of the staff all agreed that he wasn’t good for you, anyways, and the dogs had their fun.

And Simon now gets to hold and comfort you, after he’s already had quality time with the rest of his beloveds.

Your tears will dry, eventually, and your heart will open up again.

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 16

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 4.5k

Note : Only two chapters after this!! Honestly these last three chapter will be like an extended epilogue. Small flashbacks are indented! Please let me know if I miss anyone on the tags! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

"Take Your Shape"

Rebuilding with Yelena had been almost as difficult as rebuilding with Bucky—but for entirely different reasons. With Bucky, the wounds revolved around love. Despite everything, at least he was familiar— at least he still felt like home. 

With Yelena, the fracture was messier, harder to untangle. She was a friend, sure, but she wasn’t nearly as close to you now as she’d been before the memory loss. Everyone kept insisting you two were like sisters, and it drove you mad—not knowing what that actually felt like.

You’d seen glimpses of it, in the video Happy showed you. You saw the two of you laughing, hanging out at the compound, but it wasn't the same. Watching those moments felt like peering into someone else’s life, someone else’s memories with no idea how you got here.

How had you gotten so close, and yet so… distant?

The pang of betrayal still swirled in your chest; she hadn’t warned you, hadn’t given you the truth when you needed it, even after knowing how much it would shatter you. You had craved human connection in the hospital room— maybe that's why you let her stay. But now, with all that anger simmering beneath the surface, you needed much more time to process this alone, and as it turned out, it took much longer than you had expected.

For the next couple of days, you couldn’t get past the fact that the woman who had allegedly been like a sister to you had chosen to keep you unaware of the mountain of lies your boyfriend had built.

Friday.

The first step came one evening, when she showed up at your apartment unannounced. She was standing there, hands shoved into her pockets. A fire of emotion swirled within you— Sadness. Resentment. Hope. 

But above all, you found yourself missing her.

“Can we talk?” she asked, her voice quieter than usual.

You hesitated for a moment before stepping aside to let her in. Back in the hospital, when the truth had first come out, you hadn’t had the energy to argue. But here, in the privacy of your apartment, you did. What followed was a long conversation full of starts and stops, accusations and justifications.

“It wasn’t my decision to make,” Yelena said at one point, frustrated. You couldn’t tell if it was aimed at herself or at the situation.

Her words weren't an instant fix, but they planted a seed. Over the next few days, there were more conversations over training. You didn’t hold back your feelings, and to her credit, Yelena didn’t shut down, she didn’t deflect. She didn’t change the topic like she used to. Slowly, you began to see her choices not as malicious but as a misguided form of love manifesting from someone who had gone through so much. It’s poetic, really— how she was a platonic mirror of Bucky.

In the end, she just held back because she didn’t want to be the reason you were hurt. 

And now, knowing all you knew, you couldn’t hold it against her—just as you couldn’t hold a permanent grudge against Bucky. 

Friday, the next week.

The real turning point came when you introduced her to Alex. It hadn’t been part of any grand plan, just a chance encounter. 

You’d been out for coffee with Alex— catching up after the museum closed— when you spotted Yelena heading toward you on the street. There was a flicker of hesitation—a moment when you weren’t sure whether she’d stop or walk on by. But Alex, ever vigilant, recognised her from the photos you showed her and sensed your tension. So Alex, ever the diplomat, had stepped in with a warm smile, bridging the gap before it could grow too wide.

“Why don’t you join us?” Alex had offered.

Yelena hesitated, glancing at you, “I guess I could spare a minute,” she nodded.

A minute stretched into an hour. 

At first, Yelena sat stiffly, her words overly careful. But Alex had a way of breaking down walls without anyone realizing it was happening. She leaned into Yelena’s stories, genuinely interested. Alex laughed in all the right places, continued to moderate the conversation just when you thought it was ending.

Both you and Yelena began sharing training mishaps, laughing like old times again. In return, Alex shared stories of things that happened in the museum after you left, like the time she accidentally dropped a fossilized dinosaur tooth during a museum tour and had to convince the students it was a fake (she had broken it, of course).

After a while, you found yourself sitting back, sipping your coffee, watching them as though you were an outsider. There was something so gratifying about seeing Yelena, usually so guarded, taking a liking to a civilian friend of yours.

Later, as you and Alex walked back, she turned to face you.

“I can see why you keep Yelena around, after everything,” Alex said, “Though she’s a little... intense.”

“She’s the kind that grows on you,” you replied. For the first time in a while, you felt a sisterly warmth grow in your heart for the Russian.

This must be how it felt like the first time— when you joined the avengers and got close to her.

Alex nudged your shoulder playfully. “I like her.”

Thursday, the next week.

Much to your surprise, Yelena and Alex only grew closer from then on. 

Their friendship seemed effortless, almost as though they’d known each other for years. It reminded you of why you’d been drawn to Yelena in the first place: it was her wit, her stubborn charm that kept you both on edge.

Seeing Alex bring out that side of her so easily felt like watching two puzzle pieces click into place.

The weekly lunches at the diner soon became a ritual. The first time, Yelena had scrutinized the laminated menu with a dramatic sigh before declaring, “This place better not kill me.” Predictably, she’d found something to complain about. “The eggs are overcooked, the toast is cold, and the coffee tastes like dishwater.” She’d said it with such exaggerated disdain (in a thick Russian accent) that even Alex had giggled.

“I think it's charming” Alex had replied, which earned her one of Yelena’s rare, unguarded smiles.

After that, every Thursday, like clockwork, the three of you crammed into the same corner booth, under the same faded mural of a desert highway. Over time, those lunches became a refuge from whatever was going on that week— whether it was a mission gone wrong or some exhibition that needed long hours to set up. These days were always filled with teasing banter, long-winded stories, and the occasional vulnerable heart-to-heart conversation.

Slowly but surely, you could feel the cracks between you and Yelena mending, the tension that had once boiled over dissipating like sea foam. Forgiveness, you realised, wasn’t a singular event, but a collection of moments— of these moments.

Thursday, the next week. 

One Thursday, as the three of you stayed long after the plates had been cleared, Yelena leaned back in her seat, one arm draped over the backrest, suspiciously close to Alex’s shoulders. “You know,” she said, twirling her coffee spoon, “if I’d known Alex was this entertaining, I would’ve stolen her from you a long time ago.”

Alex tilted her head to look at her playfully. “I don’t think you could handle me full-time.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow. “You’re probably right.”

You rolled your eyes, a laugh slipping out.

That day, before going your separate ways, Yelena raised her coffee cup. “Here’s to second chances.”

You hesitated, a flicker of pride behind your eyes, before lifting your own cup. “To second chances,” you echoed, the clink of ceramic against ceramic feeling like a momentous occasion.

Thursday, two months later.

The chatter of the diner hummed around the three of you, a comforting backdrop of clinking plates, shuffling waitstaff, and the faint melody of Motown playing through the speakers

The tension that had once defined your interactions with Yelena, born from everything that had happened with Bucky, now seemed faded. In a way, it had been completely repaired by these weekly lunches.

Across the table, Alex was mid-story, her fork waving through the air as she recounted her new kitten’s latest reign of terror.

“And then she destroyed the blinds,” Alex said with a dramatic flourish she used in museum tours.

Yelena chuckled, her chin propped on her hand as she watched Alex with a mix of amusement and intrigue. Maybe even affection.

But sure enough, the lull in Alex’s story gave her the opening she needed. She turned to face you, tilting her head.

“So,” Yelena began, “what’s going on with you and Bucky?”

The shift in conversation was sudden, but you weren’t surprised. Yelena was nothing if not direct, and she had a way to steer the conversation in whichever way she pleased.

Alex’s eyebrows shot up, her fork freezing mid-air, curious. “Oh, good question,” she said eagerly. “You haven’t really talked about him much lately. Are you two… okay?” 

You hesitated, your fingers absently picking at the corner of your napkin as you considered how you should answer. “We’re… figuring it out,” you said finally. 

Yelena raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That’s vague,” she said, skeptical. “Try again.”

Surprising even yourself, you laughed, setting the napkin aside as you leaned back in your seat. “It’s just… complicated,” you insisted, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 

“Now that’s more interesting,” Yelena smiled softly. “Go on.”

Alex leaned in too, her elbows on the table. “Start from the beginning,” she said, grinning. 

You sighed, but there was no malice in it. “Fine,” you relented as your thoughts drifted to the past few months. 

“I told you about the dinner, right? The day I came home?”— they both nodded— “Well, the next day, he asked if he could come over for coffee. I almost said no—But… I agreed.”

Yelena made a soft, approving sound, “And?”

“And,” you continued, smiling faintly, “he showed up with two cups from that little café down my street. You know, the one with the crawling plants? We sat across the kitchen table, and it was like we were strangers on a first date. It was… weird, but not bad. We just talked. About music, about books, about how he wanted to start swimming more. It felt…” You trailed off, searching for the right word.

“Normal?” Alex offered, her tone gentle.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Normal.”

The knock at the door was soft, almost hesitant, like Bucky was giving you time to change your mind, to pretend you weren’t home anymore. For a moment, you just stared at the door.  You needed this. No, you wanted this.  You wanted him.  When you opened the door, you saw Bucky leaning on his heels with two coffee cups in his hands, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. His hair was tied back, and his leather jacket looked just a little too warm for the season. “Hey,” he said, offering a small, nervous smile as he held up the cups like a peace offering. “I, uh, I know you ran out of ground coffee at home so I got your favorite. Unless you don’t want your favourite. In which case—” “I want it,” you interrupted, an exhausted smile on your face, “Thank you, Bucky.” His shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Good. That’s good.” You stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. The air felt heavier inside, the awkwardness wrapping around you both like a scarf wrapped too tightly around your neck. Bucky followed you into the kitchen, setting the cups down on the table and pulling out a chair before glancing at yo. You sat down, gesturing for him to do the same. He slid into the chair across from you, his metal fingers tapping lightly on the edges of the table. For a moment, it was painfully quiet, the silence stretching long enough for the faint hum of the fridge to fill the room. You stared at the coffee cups, fiddling with the coasters. “Thank you,” he started, running a hand over his face. “For giving me a second chance.” You sipped your coffee, watching him over the rim of the cup. He was trying. You could see it in the way his fingers fidgeted, the way his eyes flickered up to meet yours and then darted away again— he was bracing for rejection. “You did ask nicely,” you said finally with a teasing chuckle, as if saying ‘you’re okay. You’re not crossing a line.’ The tension wasn’t gone, but you both had eased it last night.  He winced, unsure of what to make of your dry humour. “You brought coffee.” you offered a shy smile. “That’s something,” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Baby steps,” he said softly. As you settled back into your chair, the conversation began to flow. It was hesitant at first, but soon enough, you were talking about music, about the book you started reading when he left last night, about how he was thinking of taking up swimming again because, "it might be nice to feel weightless for a bit.” It felt… strange, but also familiar. It was the kind of moment you didn’t realize you needed until it was happening. And even all the awkwardness and the lingering edges of frustration, it felt normal. As you finished your coffee, you caught him glancing at you, the tiniest hint of a smile still playing on his lips. “What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Nothing,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “Just… thanks for letting me come over.”

Yelena leaned back. “So, he’s trying to win you back with caffeine and small talk?”

Your laugh came easier this time, the tension in your chest easing. “Something like that.”

Encouraged by their attention, you went on.

“There are still nights when he texts me late, confessing that he’s been pacing for hours, anxious about me— about us. At first, it scared me. I didn’t know how to help, didn’t know if I even could. But now…” You paused, gathering your thoughts. “Now I call him. I stay on the line. I let him talk, let him share pieces of himself he wouldn’t've told me otherwise. It’s hard to hear sometimes but it feels important. Like he’s finally trusting me.”

“And do you talk to him about… your stuff too?” Alex asked. 

You nodded, the memory of those late-night conversations blooming a warmth in your chest. “For the first time in a long time, I feel like I can. Vulnerability isn’t just a one-way street, and we’ve….we’re both still learning.”

One night, you were jolted awake by a string of text notifications. You checked— it was all from Bucky. I can’t sleep. Been pacing for hours.  Thinking too much. About you. About us. You’d stared at the screen, unsure what to say or do. With a deep breath, you decided to call him.  The phone rang once, then twice, before he picked up. His voice was rough, like he hadn’t used it in hours. “Hey.” “Hi,” you’d say softly, leaning back against your pillow. “Anxious again?” A small, self-deprecating chuckle would follow. “Yeah. Sorry. Did I wake you?” You lied. “No.” Then you let him talk. At first, it was fragmented—confessions spilling out in pieces. He’d talk about the nightmares, the way he sometimes felt like he didn’t deserve to be loved. “It’s like…” he’d say one night, voice cracking just enough to make your chest ache, “I keep waiting for the day you’re gonna wake up and realise I’m not worth it. That this—” a pause, a sharp inhale “—that I’m too much.” Your heart broke, but you didn’t interrupt. You’d learned not to. Instead, you stayed on the line, letting him speak until the silence between his words grew longer, like the storm in his head was finally passing. “Bucky,” you said when the quiet stretched too long. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that, right? I gave you a second chance because you’re worth it.” His voice, when it came, was barely above a whisper. “I’m trying to believe that.” And slowly, he was. Somewhere along the way, you started sharing your struggles too.  One night, you admitted, “I still feel guilty for not being able to remember. I— I feel like I’m never going to live up to the expectations that people have of me. Like I’m never going to be enough ever again.” Bucky had gone quiet, and for a moment you worried that you’d said too much. But then his voice came through, “You’re more than enough. I don’t know I’ve told you that recently, but you are.” That night, you cried after hanging up—not from sadness, but from the overwhelming joy of being heard. Your relationship wasn’t perfect. You both still stumbled, still had moments where the walls crept back up. But those late-night calls had become a lifeline, a place where both of you could be messy and imperfect and still… safe.

Alex’s eyes were thoughtful, Yelena’s lips pressing into a contemplative line.

You cleared your throat, “But it’s not all heavy, I promise. We’ve been going on more dates again— like walking through the city or grabbing dinner at places we used to love. He’s even started leaving little notes around my apartment. Cute stuff, like reminding me to take care of myself when he’s not there.”

This time around, dating Bucky was like rediscovering a book you used to love—familiar, comforting, but still filled with moments that could surprise you. The casual dates were your favourite. As you walked down the streets together, the bustling noise always felt muted. He always made a show of remembering little things—pointing out the bookstore where you’d once spent hours, or stopping by a food truck where you’d apparently eaten a ridiculous number of tacos one summer. You didn’t remember, of course, but you trusted him.  Dinner dates were no less charming. Bucky had a knack for choosing the right place—not too fancy, just enough character. “You deserve something better than just takeout,” he’d said once. You could see the effort in every small gesture: how he’d pick up your favourite dessert on the way back home, or how he made sure you had no training drills the next morning when he planned a late night. And then there were the notes. It came after the first month, when you gave him the spare key to your apartment again. The first one caught you off guard, a scribbled “Hey, don’t forget to eat lunch today” stuck to the fridge. You’d smiled, shaking your head, and tucked it into a drawer. But they kept coming. Little scraps of paper, each one carrying a piece of him—gentle reminders, sweet compliments, even terrible doodles that made you laugh until your sides hurt. One morning, after a particularly late mission, you’d found one stuck to your door: “Proud of you. Rest—you earned it.”

Yelena’s brow arched, intrigued.

“One morning,” you continued, the smile on your face growing, “I forgot my jacket, and he showed up at the training ground with it. Didn’t say much, just handed it over. He bought like four of my favourite chocolate bars and stuffed them in my pocket.”

It had been a long, cold morning at the training ground. You’d left in a rush, forgetting your coat. You mentioned it to Bucky when you ran into him in the kitchen that morning, beating yourself up mentally for being forgetful— a particularly touchy subject for you. It was just your luck that Clint had prepared to do outdoor training. You spent the first hour of drills shivering in the cold. You weren’t expecting him to show up—Bucky had been busy with his own schedule—but there he was, standing by the edge of the field with your jacket draped over his arm. He didn’t say much, just walked over, handed it to you, and nodded. But when you slipped it on, your hands brushed against something bulky in the pockets. Curious, you reached in and pulled out not one, but four of your favourite chocolate bars, the wrappers crinkling as you stared at him. “Thought you might need a pick-me-up,” he said casually, knowing how much forgetting had upset you. “Bucky…” you began, but he just shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets, as if to downplay the gesture. “Don't make a big deal out of it,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched in a small smile. But it was a big deal. Not because of the chocolates, not even the jacket, but because of the way you realised he truly cared. That night, when you found another note tucked into the chest pocket—“you’re enough, even when you forget”— you couldn’t stop smiling.

“That’s sweet,” Alex let out a small chuckle. “He’s really trying, isn’t he?”

“So am I,” you nodded, though your voice was quieter now.

Yelena hummed, finally breaking her silence. “Sounds like progress,” she said in approval, “Though I’m still surprised you haven’t kissed him yet,” Yelena remarked, leaning back in the booth, arms crossed like she owned the place.

“We’re taking our time,” you rolled your eyes. “I don’t want to rush into something just because it’s familiar.”

Yelena hummed, playfully scrutinizing. “Must be hard,” she said, her voice wrapped with faux sympathy. “Especially because he follows you around the compound with those big, stupid puppy dog eyes.”

Alex, who’d been happily munching on her toast, choked on a laugh. “Really?”

You scoffed, but your cheeks warmed ever so slightly. “We’re still rebuilding,” you replied, brushing off the teasing, pretending it didn’t hit closer to home than you wanted to admit.

Yelena’s eyebrows softened at your words, her sharp wit momentarily dulled by concern.“Speaking of your little ‘rebuilding phase’... let’s talk about this mission you’re going on with him tomorrow.”

Alex perked up immediately. “Mission? Oh, is this classified?” she teased, holding up her hands like she’d been caught eavesdropping. “Should I, like, cover my ears or something?”

“Relax, Alex,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Just a standard recon mission. Nothing exciting.”

Yelena stirred her coffee as if it had committed a crime. “What was Sam thinking? Pairing you two up now of all times? While you’re still… patching things up. He should’ve sent you with Torres instead. That guy’s boring enough—gets the job done, no drama.”

“Torres isn’t boring,” you protested, half-defensive, half-amused, knowing Sam would smack her upside in the head for talking about his friend that way. “He’s just… new, still a little shy. Give him a break.”

“Whatever,” Yelena waved her spoon dismissively. “He’d still be less of a potential disaster than you and Bucky.”

“We’re not a ‘disaster,’ Yelena,” you leaned forward, narrowing your eyes at her. “Besides, I think this mission is going to be good for us. Working together again… it’s what we need, it’s like testing a boundary together, y’know?”

Yelena raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue further, though you could tell from her expression she wasn’t entirely convinced.

But you didn’t need her to be. You were genuinely excited for this mission. It wasn’t just a test of trust—it was a step forward, a small chance to rediscover yourselves together. 

“Fine.” Yelena sighed, finally relenting. “But if you two screw it up, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’”

Alex shook her head at this mission talk. She wasn’t in this world, but she appreciated it. In time, she might even grow to understand it. But for now, she raised her coffee cup with a grin. “Here’s to testing boundaries!”

You clinked your cup against hers with a small laugh, stealing a glance at Yelena, whose smile had now returned. 

“To testing boundaries,” you said, more to yourself than anyone else.

The bell above the diner’s door chimed as Bucky stepped inside. You spotted him immediately, his broad shoulders framed by the doorway, his hair slightly tousled from the wind outside.

“Speak of the devil,” Yelena muttered under her breath, sipping her coffee. She had not even bothered lowering her voice.

Alex, ever the peacemaker, nudged Yelena with her elbow. “Play nice,” she whispered. Then, she turned toward Bucky with an exaggerated wave. “Hi, Bucky!”

You rolled your eyes at Alex’s enthusiasm, but you couldn’t help smiling as Bucky made his way over. 

“Hey,” he greeted the table, his voice low and warm, his eyes affectionately landing on you.

“Hey you,” you greeted softly.

Yelena leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. “Tin Man finally decided to grace us with his presence.”

Bucky smiled faintly, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he slid his hands out of his jacket pockets. “Nice to see you too, Yelena,” he replied evenly, his tone carrying just the right amount of dry humour.

Alex, clearly enjoying herself, leaned forward. “You know, for people who fought about what’s best for her for months, you two are surprisingly civil.”

Bucky gave Alex a polite smile, while Yelena groaned and gestured playfully. “Oh, please. I was always civil. He’s the one who—”

“Not here,” you cut in quickly, “We’re not doing this here.”

Yelena held up her hands in surrender. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll behave, besides,” she said with a knowing shrug, “I think Bucky’s here to steal you away from us.”

At that, Bucky finally looked into your eyes. “If that’s alright,” he said, his voice quiet but hopeful.

Before you could respond, Yelena waved her hand dismissively. “Fine. Borrow her. But bring her back in one piece, Barnes.”

You stood, smoothing the front of your shirt, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your chest as you slid out of the booth. “I’ll see both of you soon,” you said.

After waving a goodbye, Bucky held the door open for you, the chill of the wind pricking on your skin. 

He glanced at you hesitantly, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

“Hot chocolate?” You asked.

“Hot chocolate,” he confirmed, holding out a hand. It was a simple gesture, but something about it felt significant. His flesh hand—not the metal one—hovered in the space between you, waiting patiently. For a moment, you caught the faintest hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

Then you reached for him.

His hand was warm, his palm slightly rough against yours. When your fingers intertwined, it felt… solid. Right. Like the two of you were anchoring each other in the moment. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand. It wasn’t the first time you’d held hands with him, but it felt like the first time since everything— since the fractures, the distance. 

“Is this okay?” Bucky’s eyes softened, his lips curving into a small, private smile, one meant just for you. 

“It’s perfect.”

-to be continued...

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[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Shadow

Mingyu has a little fight with you.

Requested? Yes!

Word count: 1.2k

Genre: Angst, with a tiny bit of comfort and fluff

Mingyu watches you slam the car door behind you as you exit and he grits his teeth. You’re mad at him. Which is totally unfair because he should be mad at you.

And he is, so he doesn’t wait long before jumping out of the car and following you into the apartment building and into the elevator. He grinds his teeth a little more when you almost let the elevator door close before he can enter.

At the apartment door, you slam your key into the lock and twist violently. The door flings open and you both begin roughly putting away shoes and coats in tense silence.

You go to the kitchen and get a glass of water, and he sits down at the dining room table facing you, tugging at his tie to loosen it. “So that’s it?” He bites. “The silent treatment?”

You narrow your eyes at him over the edge of the glass. “You want me to say something? Right now?”

It’s spoken like a dare. A challenge of ‘you couldn’t handle what I want to say’. You should know better than to issue such a statement because the grinding in Mingyu’s jaw is becoming downright painful. “When have you ever not had something to say? So you might as well say it,” he insists, palm slapping onto the table.

You give him a long, harsh glare, before setting the glass down to cross your arms across your chest. You’re still dressed up, with your dress tight and plunging at the neckline. He’s so mad that he’s not that distracted by it, even though you looking like that is the whole reason you two are mad at each other now.

“You’re an ass,” you start. He rolls his eyes because you’ve called him that a thousand times. He waits for you to get to the good stuff. “You got temperamental and got us kicked out of our favorite club.”

“With good reason,” Mingyu rages, sitting up in his seat. “He was all over you. And you were letting him!”

“And that was reason enough to get in his face like that?” You counter hotly. “That was embarrassing, Mingyu. It’s a good thing we’ve been banned because I never want to show my face there again.”

“And it’s embarrassing to me for you to entertain anyone else like that,” Mingyu bites back, jumping from his seat. “He was touching you, whispering into your ear, asking you to go home with him, and you stood there and played coy and let him.”

“Mingyu, do you think he would have listened if I asked him to back off? Truly, think about it for a second,” you seethe. “I was trying to play it safe until you got back from the bathroom!”

“Then you make him back off. You don’t make me make him back off and then get mad at me for it,” Mingyu raises his voice, fueled by the fiery look you’re giving him.

“Nothing you did was discreet! You were practically lifting him by the collar. Where is the subtle ‘hey, babe. Who’s this?’ to get him to back off without violence?” He’s even more irritated at how you drop your tone to mimic him.

“I’m not going to be discreet when he’s touching you,” Mingyu snaps. “And you stood there and let him.”

“I told you, it was to be safe!” You cry out, angry tears pricking your eyes. “I knew you were coming back, I was waiting for you to come help me get away from him. And you did that tenfold.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs, heading toward the door again. “I can’t do this with you right now. I’m going to Wonwoo’s. Don’t wait up.”

You watch him shove his feet in his shoes again, slamming the door behind him.

~

It’s hours before Mingyu comes back. The apartment is dark and quiet, and he can still feel the tension hanging in the air from earlier. But now, the tension doesn’t make him angry. It makes him feel guilty.

Wonwoo had listened to a few of the bullet points of the fight and had interrupted to tell Mingyu he was in the wrong. He trusted Wonwoo, so when he opened his mouth to argue, something about Wonwoo’s look told him to shut up and listen. And he had, while Wonwoo set him straight on a few things.

He comes into the bedroom and can tell you’re still awake, even though your back is to him. He changes clothes and hangs by the foot of the bed for a few long seconds. “Can I stay in here or do you want me to go to the couch?” He asks weakly.

In the darkness, he can see your shoulders tense, before finally saying, “you can stay.” Your voice cracks roughly, a tell-tale sign that you’ve cried since he left. It tugs at his heart stings, but he climbs under the covers before you can change your mind. He lays on his side, staring at your back, eventually reaching out. Touch is a love language for both of you, but he still does it hesitantly just in case, hand gently landing on your arm, thumb rubbing your skin softly. “I’m sorry.” He hopes you hear how much be means it, but he’s still sad when you tense under his hand.

“For what?” You sniffle.

Mingyu sighs softly. “For losing my temper. For getting us kicked out. And for getting mad at you when you were really just concerned for your safety. I shouldn't have left you alone in the first place.”

You let a few long seconds tick by before you finally roll over. He can see more evidence of your crying in your red eyes. He reaches out to swipe a thumb underneath one. It’s dry now. A small reprieve.

“Do you trust me?”

Your question makes his eyes flare. “Of course, I do,” he says passionately. “I trust you more than anyone else.”

Your eyes are a little guarded. “And you know I’m yours, right? Just like I hope you’re mine?”

Mingyu nods enthusiastically, because possessive as it sounds, he wants to be yours and he wants you to be his. “Of course. That’s all that I want.”

“Then know I’m yours and protect me from creeps in a club,” you say simply. “I didn't want him to be near me at all, but I was nervous and just waiting for you to come back. Then you were nearly in a fistfight as soon as you found me.”

Mingyu frowns. “Yeah, maybe not my finest moment.”

This makes you giggle and the sound is so soothing that it makes him a little emotional. “Maybe not,” you agree. He scoots closer to you, arms folding around you while he buries his face into your neck. It becomes less of him holding you and more like you holding him and it makes you giggle again. “My big, tough, scary boyfriend is actually the biggest baby,” you mumble, running a hand through his hair.

It makes him giggle a little too. “Only for you.”

[beleester]

I love journaling RPGs and Hollow Knight, so I gave this one a whirl.

We're starting in an Abandoned Village, for that soulslike feel. Obstacles are Steep Cliffs, Angry Ghosts, and Breakable Palisades. Legend says that the villagers held off an invading army, with the help of a wandering spearmaster. It has 7 areas.

Area 1: Burned Gate. 5 enemies, no secret, 2 exits.

Area 2: Wrecked Gatehouse. 5 enemies guard an unblocked relic - a sturdy Guard's Shield. 2 exits.

Area 3: Village Street. 3 enemies, a blocked secret (treasure in a barricaded house), and 2 exits.

Area 4: Mineshaft Entrance. A friend! Also a blocked clue and 4 exits. One of those exits is to a new environment, the others lead to the last 3 locations in the village. But for now, let's hear what the survivor has to say.

The Old Miner cackles as he recognizes a foolish adventurer. Lots of people died for what's in that mine, but they never could keep it. Not even the lords with all their armies could. The ghosts are all that's left now.

Desire: Despite his bravado, he's clearly afraid. Maybe if you clear out the monsters from the nearby Miner's House to give him a safe place, he'll warm up to you enough to share more.

Task: If you insist on going down there, find out what happened to his grandson. The foolish boy ran deeper into the mines when the soldiers came close, and didn't come back.

Area 5: Miner's House. 4 enemies, a blocked clue (Miner's Diary in a locked chest), 3 exits (back to mines and to the last 2 areas)

I now have 11 XP (3 location, 5 areas, Miner's story and desire). Let's say we found bombs in the Miner's House, which let us open up the mineshaft and other breakable obstacles.

New location discovered: Glowing Mines. A cavern lit by multicolored glowing crystals. Obstacles are Flooded Tunnels, Unstable Magic, and Hungry Kobolds. It's unclear how the kobolds got into the mines - there must be other entrances. Rumor says that they're looting the place at the command of a great dragon deep underground. 5 areas.

I'm going to stop here. It plays pretty well, but there's only so many areas I can name in one sitting.

"Include one legend you've heard about it" is a great touch - it encourages you to come up with some big lore elements to build a story around.

Rolling for the number of occupants is pretty unremarkable, unless you roll a friend. One in four areas should have friends, so I found roughly the average number.

It would make more sense to put "Map it" after you roll the room's contents. That way you know what sort of area you're describing (e.g., a room with lots of exits might be a main plaza, a room with 1 exit and a treasure is a side room).

The feature I'd most want, if you ever try to expand this, is a way to generate boss encounters. Doesn't have to be a lot of detail, but they're such a defining feature of soulslikes and metroidvanias that it seems a shame to leave them out. Maybe fit them into the occupants roll somehow?

200 Word RPGs 2024

Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.

This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.

[beforetimes]

planning a modern/fame timebomb au in my head where jinx is a celebrity recovering from addiction after a public meltdown who's lost contact with most of the people she knew when pre-breakdown/pre-fame. and in completing her recovery program she reaches out to ekko to offer a direct apology for anything she might have said/might have happened in the depths of her addiction, but doesn't hear back from him.

following this she decides to go out and sign up for a program to help at-risk kids like herself—after reflecting in therapy and realizing that a lot of the issues that lead to her being in such a volatile state of mind was because of the lack of support she had in childhood when dealing with losing her family [haven't planned what would work as a stand-in for the powder factory explosion so lets skirt past that for now] she decides that she wants to be that support for other people that she didn't have herself, after spending about a year trying to get better.

basically, she signs up as a volunteer to this big brother/sister-esque outreach program after a few months of anonymously donating to see if she can help someone in person rather than continuing to isolate herself. which is where she meets isha, who immediately imprints on jinx and insists on following her around. and jinx, who is unused to being at the centre of someone's attention without larger expectations that come with her status as a celebrity attached as caveat, starts relaxing by the very nature of her interactions with isha not being as loaded as others. like, this is just a kid! she doesn't know about jinx's issues or how she freaked out and lost it on stage/on a set/made headlines before disappearing from the public eye and ending up here. all isha sees is someone with cool blue hair and nails she wants to try her hand at painting.

after a few months of building a rapport with isha through this community mentor program, jinx accidentally bumps into the last person she really expected to see here—ekko.

ekko is also very surprised to see her here, because the last time he saw her, she was freaking out on him because he wouldn't enable her self-destructive behaviour, their final and most explosive fight resulting in their subsequent falling out where jinx threw a lot of shit back in his face and he did the same and they decided not to contact each other. well, besides jinx's attempt at an apology, but he didn't reply to that.

he sees her here and they both freeze because, like? what do you even do in this situation? they haven't seen each other in a few years at this point, maybe two or three at the most. enough time that it feels so entirely awkward to even try to act like nothing happened while also knowing that it would be equally nerve-grating to try and acknowledge the history between them.

of course, this stand-off is interrupted by isha, who sees jinx frozen in the hall and immediately stomps over to drag her away because they had been working on a painting together that she's been waiting to finish all week.

and jinx eventually relaxes because ekko doesn't say anything and neither does she, even though she wants to know what he's doing here in the first place. but the day ends without any further interactions between the two.

eventually, after asking around, jinx learns that ekko was the one who set the program up a few years prior, a tentative friend in the program telling her that the community didn't really have a lot of resources on hand and that a lot of the program was personally financed by ekko and he did a lot of work to try and uplift the people and community without demanding financial support in return, like most state-funded programs tend to do.

jinx is just, like, in awe of the fact that this childhood friend grew up to do something so great before being overwhelmed with guilt over the fact that she had been so wrapped up in her own world that she hadn't even noticed.

of course, this doesn't really change things because they're still not talking to each other, but weeks pass and jinx feels like they've gotten into a steady pattern of avoiding each other.

what she doesn't know is that ekko has been subtly watching in on her and isha's little hang-out sessions and is just in awe that this girl who had only a few years ago been so unsure of herself and in so much pain had managed to heal to the point of being able to help someone else and make a good positive impact on isha's life in a program he created.

so, after a while, jinx gets a reply on that email she had sent him nearly a year ago where ekko just asks if she wants to meet for lunch. which she replies to, after a lot of back-and-forth, by saying yes absolutely.

and then the romance unfolds further from there, yadda yadda yadda. haven't decided how this will ultimately end or where vi will play a part or anyone else but i thought that the bare bones concept i had in mind was worth posting here.

in my head maybe ekko's second, scar would be a friend who had seen the majority of the fallout and would be warning him away in the background while ekko was sort of caught up in being both happy that jinx seemed to be doing better while also conflicted on whether or not he wanted to forgive her because their last fight was like, super nasty. awful stuff said

maybe if anyone has ideas for how vi / cait / anyone else could be worked in, you can leave that below?? none of this is super set in stone! just rambling. ^_^

[strwberri-milk]

hiii! can i request reader asking to take a break from the relationship with the lnds boys? <3

Zayne doesn't understand at all what he did wrong. His first instinct is to try and fix it, ask you to tell him what he's done and how he can be better. He clings desperately to the hope that you mean it - it's just a break. He knows he's been really busy at work but you've never told him you don't understand, in fact, you've been telling him that you're proud of how hard he works.

His instinct will always be to cater to you, so he's going to ignore the way his heart hurts at your request. He'll agree, tell you that it's fine and he understands even though he really doesn't. He finds himself constantly holding himself back from reaching out to you, waiting patiently until the day you come back to him.

He doesn't know how to react. He's angry, sure, but also he doesn't want to do anything that would run the risk of you ensuring things end permanently here. You don't really think he's responding when he just nods and tells you that if that's truly what you want, then he'll let you.

Underlining his words is the slightest anger you can barely recognise. He finds himself wanting to be immature, to bully you into telling him what the problem is. He's already asking you, telling you that he thought things were fine because you never told him otherwise. You'd have to promise him you're coming back, but even during your time apart he finds ways to see you. He might not be talking to you or seeming to make an active effort but you get the sense that someone is trying to keep you safe.

Rafayel flips between anger and desperation. He doesn't know whether to beg or scream at you for leaving him again. You thought that he'd pout, or he'd go off and sulk quietly but the look on his face is one you never thought he'd make. He wants to grab you, hold you and convince you never to go but he's furious that you could even fathom leaving him.

He ends up pushing you away, telling you that if that's really what you want then fine, go take your break away from him. He doesn't seem to care, his feelings burying themselves deep in his chest as a way to desperately hide the truth but he's waiting every day for you to show up at his door again.

Sylus seems aloof. He doesn't say anything, simply raising your brow and asking if you really think that's a good idea. You insist, telling him that things are fine you just need a breather. You thought he'd fight harder but he simply waves you off, telling you that if that's truly how you feel then you should just leave.

To the untrained eye it truly seems like he doesn't care but he's losing his mind, just a bit. He can't stop thinking about you, finding himself beating people with a bit more reckless abandon and taking on bigger risks. His mind reels, constantly trying to figure out what exactly it is he can do to bring you back to him.

[bisexualcharmanderenergy]

Claribel knew the curse was unbreakable. Okay, that wasn’t technically true. Technically, all magic that could be done could be undone; the trick was to make the condition of its undoing extremely difficult to achieve. The particular curse Claribel had placed, that no man would ever fall in love with Marina Kedar again, could only be undone upon the death of the dragon of Shadowpeak Mountain, and since that wasn’t going to happen for five hundred years, which was far longer than Marina, being a human, would live, the curse was for all intents and purposes unbreakable.

This would have been amazing and Claribel’s coven would have been praising her for a job well done… if only she hadn’t put the curse on Marina Kedar rather than Martina Kedar. Martina had absolutely deserved the curse, given her cruel habit of seducing young men, insisting they give up everything and everyone they cared about for her, and then abandoning them. Marina, on the other hand, was a genuinely lovely person who did not by any means deserve to be unloved for her entire life.

“I think you’re about to get your ass kicked,” Claribel’s raven familiar, Ferdinand, announced as he flew in her window. “Marina Kedar is riding into these woods, and she has a sword.”

“Fuck.” Claribel sighed. “I guess I’d better face the music. If she kills me, tell the rest of the coven what happened.”

“And not peck her eyes out?” Ferdinand looked at Claribel in disbelief.

“I just ruined her chances of a happy marriage,” Claribel pointed out. “If she wants to kill me, she is completely justified.”

Ferdinand’s retort was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Claribel spoke up as soon as she opened the door. “I know an apology isn’t going to cut it, but—“

“An apology? Are you kidding?” Marina Kedar stared at Claribel in shock. “I came here to thank you!”

“Thank me?” Claribel shook her head in disbelief. “I put a curse on you! No man can ever love you again!”

“Exactly!” Marina’s face spread in what was honestly the most beautiful smile Claribel had ever seen. “You saved me from all my annoying suitors! Do you know how annoying it is to have three different guys following you everywhere you go with flowers and terrible sonnets?”

“You don’t want to get married?” Claribel had never met a village maiden who didn’t want a husband.

“If I could marry another woman, maybe,” said Marina. “With our current laws, absolutely not.”

Claribel breathed a sigh of relief. “So you didn’t come here to kill me?”

“Of course not!” Marina shook her head vehemently. “Like I said, I came here to thank you. Now that I’m under this curse, my parents will never pressure me to pick a suitor again.”

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Claribel blurted out. She hadn’t exactly planned to say that, but she definitely didn’t regret it.

“I was just about to ask if I could treat you to dinner!” Marina smiled that gorgeous smile again. “I figured that’s the least I could do for the beautiful witch who just gave me the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“I’m making jambird stew tonight, but you can treat me tomorrow.” Claribel’s cheeks flushed as it occurred to her that Marina had just called her beautiful. “Sharing my dinner tonight is the least I can do for the beautiful maiden whose life I didn’t actually ruin.”

Marina did stay for dinner that night, and Claribel did go down to the village for dinner the next night, and two nights turned into many, many more.

Twelve years after Claribel first placed her curse, she and Marina became the first two women in the kingdom to marry each other instead of men.

A witch found out to her horror that she had somehow cursed the wrong person. Expecting retribution when the victim came knocking at her doorstep, she was surprised to find them rather pleased with the curse's effects.