#it's about as happy an ending for them as there could have been in a show as irreverent as this

[weaverreaver42]

She at least wasn't alone, having many others like her come into being soon after. Although none would be as close to your ward than the god of radiation. Each of them bonding over their doubts of any good they could bring to their creators. Every newly born god and goddess came into the world fearing themselves as being only meant for death and destruction, even if those two had the greatest doubts among the group. They did not have the luxury of being 'forced' into a role by humanity like you, their domains were FORGED for it.

Nonetheless, they grew, and they changed as all things inevitably do. Even the duo of deities you had soon grown attached to, who thought they were the sign of humanity's final end, discovered and accepted the unfortunate truth about humans.

"Humans always see something as a weapon, even when it can be so much more. Just like you, it will take time for them to realize their potential."

It was the advice you and your compatriots, all tasked with helping certain new gods of Man's creation find their way, had grown to recite nearly on command.

Mankind could be wrong about so many things, but the divine always know better. It was not too long at all that you all were proven right.

Explosives and Radiation: such specific concepts that became incomprehensibly versatile.

What was a spaceship, but shrapnel that refuses to break and an explosion that existed to push humanity farther? Just as fragments leave a grenade or a bullet leaves a gun, humanity left their home world, letting Gaia heal the damage she had accumulated before wiser people finally put their feet down. They expanded from their home, just as they did with their natural habitat. So long ago you lost track of the sparks, snuffing of flame, and the darkness that lasted until they relied on you once more. Keeping the night, cold, and hunger at bay had always been your purpose. That was when you were the only light they relied on, but those times are gone.

What is radiation, if not energy to harness for light and warmth the people come to need in their homes? Homes where fire could no longer follow. Colonies among stars that you had thought would be eternally out of reach.

It was so subtle at first. It was a tragedy, how none of you saw it coming until it all became too fast to indulge in the moments remaining. Humanity no longer needed you, nor did their progeny that you had come to call your kin. The new pantheon that would spread amongst the stars, the beings you had never realized were to replace you in a new age. They had grown far too soon, in your humble opinion.

Gods do not die, they have no need of an end. However, their rises and falls are inevitable- even yours.

Now your eons are simply spent watching as those you made ready to replace you built off of everything that came before. Idly staying nearby as they make something even grander still. In retrospect, how you feel now is most certainly what many generations of people no doubt felt. Happy to see those who came into the world lost and needing you to guide them. Content to know they have finally found their way. Privileged, that they chose to reciprocate and guide you how they can once the tables turned.

You had long wondered what value those little creatures saw in preserving and protecting those you viewed as little more than exhausted fuel. Yet here you were, just like the old and 'irrelevant' of their kind, happily accepting the results of your effort grow beyond you.

Mankind's Age of Fire has long since ended, the dark now something to be explored instead of feared. No longer are you a weapon to wield against the unknown, nor are you a bastion for their people huddle around at the day's end. You are not forgotten even after the end of your reign, and your light is still carried on by the very goddess who once couldn't see her own value. You are no longer needed, but still loved just as strongly. You are a relic of a bygone era, but even still they value what you were just as she valued what you did.

It is the Age of Advancement: an era of explosions, radiation, and steel. Even now that humanity and their new pantheon have reached the height of their potential, unrivaled in their feats and ambition, one thing remains true.

Humans might see a weapon at first, but they will always make it so much more when they are through.

As the God of Fire, the Supreme God has tasked you to supervise and educate a newly manifested Goddess. You find a sad, terrified, and confused child, fearful of her powers and the destruction it caused the mortal realm. You are to guide a being born from Man's work, The Goddess of Explosions.

[flowersforbucky]

all's well that ends well to end up with you

bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky isn't going to let an extended mission, a severe thunderstorm, and a delayed flight ruin your first valentine's day together.

word count: 3.8k

warnings/tags: SMUT, 18+ only mdni, oral (m&f receiving), fingering, nipple play, reader is afab, established relationship, no use of y/n, reader is described as being shorter than bucky, fluffy as hell, sweet domesticity

wrote this for my bb @embbarnes 💕 happy (very early) valentine's day, everyone!

Of all the ways you had been hoping to spend the last few hours of Valentine’s Day, over 30,000 feet in the air next to a snoring man who has never heard of deodorant was at the bottom of your list.

You should have seen it coming from the moment that your two day mission was extended to a three day mission, but you naively held out hope that you’d be able to make it back home in time to salvage the second half of the day.

Getting back early enough to keep the seven o’clock dinner reservations that you’d made for a new, upscale steakhouse in Brooklyn would have been possible if a last minute thunderstorm hadn’t delayed your flight back to New York.

Now it’s already half past seven, and you’ll be lucky if you make it back home before midnight.

Truthfully, you don’t care about the dinner reservations. Sure, you’d heard great things about the food and you had been excited to go, but you could easily reschedule the reservations for another time. The only thing that you were truly bummed about was not getting to spend the day with Bucky.

Today is your first Valentine’s Day as a couple, and instead of spending it with him, you’re spending it on a commercial flight with dozens of strangers. You can’t help but wonder how many of them are missing their significant other, too.

If you’d had it your way, you would have woken up to his face this morning. The two of you would have slept in as late as you desired, and had a slow, lazy morning before cooking him brunch. Waffles, sausage and bacon, scrambled eggs with extra cheese and hot sauce – all of his favorites. You would have taken a stroll through the park before stopping at the bakery that you frequent for doughnuts and coffee, and maybe visited the botanical gardens before your dinner reservations this evening.

Bucky had assured you that it wasn’t a big deal and that the two of you would make up for it when you were back home. He patiently reminded you that life doesn’t take holidays and special occasions into consideration when dishing out things such as extended work trips and inclement weather conditions.

Valentine’s Day aside, you simply miss him. You’ve been missing him since the moment you left for Nebraska, and you’re more than ready to be back in his arms. This is not the first time you’ve been apart due to work related trips, but this is by far the longest – a whopping seven days.

You miss the way he wants to keep at least one hand on you throughout the night, the way he talks to Alpine as if she will actually respond, and the way that he hums without even noticing that he’s doing it. All of the seemingly little things that you don’t think much of on a day to day basis, but when you’re apart, make you miss him all the more.

By the time your flight lands in New York and you catch an Uber back to your apartment, it’s nearly eleven o’clock. Bucky, of course, had offered to pick you up from the airport, but you had insisted that you were okay with getting an Uber, not wanting him to get out so late at night in the heavy rain.

Plus, if he had picked you up, it would have ruined your plan to surprise him by stopping by his favorite pizza parlor down the block from your apartment on your way home. Sal’s Pizzeria is always open until midnight, and every year they run specials the entire week of Valentine’s Day on heart-shaped pizzas.

Knowing Bucky, he’s likely been living off of instant Ramen since you left for your trip, so you figure he’ll be ecstatic over a late night pizza. Not to mention, you’re famished yourself – all you’ve eaten since lunch being the pack of Biscoff cookies you’d been given on the plane.

Lugging your suitcase, a backpack, and the large pizza box, you fumble with your keys before unlocking the door and stepping inside.

At first, you assume that Bucky is already asleep. But as you walk down the short hallway, you realize there’s soft music playing from somewhere in the apartment. You don't think much of it, since you know that Bucky prefers playing music as opposed to the television for background noise.

It’s almost completely dark, minus low orange lighting that trickles into the hallway from the kitchen.

“I’m home, baby,” you call softly as you approach the kitchen’s entryway. “I know it’s late, but I brought you some pizza, if you're hun—”

You stop dead in your tracks when you step into the kitchen. Dozens of tea light candles illuminate the room, placed strategically on the island in the middle of the room. And on the countertops, and the shelves – basically any flat surface twinkles with the delicate flames.

You stand frozen as a statue with your mouth agape as you take in the scene before you. In addition to the candles, there’s a spread of food across the island. Plates of delicious smelling pasta, small bowls of soup and glasses of red wine. Tied to the backs of the barstools are red and pink heart-shaped balloons.

It looks straight out of a romance movie.

“Pizza pairs well with pasta, I think,” Bucky's voice breaks you out of your trance. “Can never have too many carbs.”

Your gaze snaps over to where he emerges from the den. He wears a bashful smile, and even in the low glow of the candlelight, you can see the faint hint of blush blooming across the apples of his cheeks. He has his hands behind his back, as if trying to conceal something from you.

“You did all of this?” You ask lamely. Your voice is barely a whisper and contains a noticeable quiver. “For me?”

You can’t wrap your brain around it. No one has ever done anything quite like this for you. All of your ex boyfriends always shrugged off Valentine’s Day, leaving you feeling lucky if you got so much as a card. You’d long ago learned not to expect much of anything. Definitely not anything as intimate and thoughtful as this.

“Of course for you,” he murmurs with a low chuckle. He saunters over to where you’re still standing with the pizza box clutched in your hands, and pulls what appears to be a bouquet of flowers in a large mason jar out from behind his back.

“Who else would it be for? Alpine?” He teases, extending the jar to you. You plop the box onto the counter so that your hands are free to accept the flowers.

Upon closer inspection, you realize the bouquet of flowers are not real flowers.

Well, yes and no – they’re wildflowers, made of out Legos. You can’t help but giggle, remembering how you had mentioned how cute you think the Lego set is when you saw it while buying some groceries at Target a few weeks ago. You giggle even harder when you picture Bucky assembling all of the tiny pieces of the bouquet with his large, vibranium fingers.

Your eyes begin to well with tears that threaten to spill over. You quickly blink them back, not wanting to show just how emotional the ornate, colorful arrangement of plastic flowers is making you.

Not just the bouquet – all of it. The food and the wine, the balloons, the candles, the forties music playing lowly from the record player in the living room – the sheer amount of time and attention that he put into creating such a romantic display, and all from the comfort of your home.

“They’re perfect,” you murmur, wiping away a stray tear with sleeve of your sweater. You place the mason jar of the plastic flowers in the midst of the spread of food in front of you, making the scene complete.

“It’s all perfect.” He opens his arms to you, and you happily melt into his embrace. He smells of his familiar earthy cologne, and you can’t help but inhale deeply, relishing in the comfort of his scent and warmth.

Even if you’d come home to him passed out in bed, you would’ve been ecstatic to just crawl under the covers beside him. All of this is more than you ever would have hoped for.

“All I got you is a lousy heart-shaped meat lovers pizza,” you sniffle against his t-shirt and you feel his chest vibrate with laughter. You know that you have the reasonable excuse of being on an assignment in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere Nebraska for the last week, but you still feel bad.

“Hey,” he murmurs, using his index finger to tilt your face to look up at him. He grins down at you for a moment before tenderly pressing his lips against yours. You melt into him right away, having missed the feeling of his lips on yours in the week that you’ve been apart.

His hands travel to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. Your own hands cradle his face, your thumbs caressing the light dusting of stubble that adorns his cheeks. You can already feel the outline of an erection forming through the thin material of his pajama pants when he pulls away, much to your disappointment.

“I love meat lovers pizza,” he assures you with a smirk. “And I love you. The best present you could give me is coming home to me.”

“Still. I’m going to make it up to you,” you promise with a feather light kiss to his lips. “I promise. First thing tomorrow, I’m going to—”

You’re cut off by a low rumbling noise that sounds from between your bodies – a reminder that you haven’t eaten a substantial meal in twelve hours now. You glance over to the plates of food on the island beside you, inhaling the delicious aroma of the dishes.

“I made an educated guess that you’d be hungry,” Bucky chuckles. He reluctantly drops his hold on your waist and moves to pull the barstool out for you. You hop up, taking your seat in front of a heaping plate of pasta and a bowl of French onion soup. Your stomach growls again at the sight.

“Did you make all of this?” You ask, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. It’s not that Bucky is a bad cook – he has a few go-to meals that are always excellent, but he normally doesn’t stray too far out of his comfort zone.

“I did not,” he admits with a sigh. He takes a seat directly across from you. “I ordered takeout from the bistro down the street before they closed earlier. Heated it all back up when you texted me that you were almost home.”

“Well, it’s fucking delicious,” you mumble through a mouthful of the creamy pasta.

You eat together in the glow of the candlelight, with soft music playing in the background and heavy rain beating down against the windows of your apartment. You talk about everything from the details of your mission to what he did while you were away. The food is delicious, the wine he picked out pairs perfectly, it’s cozy and peaceful and romantic – and you realize that you’re enjoying this so much more than you ever would have enjoyed an upscale steakhouse in downtown Brooklyn.

You both end up being too full of pasta and soup to eat any of the pizza that you’d brought home, but you’re happy that you’ve got a whole pizza to look forward to having for lunch tomorrow.

“Thank you, baby,” you tell him after swallowing the last sip of your wine. “For all of this. It was more than I could’ve hoped for today.”

He reaches across the counter, grabbing your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips. “Of course,” he murmurs against your skin, eliciting goosebumps down your arm. “As much as I wish we could’ve spent the day together, I still wanted to make the last hour of it as special as possible.”

He stands, releasing your hand as he begins to collect the empty plates and glasses. “You go on and get ready for bed, yeah? I’ll clean up in here.”

“Nonsense. It's almost midnight. These dishes can wait until the morning. Just stick them in the sink and come shower with me.”

You don’t even care if the whole apartment still smells of garlic and French onion soup in the morning – you’ve been showering and sleeping without him for the last week, and it’s still technically Valentine’s Day, so you’ll allow the dirty dishes to sit for the next eight hours.

To your pleasant surprise, he needs no further convincing. He piles the dirty dishes into the kitchen sink and puts the uneaten pizza in the fridge while you get the shower water up to temperature. By the time his pajamas fall to the bathroom floor, you’re already standing under the hot stream of water.

He opens the shower door, a cheeky grin spreading across his face as soon as his eyes trail up and down your body. The way he looks at you never fails to make you feel like he’s seeing you naked for the very first time, every time.

His hands immediately come to rest on your hips, easing you back against the cool tiling of the shower wall. “God, I missed you,” he sighs as he massages his fingers into the meat of your hips. The contrast of his warm flesh hand and cold vibranium hand on your waist has you arching into his touch.

“I can tell,” you giggle, pulling his face down to yours by the back of his neck. His mouth slates over yours, his tongue sweeping along your bottom lip. You part your lips for him right away, more than ready to feel and taste him after all of your time away.

He nudges your legs apart with his knee, inserting one of his large thighs in-between your own. You sink your bare pussy onto the expanse of his muscular thigh, dragging your center across him for friction. He kisses you until you’re breathless, and only pulls away to instead latch his mouth over one of your nipples. He rolls it between his lips and tongue, using his hold on your waist to help move you up and down his thigh. He alternates between each nipple, kissing and sucking on each until they’re pert and pebbled.

His erection gains your attention as it juts against your belly. You reach between your bodies, taking his length in your hand and stroking him with ease, the water from the shower making his skin slick.

You whimper above him, desperate for some release. He laughs, peppering kisses across your breasts and up your neck. You feel him smiling into the column of your throat.

“I think you missed me, too,” he murmurs against your pulse point.

“Maybe,” you admit, your voice etched with impatience. “Why don’t we hurry and get out this shower so I can show you just how much I missed you?”

He presses a final kiss to the side of your neck before pulling away and smirking down at you. He reaches over to one of the shelves in the shower, grabbing a loofah and your bottle of body wash.

“I’ll have you know that I showered before you got home,” he says as he squirts a dollop of the gel onto the sponge. “I’m just here for your entertainment – and your convenience, of course. Now turn around.”

You do as he says, turning around to face the shower wall. You brace yourself against the tiles with your forearms, relaxing as he begins to massage the soap across the tops of your shoulders and down your back.

He takes his time, lazily rubbing the skin of the backs of your thighs before reaching around and doing the same to your stomach and chest. As good as it feels, all you can focus on is the head of his cock nudging against the curve of your ass.

“Bucky.”

The word comes out somewhere between a moan and a warning – a warning that if he doesn’t finish lathering your body in the next two seconds so you can rinse the fuck off, you’re going to take matters into your own hands.

“What is it, baby?” he asks innocently, stepping forward ever so slightly so that his cock inches between the space where your thighs meet your ass.

You turn back to face him, grabbing the loofah out of his hand and tossing it to the opposite end of the shower. The stream of water that beats down against your bodies washes the suds down the drain.

“You’re really going to tease me like that? On Valentine’s Day, of all days?”

“Pretty sure it’s after midnight now,” he quips with a smirk.

You turn so that you’re out of the direct line of the water, and lower yourself to the shower floor. His cock bobs inches in front of your face. You grasp him in your hand, languidly stroking his length as you stare up at him.

“Then I guess you’re lucky that I missed you so much.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but snaps it shut with a sharp intake of breath when you wrap your lips around his tip. You swirl your tongue around him, lapping up the beads of pearlescent white that had gathered around his slit. You begin to bob your head, taking more and more of him into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat.

Above you, he throws his head back and hisses at the sensation. His metal hand cradles the back of your head, guiding your movements. You gag at the overwhelming fullness, pulling away from him for air. You ease him back into your mouth, setting a steady pace. He rocks his hips forward, meeting your movements with his own.

In one hand, you cup his balls, gently massaging the sack. With your free hand, you attempt to relieve the growing ache between your own thighs by rubbing quick circles over your clit. The thrusts of his hips start to grow erratic, and you feel him twitch against your tongue when he suddenly pulls away from you.

“Not gonna cum in your mouth,” he answers when he looks down to see your questioning stare. “Not tonight. Missed you too much.”

He pulls you up by the tops of your arms and eases you back against the shower wall once more. He then takes your place on the floor, kneeling in front of you. He trails kisses along the wet skin of your thighs as he hooks one over his shoulder. He wastes no more time, diving into your pussy. His tongue swirls over your clit as he brings one long, metal finger to tease your hole. He nudges it inside as his lips suction around the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of your folds.

Your body goes relaxed, your back sliding down the wet tiling of the shower wall. Bucky helps support you from down below as he sinks his vibranium digit deeper inside you.

The coil in your lower belly tightens quickly, pent up from a whole week without his touch. He can always tell when you’re close by the little noises that you make and the way that you tug on the short brown locks of his hair with your fingers.

He groans as he licks a thick strip up your slit, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you, your cunt clenching around his thick vibranium finger as he sucks your clit until you go still above him.

It's then that it hits you that the water from the shower has started to run cold.

“Come on,” Bucky says, rising as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He turns the faucet off and grabs the two towels that hang over the glass wall of the shower, handing you one before wrapping his around his waist. “Let's get out of here. I’ve got one more gift to give you before we continue this.”

“Another gift? You’ve already done so much. I didn’t even get—”

He gently shushes you with a sly grin, exiting the shower before you can protest any further. You pat your skin dry before securing the towel around your chest and then follow him into your shared bedroom.

Alpine is snoring softly at the foot of your king sized bed, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re even home. Everything is exactly as you left it, from the stack of half finished books on your nightstand to the orange Himalayan salt rock lamp that hasn’t been turned off a single time since the two of you moved into the apartment together. The comfort and familiarity of everything makes you feel all the more grateful to be back home.

You grab a bottle of lotion off of your bedside table and begin lathering it onto the skin of your legs as you watch Bucky rummage through the drawer of his own nightstand. After a moment, he pulls out a small, dark red colored box.

“Catch!” He warns before gently tossing it across the bed to you. You catch it, a smile blooming across your face as you sooth your thumb over the velvet material encasing the small box. He walks over to your side of the bed to stand beside you.

You raise the lid to box, revealing a dainty gold chain with a capital letter B dangling in the center.

You think it’s perfect. It’s isn’t overly ostentatious – it’s the perfect size, and so very you.

“Do you like it?” Bucky asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“I love it,” you assure him, overwhelmed by how sweet and thoughtful he is. “Help me put it on?”

You don’t care that it’s the middle of the night, you want it on you right now.

Bucky takes the box from you, carefully removing the necklace. You turn away from him, letting him drape the delicate chain around your neck. The charm lands just below your clavicle.

“There,” he murmurs as he clasps the chain together. You turn back to face him, letting him see his initial displayed across your chest. “Perfect.”

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper as you raise up on your feet to press your lips to his. The light flavor of your slick lingers on his lips, sending a fresh wave of arousal through your gut. “So much.”

“Of course,” he murmurs against your mouth. “Now lay down. Wanna see how it looks on ya without the towel.”

••••••

thanks so much for reading!! comments and reblogs are very appreciated ♡

[wolvietxt]

𝓢ILENT 𝓣REATMENT.

pairings : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : argument, crying, hurt / comfort, happy ending, established relationship au, shouting, implied size diff (like my fav trope if you can’t already tell) silent treatment  summary : after an argument with frank, you both end up giving eachother silent treatment, until the tension gets too unbearable for you in the car. wc : 4.5k a/n : i got a req for this a few days ago but i think i deleted it or something i can’t find it now💔 but it was from an anon so thank you for this one because i loved writing this ALSO!! thank you to everyone who leaves feedback + little comments on my frank fics i notice it happens more when i write for frank and it’s the absolute sweetest

the air in the apartment felt heavy, charged, like a storm was brewing right there in the middle of the living room. frank was pacing now, his big hands flexing at his sides, his jaw tight enough that you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.  

you didn’t fight - not like this. not with him raising his voice and you trying so hard not to let yours crack. it wasn’t how things usually went. frank was tough, sure, rough around the edges in a way that didn’t really go away even when he was at his gentlest. but with you, he was softer. he made an effort to rein it in because he’d told you once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that he didn’t want you to ever be scared of him. and you never had been.

but tonight, he was angry. angrier than you’d ever seen him at you, and the worst part was you weren’t sure how it had even escalated to this.  

“so what?” frank barked, spinning on his heel to face you, his broad frame taking up what felt like the entire room. “you think i’m just gonna sit back and let this slide?” his voice was sharp, cutting, and it made you flinch, even though you knew deep down that he’d never in a million years actually hurt you. “you think that’s who i am?”  

you held your ground, even though your heart was pounding against your ribs. “it’s not about letting it slide, frank,” you said softly, your tone calm, measured - a stark contrast to the heat in his voice. “it’s about not making it worse. escalating doesn’t fix anything.”  

“escalating?” he repeated, his voice rising, almost incredulous. “this isn’t escalating, this is handling it. you don’t just let people treat you like crap n’ walk away. you should know that’s not how it works.”  

“sometimes it is,” you said quietly, refusing to match his volume. “sometimes walking away is the only thing you can do. not everything has to be a fight.”  

“bullshit.” the word came out harsh, and the bite in it made your chest tighten. frank rarely swore at you, and when he did, it was never like this, never with this kind of edge.  

your hands trembled slightly, so you folded your arms across your chest, not in defiance but as a way to steady yourself. “frank, please. i don’t want to argue about this.”  

“yeah, well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you went and tried to handle this on your own.” he threw his hands up, his frustration spilling over like a dam breaking. “you didn’t even tell me, and now i’m supposed to just sit back and be okay with it?”  

“i didn’t tell you because i knew this is how you’d react,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.  

his face twisted, a mixture of disbelief and something else - hurt, maybe. but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a hard, almost cold expression. “damn right this is how i’d react,” he shot back. “because i give a shit. because i don’t want you getting hurt or screwed over or whatever the hell else might happen if i’m not there to step in.”  

“i know you care,” you said, your voice still soft but firm. “but you can’t control everything, frank. sometimes things happen, and you just have to let them go.”  

he let out a sharp, bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “letting it go gets you hurt. letting it go gets you walked all over. i’m not gonna let that happen to you.”  

his words were loud, forceful, like he was trying to hammer them into your head, but they only made your throat tighten more. “i can handle myself,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts.  

“can you?” he snapped, and the doubt in his tone stung worse than any of the yelling.  

you flinched, your eyes dropping to the floor. “that’s not fair,” you whispered.  

“yeah, well, life’s not fair,” he shot back, his tone still razor-sharp.  

silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating. you could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill, but you refused to cry - not in front of him, not when he was like this, which he never had been before. you’d seen flashes of it occasionally, never once directed at you. so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out of the room, your steps quick but steady, your back straight even though every part of you felt like curling up into yourself.  

you didn’t look back, but you could feel his eyes on you as you left.  

the door clicked softly as you shut yourself in the bathroom, leaning back against the cool wood as you tried to pull in a steadying breath. it felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs back in the living room, and now the weight of it all was crashing down on you.  

you stared at the tiled floor, your arms wrapped around yourself like that might somehow hold you together. your chest felt tight, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, but you bit down hard on your bottom lip, refusing to let them fall. not yet, anyway.  

you weren’t used to this - not with frank. he could be sharp, blunt, even infuriatingly stubborn sometimes, but he was never cruel. not to you. in the years since you’d met him, since the whirlwind of your relationship had gone from cautiously circling each other to something real and steady, frank had always been your safe place. he was intense, sure, but his intensity had always felt protective, grounding, like you could lean on him no matter how bad things got.  

so why did it feel like he was the one knocking the ground out from under you now?  

you pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, trying to will the tears away. it wasn’t fair to pin all the blame on him, you knew that. this argument wasn’t entirely about frank’s temper, or his need to protect you - it was about your own unwillingness to let him.  

the issue had started small, just a casual remark you’d made earlier in the week about someone you worked with - someone who’d been taking advantage of your kindness. you hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but frank had picked up on it immediately, and the more you’d tried to brush it off, the more his protective instincts had kicked in.  

at first, it had been sweet, his quiet grumbles about how people didn’t deserve to treat you that way, how you needed to stand up for yourself more. but somewhere along the line, it had turned into this - a full-blown argument where neither of you seemed to be able to see the other’s side.  

you weren’t blind to why he was upset. frank had been through more than most people could even imagine, and the idea of someone hurting you - or even disrespecting you - lit a fire in him that he couldn’t always control. but the way he handled that fire was what made your chest ache. it felt suffocating, like his need to protect you was overshadowing the fact that you didn’t want - or need - him to fight your battles for you.  

you let out a shaky breath, the first tear slipping free as the weight of it all settled heavier on your shoulders.  

frank had always been larger than life to you - not just physically, though his sheer size and strength made you feel small in comparison, but in the way he carried himself, the way he seemed to command every room he walked into. it was part of what had drawn you to him in the first place, the quiet confidence that bordered on intimidating until you saw the softness he tried so hard to hide.  

he’d always been gentle with you, even when his hands were so calloused and rough, even when his voice was so gravelly and low. it made the harshness of his words tonight cut deeper, the sharp edges of his anger something you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of.  

you wiped at your face quickly, straightening up as you tried to pull yourself together. you hated crying - especially over arguments like this. it made you feel weak, even though you knew it wasn’t, and the last thing you wanted was for frank to think he’d broken you. he’d never stop beating himself up over it.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to go back out there yet. not with the way his words were still echoing in your mind, the frustration in his voice still ringing in your ears.  

you stayed there for a while, letting the quiet of the bathroom wrap around you like a blanket, giving yourself the space to breathe and feel without the weight of frank’s presence bearing down on you.  

meanwhile, in the living room, frank was pacing again. his hands were on his hips, his brows drawn together in that way they always did when he was deep in thought - or pissed off.  

he knew you were upset. hell, he wasn’t an idiot, and he’d seen the way your eyes were brimming with tears before you’d turned and walked away. it wasn’t the first time he’d pushed too hard, but it was the first time it had been directed at you, and it was eating at him in a way he didn’t want to admit.  

but the anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, and he couldn’t seem to let it go. it wasn’t directed at you - not at all. it was at the situation, at the asshole who’d made you feel like you had to handle everything on your own. but frank wasn’t exactly good at untangling those things, at separating his frustration from the people he cared about most.  

he scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a low growl of frustration as he dropped onto the couch. his mind was running in circles, replaying the argument over and over again, each word sharper than the last.  

the silence in the apartment felt deafening, and for a moment, he considered going to find you, to try and talk this out. but he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to stay put. you needed space - he knew that much, even if it went against every instinct he had.  

he sat there for a long time, the tension in his body refusing to ease as he stared at the spot where you’d been standing just minutes before.  

the car keys sat on the counter, untouched, while the clock crept closer to the time you were supposed to leave. it had been a whole thing - this charity function a few towns over. someone important to frank had invited him, and even though it wasn’t the kind of event he’d normally go for, he’d said yes because it mattered to them.  

you had said yes because it mattered to him.  

but now, with the argument still heavy in the air, the thought of sitting next to him for almost four hours felt like trying to breathe underwater. the quiet that lingered between you wasn’t the natural kind you often enjoyed. it was thick and suffocating, and neither of you seemed ready to cut through it.  

you stood in the bedroom doorway, watching frank tie his boots like the act itself had wronged him. his movements were sharp, jerky, and his mouth was set in a grim line. you weren’t sure if it was guilt or frustration written in his expression, but either way, it left your stomach in knots.  

he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, yanking it on with a force that looked like it made the seams strain. his head turned slightly toward you as if he was about to say something, but then he thought better of it, his eyes dropping to the floor instead.  

you didn’t move, didn’t speak, just hovered in the doorway as he brushed past you toward the front door. the weight of it all - the argument, the way he hadn’t looked at you since - pressed down on your chest like a boulder, and your throat burned with more unshed tears.  

when he held the door open for you, you walked through it wordlessly, your gaze fixed on the floor.  

outside, the crisp night air felt sharper than it should have, like even the weather was conspiring to remind you how raw everything was. frank locked the door behind you without a word, and the sound of the lock clicking into place made you flinch.  

he didn’t notice.  

the car ride loomed ahead of you like a punishment, the thought of sitting in that confined space together for hours making your palms sweat. but there was no way out of it, not without causing more problems.  

frank climbed into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles went white. he started the engine without looking at you, the low growl of it filling the space where words should’ve been.  

you slid into the passenger seat, keeping your hands in your lap and your gaze fixed on the window. the city lights blurred into streaks as the car picked up speed, but you weren’t paying attention to where you were going. your mind was stuck on everything that had been said - and everything that hadn’t.  

he’d been angry. louder than usual, harsher, the words tumbling out of him like he didn’t know how to stop them. but you knew frank. you knew the fire in him wasn’t because he didn’t care - it was because he cared too much, and it scared him sometimes.  

still, knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.  

the silence in the car was unbearable, the kind that made you want to fill it just so you didn’t have to sit with the weight of it anymore. but frank wasn’t giving you an inch, his eyes glued to the road and his shoulders hunched up like he was trying to shield himself from the world.  

you stole a glance at him, your chest aching at the sight of his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. he looked tired - angry, yes, but tired too, like the argument had drained him in ways he didn’t want to admit.  

your own emotions were bubbling up, threatening to spill over no matter how hard you tried to keep them in check. your hands trembled slightly in your lap, and you clenched them into fists to try to stop it, but it didn’t help.  

you didn’t even realize you were crying until a tear slipped down your cheek, cool against your flushed skin. you brushed it away quickly, hoping frank wouldn’t notice, but you doubted he’d even glanced your way.  

the road stretched on, dark and empty except for the occasional glow of headlights from oncoming cars. the longer the silence dragged, the heavier it felt, like it was wrapping around your throat and making it hard to breathe.  

eventually, the ache in your chest grew too much to bear. you didn’t know what you wanted - comfort, maybe, or some kind of reassurance that everything would be okay - but the urge to reach out was overwhelming.  

your hand hovered hesitantly over the center console, your fingers trembling as you debated whether or not to do it. it felt like crossing some invisible line, like putting yourself out there in a way that left you completely vulnerable.  

but then you glanced at frank, at the way his brow furrowed and his jaw tightened, and something in you broke.  

with tears brimming in your eyes and a small, helpless pout tugging at your lips, you let your fingers reach up to grasp at his. the touch was so light it was barely there, but it was enough to draw his attention.  

he glanced down at your hand, his gaze softening instantly as he took in the way your fingers trembled and the sheen of tears in your eyes, the wet tracks of tears that’d already fallen etched on your face.

“ah, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice rough but laced with a tenderness that made your heart ache.  

his hand moved to cover yours completely, his fingers curling around your smaller ones in a gesture that felt both protective and grounding. his thumb brushed over the back of your hand in slow, deliberate strokes, and the tension in your chest eased just a little.  

you sniffled, blinking quickly to clear your vision as you looked up at him. his expression had shifted, the hard lines of his face softening as he met your gaze.  

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.  

frank let out a heavy sigh, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as he pulled the car off to the side of the road. the tires crunched against the gravel as he put it in park, and before you could ask what he was doing, he was out of the car.  

your breath caught as he rounded the front of the vehicle, his movements deliberate but not rushed. he opened your door, the cool night air rushing in as he crouched slightly to meet your eyes.  

“c’mere,” he said softly, his tone a stark contrast to the anger that had been there earlier.  

you hesitated for only a moment before unbuckling your seatbelt and letting him pull you into his arms. his embrace was warm and solid, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel small and safe all at once.  

“’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your hair, his voice rough with emotion. “shouldn’t’ve yelled. shouldn’t’ve made you feel like that.”  

you buried your face in his chest, your own arms slipping around his middle as you let out a shaky breath. “i’m sorry too,” you whispered.  

“you don’t gotta be sorry, you did nothing wrong. my sweet girl’s just nice to everyone, isn’t she?” he cooed, his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing gently against your temple as he peppered hard kisses over your face. “we’re okay?”  

you nodded against him, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. “we’re okay.”  

he pressed another kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment longer than before. but instead of pulling back completely, frank’s lips trailed down, brushing lightly against your temple, then your cheek.  

your breath hitched, your hand tightening around his shirt as he hesitated, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. when your eyes flicked up to meet his, there was something unspoken between you - an ache, a pull that neither of you could ignore.  

“frank…” your voice was barely a whisper, and it only made him lean in closer.  

his hand moved to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his lips finally found yours. the kiss was slow at first, soft and careful, but there was a heat behind it, a depth that made your stomach twist in the best way.  

he kissed you like he needed you, like he couldn’t get close enough no matter how tightly he held you. his other hand slid to your waist, pulling you against him just enough to make you feel the strength behind every touch, every movement.  

when he pulled back, it was with a low, rumbling breath, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady himself. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice rough and tinged with something deeper.  

your cheeks flushed, your heart racing as you tried to find the words, but all you could do was nod, your fingers still gripping the front of his shirt.  

he pressed one last, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before stepping back. “c’mon,” he said, his tone softer now, his thumb brushing your cheek one last time before helping you back into the car.  

as he slid into the driver’s seat, his hand found yours again, holding on tightly. this time, neither of you let go.  

the rest of the drive was quiet, but not in the same way as before. frank kept one hand on the wheel, the other holding yours firmly in his grasp. his thumb moved in slow, lazy circles over your knuckles, a silent apology with every stroke.  

you felt the tension melting bit by bit, your chest no longer tight with the weight of everything left unsaid. instead, there was this warmth - a softness between you that hadn’t been there earlier. it was unspoken, but it was enough to ease the ache in your heart.  

“we’ll stop soon, yeah?” frank broke the silence, his voice low and softer than usual. “get you somethin’ to eat.”  

your lips curved into a small smile, your first real one since the argument. “i’m okay,” you murmured. “we don’t have to stop.”  

“nah.” he glanced over at you, his eyes lingering for a second longer than they should’ve. “you didn’t eat much earlier. ain’t lettin’ you sit through this thing hungry.”  

the tenderness in his voice made your cheeks heat, and you squeezed his hand lightly in response.  

it wasn’t long before frank pulled off at a small diner on the side of the road. the neon sign flickered against the night sky, casting a warm glow over the parking lot.  

“c’mon,” he said, cutting the engine and stepping out.  

before you could even reach for the door handle, frank was already there, pulling it open for you. his hand was outstretched, waiting for yours, and when you slipped your fingers into his, he gave them a gentle squeeze.  

inside, the diner was quiet, the hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filling the space. frank led you to a booth in the corner, his hand never leaving yours until you slid into your seat.  

“what’re you in the mood for?” he asked, his eyes scanning the menu even though you both knew he’d end up ordering the same thing he always did.  

you shrugged, your fingers playing with the edge of the napkin in front of you. “maybe just some fries.”  

frank frowned, lowering the menu to look at you. “you need more than that.”  

“frank, i’m fine - ”  

“i’ll get you somethin’ else too,” he cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

you bit back a smile, knowing better than to push him when he got like this. instead, you let him order for both of you, his gruff voice somehow softer when he spoke to the waitress.  

when the food arrived, frank nudged the plate closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly when you hesitated. “eat, sweetheart,” he said gently.  

you rolled your eyes but grabbed a fry anyway, earning a satisfied grunt from him.  

as you ate, the tension from earlier felt like a distant memory. frank had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like no matter how bad things got, everything would eventually be okay.  

after the meal, frank walked you back to the car, his hand settling on the small of your back as he guided you outside. the night air was crisp, but his touch was warm, steady, and it made you lean into him just a little.  

“y’alright?” he asked once you were back in the passenger seat.  

you nodded, looking up at him with a soft smile. “yeah. i’m okay.”  

his eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and then, without a word, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. it was quick but tender, and when he pulled back, his hand cupped your cheek for a second longer.  

the drive to the function was quieter this time, but it wasn’t the heavy silence from before. it was comfortable, the kind of quiet where words weren’t necessary because you both knew everything was okay now.  

as you pulled up to the venue, frank cut the engine and turned to you. his expression was softer, his usual rough edges smoothed out in a way that made your heart ache.  

“you look beautiful,” he said, his voice gruff but sincere.  

your cheeks flushed at the compliment, and you glanced down at your dress, suddenly feeling shy. “thank you,” you murmured.  

he leaned over, his large hand settling on your knee as he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. “‘m gonna keep tellin’ you that all night,” he added, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks.  

the warmth in your chest grew, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “you don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, your tone light.  

he chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, and you swore it was the best thing you’d heard all day.  

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he said, opening his door. “let’s get this over with.”  

as you stepped out of the car, frank was already by your side, his hand finding yours once more. he held it tightly, his grip firm and reassuring, and when he glanced down at you, there was something in his eyes that made your breath catch.  

it was love - raw and unfiltered, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.  

and in that moment, you knew that no matter what, you and frank would always find your way back to each other.  

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[charmedimsure]

THE NEXT EPISODE || thanos

pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader

summary: You and Su-bong reunite after his stay at rehab. No debt/no games AU.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: rehab, drinking, drugs, addiction, depression

A/N: i've been working on this for like two weeks and i still feel like i could work on it more. i love this mini series i made and i'm excited to see how other people like it :) if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 1: Wake Up Call

Today is the big day. The day Su-bong has been working towards for the past six months.

Today he gets out of rehab.

He originally tried to quit on his own, but after multiple relapses, he decided he needed help. Due to his multiple addictions and how long he's been addicted for, the doctors at the facility suggested a longer stay for him, to which he agreed.

Before he left, he gave you the keys to his apartment, putting you in charge of managing the place while he's away. You also promised to get rid of anything in his apartment that could potentially be abused.

Rehab had actually not been bad. It certainly wasn't easy, but Su-bong felt better about it knowing there were so many other people there going through the same thing as him. He had ended up making some really good friends there, friends that he was excited to see again once they all got out. A few of them had made plans to meet up at a coffee house soon, about a week after Su-bong is released.

The thing Su-bong has been looking forward to the most while in rehab is seeing you again. The only visitors that were allowed were family members, so he had to settle for just talking to you on the phone.

"Can I see you soon?" Su-bong asks into the phone.

"I have to work today, but I'm off tomorrow if you want to come by?" you say. "Oh, and I left something for you on your counter."

Su-bong smiles into the phone. "You didn't have to do that."

"Don't get too excited, it's not much," you laugh. "But I just wanted to give you something to congratulate you."

"I'll be happy with anything you give me," he says.

"Cheesy," you groan, making him laugh. A small gasp comes from Su-bong's phone. "Shoot, my boss just texted me I have to go in early. I'm sorry, I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

"All good," Su-bong says. "Yeah, I'll text you. Let me know when you get to the club and back home safe."

"I will," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

<>

Su-bong walks into his apartment. A chill washes over him. It's been so long since he was here, and he's changed so much. He puts his things down, walking into his kitchen.

A feeling of dread fills him. Was six months enough? Is he really able to do this?

A glint catches his eye, and he sees a small chain sitting on his counter. Attached to it is a dog tag. He picks it up, examining it. When he notices a clasp on the side of the dog tag, he opens it, revealing a small note in your handwriting.

'I'm proud of you <3'

A comfortable warmth fills his body as he smiles at your note. He closes the tag, immediately putting the chain around his neck.

He looks around his place. It holds way too many memories of his time before rehab. Waking up with a headache so bad he's worried his head might implode, turning over to see some random girl in his bed who's name he can't remember. That's not how he wants to live anymore.

He takes a water bottle from the fridge, which you must have put in there for him, and sits on his couch, looking up listings for available apartments. Preferably one close to you.

<>

Su-bong feels his heart race as he stands in front of your apartment door. He's been waiting for this moment for six months. With a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

Footsteps are heard from the other side of the door. Something makes a loud bang and he hears you curse, making his lips twitch upwards.

The door opens and there you are. He swears you've only gotten more beautiful since he last saw you.

"Woah, I almost didn't recognize you," you smile.

He smiles, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He hadn't dyed his hair since before rehab, leaving it at its natural dark brown. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot."

"I like it," you say. "You look much more like Su-bong."

He feels his face heat up, muttering a shy 'thank you'.

You step to the side, opening the door wider. "Come in! I'll go grab a snack."

Su-bong walks into your apartment, a smile playing on his face at the familiar set up. You move to the kitchen and he sits on your couch. He chuckles at the new blanket laying next to him, clearly having been used recently.

He looks up as you walk back into the room, placing a bowl of pretzels and a bottle of blue Gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. You remembered.

He gestures toward the blanket. "That new?"

You put a pretzel in your mouth and smile at him, nodding enthusiastically. "My mom got it for me. You have to feel it, it's so soft." He chuckles as you cover your mouth with your hand, too excited to tell him about the blanket to wait until you've swallowed your food.

He reaches out to the blanket, eyes widening when his fingers graze the fabric. "Holy shit."

"Right?!" you laugh, picking up the blanket and sitting down. You toss it over both of your legs. You take a moment to study his face. "You look really good, Su-bong."

He feels himself blush, turning away in embarrassment. "Yeah, my pupils are finally the correct size."

You laugh at the comment. "Yes, that. But you also just look much healthier. Much happier."

He nods. "I feel happier. I thought I was happy all those nights at the club, drinking away my life. But now I know that wasn't real happiness." He looks at you, looking deep into your eyes. "This is real happiness."

Now it's your turn to look away, feeling heat rush to your face. "I'm glad. You deserve happiness."

He smiles.

"Even though you once tried to pay me to take off my shirt."

Su-bong cringes, bringing his hand to his face as you laugh. "Can you please stop bringing that up?"

You shake your head. "No way. This is the punishment you get for that. Me making fun of you. I think it's a fair exchange."

He laughs. "Fair enough."

You continue talking for the next hour or so, telling each other about everything and nothing. Su-bong's heart soars every time he is able to make you laugh. He's made music his entire life, but no song could ever compare to the sweet tune of your laughter.

"On Sunday I'm gonna meet up with a few friends from rehab at that new coffee place around the corner," he says. "Do you want to come?"

You shake your head. "Thank you for the invitation but I don't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding," he assures. "I, uh, talked about you a lot and they really want to meet you."

Your face heats up at his admission, nodding. "In that case, I'd love to go."

He smiles. "Good."

You put on a movie to watch, saying you saw one while he was away and couldn't wait to show it to him. Throughout the movie, Su-bong sneaks glances at you. He's wanted you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. You were the hot bartender with a fiery personality.

Now, though, as he watches you chew your lip in concentration, he sees just how amazing you truly are. You're the beautiful girl who changed his life for the better. The amazing girl who gave him a reason to become a better person. The kind girl who talked on the phone with him every day while he was in rehab.

You're his best friend. And he's deeply in love with you.

<>

Su-bong opens the door to the coffee house, letting you walk inside first before entering as well.

"Hey, Su-bong!" a voice yells, getting his attention. He smiles when he sees his friends, waving at them. He motions for you to follow him as you head over to the table.

"Hey guys," he greets, giving each of them a small hug. It feels nice to see them on the outside. They all accomplished the same thing, and they'll forever be close for doing it together.

He looks to you. "Oh right. This is Jung-su, Shin-il, and Ji-hae."

Each of them wave and smile at you as he says their names. Once he introduces you, they all seem to get a similar look on their faces.

"Oh, so you're the girl he keeps talking about," Shin-il smirks. Su-bong lightly smacks his arm, making the boy laugh.

"Shin-il, be quiet!" Ji-hae rolls her eyes. She turns to you. "He told us about how you helped him get sober. We're glad he had someone so supportive helping him."

You smile. "I just wanted to help any way I could. He's the one who ultimately chose to get help." You smile at him and he feels his heart melt. "And I'm glad he was able to make some great friends in there, from what he's told me."

"Aw, you talked about us?" Jung-su flashes Su-bong with puppy eyes, making the ladder roll his own.

"Plus, now he doesn't call me 'Señorita' anymore, so really I got something out of it too," you say.

The table bursts out in laughter and Su-bong hides his face behind his hands. "Maybe it was a mistake bringing you here, I didn't realize you were all going to gang up on me."

You laugh, rubbing his arm. "I'm just kidding. Come on, let's go get something to drink."

You move to stand but he puts a hand on your shoulder. "I got it. What do you want?"

You tell him your order, thanking him as he walks to the counter.

Ji-hae leans across the table to you. "He really likes you, you know," she smiles. "Talked about you all the time."

You smile. "He's a really great guy. I wish I could've talked to him sooner, maybe he would've gotten help sooner. He's my best friend now."

"You should go out with him," she says. "Based on how he talked about you, he'd treat you right."

You turn to look at Su-bong, smiling as he rocks back and forth on his feet while waiting in line.

"I do like him," you say, turning back to Ji-hae. "I just want to give him some time first. He just got out of rehab, I feel like he should have some time to figure out what he really wants and adjust to sobriety, if that makes sense."

"Totally," Jung-su says, nodding his head. "I've been out two months now and I still feel like this is all new."

"Just please be there for him," Shin-il asks.

You nod. "I'm not going anywhere."

On the other side of the coffee house, while waiting for your drinks, Su-bong feels a hand grasp his shoulder.

"Holy shit man," a familiar voice says behind him. "You dropped off the face of the earth!"

Su-bong turns to see the smiling face of Nam-gyu.

"Where have you been, dude?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to answer but is cut off when Nam-gyu continues.

"You know what, it doesn't matter." He pulls a small bag out of his jacket pocket. "I just got some new shit. It's fucking insane, man. You gotta try it."

He stares at the pills. This is the first time that drugs have been so accessible to him since before rehab. A cold sweat breaks out and his breath gets quicker. It would be so easy. All he'd have to do is pop one little pill.

He turns back to look at the table. You're sitting there, laughing with Jung-su. The sound flows to his ears and a soft smile graces his face. The sweat stops and his breathing goes back to normal.

He doesn't need pills anymore. He has you. And you make him so much happier than pills ever have or ever will.

He turns back to Nam-gyu, straightening his posture. "No, I don't do that stuff anymore."

Nam-gyu gives him a look. "Are you kidding, dude? You can't get this shit anywhere, and you're turning it down? What the fuck happened to you, Thanos?"

"It's Su-bong, actually," he says.

"No more Thanos!? What's going on?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to respond, but is beaten by another voice.

"Nam-gyu, leave him alone, please," you say, putting a hand on Su-bong's shoulder as you step beside him.

Nam-gyu looks between the two of you before a knowing smile spreads on his face.

"Oh, I see," he says. "So this is the guy you've been calling all the time." The barista calls out his name and he takes his cup. "Knew it was only a matter of time before you two got together, I should've bet on it." He turns, walking toward the door. "I'll see you at work!"

You wave to him as he leaves, turning to Su-bong. "Are you okay? He didn't give you anything, did he?"

He shakes his head. "He offered, but I said no. I was expecting him to be a lot less understanding."

"I've been talking to him the past few months at work, turns out he's not bad when he's not constantly sticking his nose up someone else's ass," you say, making Su-bong laugh. His name is called and you take the cups from the barista, thanking them before handing Su-bong's drink to him, taking his hand and leading him back to the table.

"Welcome back, Señorita," Shin-il smirks.

The table bursts out in laughter again and Su-bong stands from the table, waving goodbye to everyone. You grab his wrist before he can get too far, laughing along with him as he sits back down next to you.

<>

It's been about five months since Su-bong got out of rehab. He's been doing very good, resisting every time he feels even the slightest temptation.

He's gotten back into music and is working on his next album, which is going to be the first he's releasing that's not under the name "Thanos", instead rebranding as Choi Su-bong. You're of course his biggest supporter and he plays you all of his songs to get your opinion. You've even helped on a few songs, and he plans on crediting you as a co-writer.

Remembering what you told him nearly a year ago, he surprised you one day with your own guitar, taking the time to teach you how to play. You're still learning, but he loves everything you play, nearly as much as he loves your laugh whenever you play the wrong note.

You've been dancing around each other for the past few months, both aware of your feelings, but liking what you have going on between you for now. As time passes, though, Su-bong can feel himself getting closer to the edge, ready to take the leap.

One day you're both sitting in Su-bong's new apartment when he turns to you.

"Hey," Su-bong says. You look up from your phone at him. "I uh, I want to play something for you, if that's okay."

You smile, locking your phone and putting it face-down on the couch. "Yeah, I'd love that."

He stands up and reaches his hand out towards you. You take it, standing as he leads you to his piano. He sits on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him.

"I actually wrote this for you," he says, shyly looking at you. You smile at him, giving him a nod of encouragement. With a deep breath, he begins playing the notes before singing.

"I text a postcard sent to you Did it go through? Sending all my love to you You are the moonlight of my life every night Giving all my love to you."

You feel your eyes start to water as you listen to the words. His words reflect exactly how you feel, put in a way that makes it more beautiful than anything you could say to him.

You've heard him sing more ties than you can count. But sitting here next to him, listening as he pours his heart out to you, you don't think any song will ever compare.

"With every breath that I am worth Here on Earth I'm sending all my love to you So if you dare to second guess You can rest Assured that all my love's for you."

Su-bong puts his entire heart into the song. He had started writing it on the piano they had at the rehabilitation center. He had written a few songs while he was there, but this one was specifically inspired by you. The lyrics were from notes he would write down while talking to you, things that came to his head as your sweet voice drifted through the speaker of his phone.

"My beating heart belongs to you I walked for miles till I found you I'm here to honor you If I lose everything in the fire I'm sending all my love to you."

He stops playing, bringing his arms to his sides. He slowly looks up at you. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I can ever pay you back, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying if you'll let me."

A tear escapes your eye. You sniffle, nodding your head.

Su-bong reaches out to cup your cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. He looks down to your lips before looking back up to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

He leans forward, closing his eyes as his lips make contact with yours. Su-bong has kissed girls before, more than he'd like to admit, but he feels like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time.

This is a moment nearly a year in the making. All of his longing for you, his adoration of you is put into the kiss.

He pulls back, regaining his breath as he looks over your face. Your kiss-swollen lips are just begging to be kissed again, but there's something that needs to be done first.

"I love you," he says. "I've loved you for a long time. You're the most amazing person I've ever met and there's nothing I want more than to be with you."

You smile at him, and he feels starstruck by how beautiful you are. "I love you too, Su-bong," you say. "I'm forever grateful that you showed me the real you that day in my apartment. Because I love the real you. So much."

Su-bong's face lights up in a smile, leaning forward to capture your lips again in an awkward kiss that makes you both laugh.

All his hard work is paying off. He is finally worthy of happiness. He is finally worthy of you. And he's going to spend every day making sure he stays worthy.

Song: Last Night on Earth by Green Day

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5 @skywalker0809 @zannispppp @lianobody

Pt 2 tags: @dweeebazoid @apookalypse @jxsibat @fallout-girl219 @senorittaaaa

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist

[sleep-0-deprived]

Sirens touch~! (Kyle Garrick x male siren reader) 𓊝

WC:.2.1K

Tags: pwlp, anal sex, sex on a boat, monster x human, pheromones used as drugs, fish anatomy mentioned, bottom male reader, seduction themes, siren songs, handjobs, neck biting, blood mentioned 𓇼

A/N: this one is for @creepy141dollie hope Y’ like it, forgive if M’ descriptions of sirens are inaccurate, this was jus my thought process <33

Taglist: @kimisbunny @asher-is-hotxp @silvern1006 @unstab1eperson2 @yyuinaa @dewday1 @blond3ang3l @creepy141dollie @m4r13ll @ihavezeropancreas @sooobiinn @just-ignore-them @fuckingmxonlight @nightwinglover101 @chasingknives @littlelilithsposts

𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟𓆝𓆟𓆝

The air was fogged over and cold- rigidly so, you could almost taste the salt in the air when you breathed in the mist. Kyle wasn’t happy about this in the slightest, the moment price caught wind of makarov supposedly hiding somewhere across the sea, he had the whole task force on a ship on the ocean waters, that included Gaz too. Gaz walked around on the deck, he’d peek his head over the rails and stare into the nearly black abyss of water— god he could only imagine how cold that water must’ve been.

His eyes slowly widen when he sees something beneath the sheets of liquid, it was probably just a dumb fish swimming around. Garrick wasn’t made for the waters nor did he like them, sea sick was the only thing he ever got from it— and was that a person laying on that rock?…oh god the sea must be getting to him.

“I don’t see how sailors manage”

Gaz diverts his gaze to the passing soap, walking by and across the ship watching the other end- like what he was supposed to be doing but something felt off he couldn’t explain it, it all felt weird like bugs churning around in his stomach. He’d just cut it down to the waves giving him motion sickness.

“Are you gonna make it there gaz?”

He nearly jumps when ghost sneaks up on him standing behind him with his mask on letting his gaze pierce through the other male.

“You shouldn’t be so damn quiet- you’re gonna give someone a heart attack these days”

“Relax, I was just gonna ask if ye wanted to swap tasks- ye go to the lower deck N’ keep an eye out”

The man’s British accent creeping through his words only making Gaz sigh and nod, making his way down to the empty deck, his body felt a reaction the closer he got to the waters almost like something compelling him forwards. When the rock he had seen earlier came into view he could’ve sworn he saw a man with H/C hair laying there with a deep blue webbed ear. Before he knew it he felt his chest ache at that sight- why did he feel so much need over a man that probably was a figment of his lonesome imagination.

He leans against the rails, blinking once and frowning when he sees nothing on the rock, he almost feels sadness as the disappearance but before he can mourns it a hand is placed up on the ship from the loading area a few feet from him.

“Who’s there?!”

His voice rings empty in the fog, you slip your way up onto the deck while laying sprawled with a little grin. Tilting your head over almost like a curious cat— you weren’t used to not having your tail but you’d make having legs work. Gaz was practically lovestruck standing in his military gear and yet he felt just as defenseless as a common man before a gun.

“Aren’t you just a mean one?”

Your voice was angelic and he knew that you knew that, the way you slithered up on the deck like some serpent ready for its mean had him in a state of pure lust looking at you— Gaz was a weak man and the years of solitude without touch only made him weaker. Your prime prey, you liked a sweet man who was good at heart but had desperation— you could feed off the lust in his eyes alone.

Gaz started approaching you almost in a trance but you haven’t even used your song on him yet, this was pure free will.

“What the hell are you— a damn talking fish?”

“I’m not a damn fish— I’ll have you know I’m a siren”

You hiss your words at him growing irritated with it all, reaching your hand out to grasp hold of the man and pull him down with you having him beneath you on the deck. your body nude and cold from the see, your cock pressed flat down on your thighs while you click your tongue slowly tracing your cold fingers over his skin, humming your own siren song.

“Fuck, what the hell are you doing”

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me, everyone wants me.”

Your hands grip his shoulders speaking statements not questions, your cock was stiffening up when his bulge pressed to your plush cheeks almost giving it a friendly greeting making you push back down against his clothed member, Gaz’s hands roam down grabbing your hips instinctively gripping at the flesh with vigor while he stares up at you in a glossy eyed trance watching how your hands slid off his shoulder down his vest and to his cargo pants, pulling them down with a thud when you undo his tack belt letting it fall on the deck.

Your nails were sharp and pointed leaving chills on his thighs when your nails graze over the tip of his cock having it all wet and coated in pre cum when you finally get it out of his boxers. Your eyes narrow slightly glowing under the dim fog of the late noon sky, the ship rocking back and forth against the waves having Gaz feeling completely under your spell when you hum against his ear and press your lips to the side of his neck.

“God you’re…”

He wanted to say so many things in that moment but his lips quivered and stopped, all men acted that way— you couldn’t count the number of sailors who uttered those exact words to you. Gaz felt different you didn’t want to lure him into a seductive demise, you actually wanted him all for yourself.

“I already knoww~”

you hush him silently with your lips pressed to his Adam’s apple rubbing your sharp teeth to the flesh feeling tempted to just take a bite out of him. Your hand plays with his cock stroking the base and rubbing your thumb flush against the under side of his tip, right where you knew it was most sensitive.

“O-h fuck you’re good at this”

Kyle’s moan comes out strangled like a half laugh when he takes a gulp for the first time in his military years feeling nervous by something that looks so frail, your skin practically glowed sticky from the salt in the sea having your damp body in his lap feeing your bare ass on his thighs making his half lidded eyes just stare at it, he only looks away when he feels the sharp pain in his neck— you just bit him?

“Mhm, you just taste good enough to eat”

“Oh fuuck”

His groan just make you smile having his blood over your teeth like a fresh candy coating making your slit pupils dilate, licking up the blood off his neck leaving him with the mark of a siren when you aim his cock between your wet cheeks, grinning at his expression when his eyes clamp shut from the cold feel of your skin pressing to his manhood. You rock your hips back and forth letting go of his cock and reaching up to his jaw and gripping it tight while you lay hunched over him pressing your bitter and blue lips to his mouth kissing him- making him taste his blood off your tongue while he lays on his back on the deck.

“You want this so bad don’t you?”

“…yes…”

He mumbles mindlessly under you just staring you blankly in the eyes, his lips sloppily responding to yours with your cock standing barely stiff leaning a small pearl of pre cum with your blue webbed ears looking almost like a fin when they flick back and forth in satisfaction. His cock head rubbing between your cheeks and all up and down your crack rubbing against your twitchy ring of muscles.

“Tell me you want inside me- tell me now”

“…I want you, I wanna be inside you so bad”

Your mouth nibbles at his neck some more littering it in red marks having blood smears on his skin while his hips buck up under you making you let go of his jaw when he hisses from how your nails dug into his skin. Gaz presses into you slowly pushing his way inside of your vice, being a siren producing pheromones and natural lubricant around your rim, your holes weee designed to take— you were a being of lust- a Adonis of sex in every way but the name.

“Fuckin, please-“

If it wasn’t for how desperate Gaz was in this moment he may have passed out of humiliation, he hated the way his voice cracked when he begged for you sitting desperate with his cock half inside you prodding its way into the bunny tavern trying to spread and spear you open on his dick, you sit in his lap having your mouth latched on his feeling his moans muffled by your tongue when you bite on his bottom lip leaving little drops of blood mixing into the shared spit.

“Think you may be the biggest man I’ve taken in a very long time sailor”

You lift your hips up and slowly lower them back down on him while you let your hand find its way to his shoulders digging your nails through his gear and clawing a hole in the back of his shirt leaving marks on his rich skin. Your rim milks out the pre cum from his mushroomed head having his hands trembling on your hips while he pushes his spit down your throat.

“I’m not a damn sailor— I’m a captain”

His words come out strangled beneath you when he pulls his lips, tearing them away only to gasp for air. Your nails dig harder letting out soft moans when his cock rubs your prostate just right making you feel warm shrills up your spine having you feeling in a state of euphoria when you ride the man.

Your eyes creep back and you grow slicker around his cock taking it with ease, Gaz lets out heaved gasps beneath you. Not having fucked anything in a few solid years due to his job, his orgasm is on edge but he does his best to hold back not wanting to come too quick but boy if your insides weren’t practically begging it out of him right now.

“Stop or I’ll—“

Before he can even finish his sentence your hand creeps up off his back and over his mouth hushing his groans when you feel his cock start pulsing inside you reaching his high and flooding your insides with his semen leaving a warm feeling inside your ice cold body.

“Now you’re gonna be good and help me get off right?”

“Y-yes ofcourse”

He nods his head when you hum your song to him not even giving him time to come down from his orgasm when you remove your hand off his mouth and reach to the hand off your hips when you guid it down to your hardened cock, letting out a hiss when he touches the base. Gaz slowly starts stroking your cock and giving it a firm touches under your tip.

He starts stroking your cock a little faster gripping the base with your cock leaking a mess in his palm having you instinctively pushing your hips back down on his cock with the semen inside

“I’m getting close”

Gaz starts stroking your cock faster making you arch your back getting closer to edge with his hand snaking off your hips to your ass giving it a squeeze in time with his strokes. Pre cum starts oozing drink you all down your shaft making a mess when your voice cracks and your orgasm rushes over you, you grip his shoulders tight with your

“Oh fuck—“

“What is it fishy? You’re actin like this is your first orgasm”

You sneer down at him frowning when he says that, ropes of thin liquid shoots from your tip leaving stains on his gear. Your chest raises and falls rapidly practically glowing with your eyes rolling forwards to look down at him under you, sitting on top of him on the ship, you slowly raise up off of Gaz, semen starts oozing out of you and onto the ships deck, your rim twitches all puffy.

Before Garrick could even say anything to you, you were gone. The water flashed and it was like you were an imagination? Your figure lurked under the water then disappeared into the fog, sirens were never known to stick to one prey forever.

“Gaz? Mate what’re you doin?!”

There stood a flabbergasted soap, his mouth agape standing next to price with their eyes focused on a ruin captain kyle Garrick ‘Gaz’ laying covered in come with his pants around his ankles laying on his back, his cock limp and his eyes lidded clearly worn out.

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

Girl I have so many questions about your story it’s actually ridiculous!

(I don’t want to overwhelm you though so imma hold back)

is reader becoming a snake person a reference to snakes preying on bats and birds?( and will the snake being joker’s be important?)

Is Tiffany going to have to put effort into pretending she’s the ✨perfect sister✨ now that reader obviously isn’t going to do jack for them anymore? (Because ungrateful families don’t deserve muffins 😒)

Is reader going to be a hero or villain, or maybe something in between?

will we be able to get an idea of why the batfam treats reader like they’re some sort of pest?( you’d think they’d be more careful since reader could easily expose their identities if they thought about it 😒😒)

and finally.

Tim had a very…different…reaction to reader ‘framing’ Tiffany- is that important?

-🚚

yay ok this is my first like real ask! Yall have been making me so so happy with all the love! It really encourages me! And don't worry about overwhelming me! I can take it :) i'm answering this and then signing off to go to bed because I have the worst flu ever.

Ok so yes! Reader becoming a snake-meta-person does have to do with snakes preying on birds, honestly that was a little easter egg for funsies. Im glad you caught it! reader's gonna eat those hoes up !!!!!!! ( and they'll lock her up right after)

Tiffany will for sure try to imitate reader at first but that will eventually lead to her downfall! she can only keep it up for 6 months and then she'll be discovered. she can't imitate the genuine love and care reader puts into these things so they'll always be off no matter how much she tries. the batfam will end up realizing what they lost and do whatever it takes to get it back.

And yes, the snake being the Joker's will be important bc he's the joker and is so fucking insane that even his snake has to be special! all powers have consequences and these will be heavy. it will put reader through it, but will really shape them as a person.

Im leaning more toward reader being a hero??? but with the snake being literally radioactive it might be a kinda venom dynamic. im still not too sure tbh. with all the angst and neglect and the troubles of being a teen, she might be a bit of an anti-hero! she might pull a jason (ironic, i know) and go around killing all the villians!

the thing about the batfam, is that they don't even realize what they're doing to the reader. they literally see her as irrelevant so they don't notice their neglect or how much it affects reader. she's not even on their minds enough to be perceived as a threat. the only ones purposefully being mean are Damian and Jason, Damian because he sees reader as less than/ a threat and Jason because he is trying to push the reader out his life and not 'taint' her innocence.

Tim's reaction is different because he's suspicious. he thinks he would've noticed if reader was capable of doing something so sneaky and underhanded. he's the only one who is suspicious because he simply doesn't think she's smart enough to do this. he's gonna be the first to see Tiff's true colors.

Goodnight yall!!! i'll be back tmrw morning! keep sending more asks! I take requests so if you have any ideas you want me to write just send them in! I'll yandere platonic or romanitc. SEND THEM IN!!!!!!!!

[maretinelli]

TURNS FROM THE PAST

Oscar Piastri X Engineer!fem!reader

Summary: Y/n and Oscar Piastri were once young lovers, but the pressure of racing and the distance between them tore them apart. Years later, they meet again when Y/n is hired as a Mechanical Engineering Assistant for McLaren. The tension between what once was and what is now puts them both to the test, as past feelings begin to resurface.

Words: 7K+

Warnings: Mentions of breakups, bottled up feelings, mentions of mechanical engineering jobs, and happy endings.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any mistakes that may be in the story. And I think the best way to write for pilots is to have the protagonist be an engineer hahaha I love it, you know.

MASTERLIST

The McLaren HQ boardroom was buzzing with activity. Engineers, strategists and the two drivers, Oscar Piastri and Lando Norris, were gathered together, listening intently to Zak the team boss as he discussed the second half of the season. The team boss was keen to stress the importance of staying focused and consistent.

However, before closing, he made an announcement that caught everyone's attention even more.

"I want to take this opportunity to talk about something historic for our team," Zak began, with an excited smile. "For the first time, we will have a female mechanical engineer working with us in the races. She will be an assistant for now, but based on her resume, I am fully confident that in a few years she could become one of the team's chief engineers."

The comment drew murmurs of approval and enthusiasm from around the room. Lando was the first to speak up.

"This is amazing! It's about time we had more brilliant women around here. I can't wait to meet our new engineer."

Oscar chuckles softly, knowing how Lando was around women.

"Lando, Lando!!" Oscar says singing to his friend who was in front of him and makes the team laugh.

"Hey! I'm really excited. This is a historic moment for the team." He kicks Oscar's leg under the table and smiles. Oscar glares at him for the kick and laughs at the comment.

"She'll be joining us in the races, starting now in the second part of the season," Zak continued. "She recently graduated from university. And her name is Y/n...!" He turned a sheet of paper in his hand, to make sure he got her last name right. "That's right, Y/n Vanpelt!"

Oscar's smile fell. He could feel time stopping.

The name echoed through the room. To everyone else, it was just the name of a new classmate. But to Oscar, it was like he was in a dream. He froze in his chair. Y/n VanPelt. His Y/n. Or rather, the Y/n who used to be his.

Images from the past flashed through Oscar’s mind: the trips to the junior teams, her in the pits cheering him on, the quiet moments they shared when they were together. The memory of how they had ended came back to him like a punch, even though the end had been amicable. Still, the void she had left was never filled.

"Dude, what's up?" Lando asked quietly, leaning forward in his chair across from Oscar. Noticing his friend's unusual silence.

Oscar blinked rapidly, coming back to reality.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just... thinking. It's great to have another engineer on the team."

But it wasn't all right. His heart was pounding, and he could barely concentrate on what Zak was saying as he talked more about her.

It was then that a knock on the door interrupted the meeting. The door opened, and there she was.

Y/n walked into the room wearing the McLaren uniform, the papaya t-shirt that looked like it was made just for her. Oscar could hardly believe how she looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

The years hadn’t dulled her shine. On the contrary, it seemed as if life had only enhanced what was already perfect. How could she transform even a work outfit into something so charming?

"Guys, I'm sorry I'm late for the meeting," she said with a light, genuine smile, the same smile Oscar remembered so well. "I got lost around here."

The room laughed, breaking the formality.

Y/n took a few more steps, not yet realizing he was there.

"Zak has probably already introduced me, but my name is Y/n Vanpelt and I'll be joining you for a few years as a mechanical engineering assistant at the races." She smiled, and Zak spoke again to emphasize again how happy he was to have her on the team.

It was then that her eyes met Oscar's. For a second, time seemed to stop again.

Oscar felt his heart race in his chest, almost as if he were on the starting grid. It was as if everything he had kept deep down for years was coming to the surface all at once. Yin froze for a moment. It was him. Oscar. The boy she had loved when she was younger, who she had watched grow up and who had supported him as he pursued his dreams.

The man she left behind but could never completely forget.

"Y/n will be working directly with Norris' car and its engineers, but of course, in times of need, she can also be called upon to assist with Piastri's car. This will be great for her initial learning and to get to know the dynamics of racing better."

Y/n nodded politely, maintaining a calm smile.

She had known since she accepted McLaren's offer that Oscar was part of the team. She had mentally prepared herself for it, but nothing had prepared her for the overwhelming feeling of seeing him again, there, in the same room, after so many years.

She adjusted the smile on her face, trying to hide any emotion. Luckily, no one seemed to notice. No one except Oscar. He continued to glance at her, and that small but familiar smile brought back memories he had tried so hard to push to the back of his mind.

Zak, oblivious to what was happening between the two, ended the meeting on an upbeat note.

"So, everyone, let's welcome Y/n! I'm sure she'll be a valuable addition to the team."

The engineers and strategists began to stand, some already going to greet her. Lando was one of the first, of course. He approached with a warm smile, extending his hand.

"Welcome, Y/n! It's great to have you here. I hope you can keep my car ahead of Oscar." He joked and got a few laughs from everyone around.

She laughed at the comment and thanked him for the welcome. "Thank you, Norris."

"Oh, you can call me Lando. We'll be working together now." He smiles friendly.

"Of course, Lando!"

Lando turned, clearly pleased with the first interaction, and looked to the side, expecting to see Oscar nearby.

"Hey, Oscar, come tell me..." He stopped mid-sentence when he realized his teammate was no longer there.

Y/n, curious, followed Lando's gaze, only to notice Oscar outside the room, walking down the hallway that was visible through the glass wall. He left discreetly, without drawing attention, but she saw him.

For a brief moment, her eyes locked onto him again, and a small smile escaped before she could stop herself.

Not wanting to show anything, Y/n turned her attention to the people around her, greeting the engineers and other team members who approached to welcome her.

•••••••••••••••••••••

It was Y/n's first time participating in a Grand Prix as an engineering assistant, and despite the typical Belgian cold, she felt an internal warmth, a mixture of anxiety and excitement.

I was in the McLaren garage, talking to Lando and three engineers about the final adjustments to his car.

"If something goes wrong, I'll only blame you, Y/n," Lando teased, winking at her.

She laughed.

"No pressure then. I'll make sure you at least get past Q1."

The engineers around them laughed, and Lando shook his head, clearly enjoying her sense of humor. Y/n felt more and more comfortable with the team, and the lightheartedness of the employees made it easy.

After they finished discussing the last details, she said goodbye to the group and left the garage. I felt like I needed a moment to breathe before the adrenaline of qualifying started. He decided to go to the team hospitality to get something hot.

Tea always helped her calm down.

When she entered the VIP room, she expected to find the seat empty, but instead she saw Oscar there, sitting near the window, looking out. He seemed to be enjoying a moment of peace before the hustle and bustle began.

He noticed her presence and turned his head towards the door. Their eyes met, and they both smiled, but the silence that followed was heavy, laden with things unsaid.

Y/n hesitated, but walked in, trying to look natural as she walked to the table where the tea options were. She was about to say something when Oscar finally broke the silence.

"Hey, Y/n..." He began, his voice calm but with a hint of nervousness. Piastri stood up and took a few steps towards her. "I'm sorry I didn't welcome you back at the meeting. I...I had something to take care of."

It was a lie, of course. But he didn't know how to admit that he had been taken aback by seeing her again.

Oscar held out his hand to her, his eyes fixed on hers. "But really, I'm so glad you're here. Welcome to McLaren."

Y/n smiled, squeezing his hand firmly.

"Thank you, Piastri. It's good to see you again."

When he heard her call him Piastri, Oscar felt a tightness in his chest, as if the sound of that name, so impersonal, created an abyss between them.

He was so used to hearing nicknames like Osc - Love - Darling - Sweetie. That Piastri seemed wrong coming from her voice.

The use of his last name was a painful reminder that they were now just colleagues, far removed from what they had once been. He kept the smile on his face, but inside, that word echoed, carrying an unexpected weight.

Y/n smiles and returns her focus to the hot water of her tea. The small physical contact between them made her heart beat fast inside her ribcage.

"So, how... how are you?" Oscar asked, his voice softer now. "How's life? I mean, in general."

She glances quickly at Oscar and then looks back at her cup.

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm adapting to the new city where I bought my apartment, but it's good to have changes, isn't it?" She smiles. "I'm enjoying working here, even though...even though it's strange." She pauses and laughs awkwardly. "Strange because I used to run in the past, you know, but from a different perspective."

Oscar smiles and feels a pain invade his chest: Racing was also the reason for their breakup. And now, look, they both work with it and on the same team.

"And how are your parents?"

Y/n looks up, caught off guard. "Oh, they...they're doing well. Their jobs are pretty hectic, working at the CBI is tough though." She chuckles softly. "But they're doing really well. Really proud of me being here, you know how they are. Vanpelt being Vanpelt."

Oscar nodded, a slight smile forming on his lips.

"I'm glad. I've always liked them a lot."

Y/n felt her heart tighten. It was impossible not to remember how he was part of her family, how they spent four years together, from the beginning of his career to a part in Formula 2.

So many shared memories, so many conversations about dreams and fears. So many nights when she would wake up in the middle of the night to drink water and see Oscar in the living room talking to his father. Laughter, jokes and funny conversations were shared between father-in-law and son-in-law.

She looks away at the clock on the wall and sighs. "Well, I should get going... I need to help some more engineers with the cars." She drinks the rest of her tea. "Good luck qualifying!"

Oscar smiles and thanks her, following her with his eyes until she disappears from the room.

He felt his heart pounding and tears threatening to fall. The pilot raised his head a little, trying to make the tears come back. He sighed heavily and then went down to the garage too, he had to be in the car in a few minutes.

Hours passed, and the McLaren garage was in high spirits. Lando was on the track, qualifying. While Oscar was at the back of the garage, anxiously waiting for his turn.

Y/n had her headphones on, leaning on a bench as she looked at the monitors and saw data from Lando's car and how he was doing on the track.

"He's losing a bit of time in the medium corners. He could be in the top 5 in qualifying, but if we make this change he could get some hate tomorrow!" Y/n commented, pointing to the graphs. "Maybe tweaking the rear suspension setup a bit could help maintain more stability."

The engineers exchanged quick glances and nodded, already reviewing the settings.

"Sure!! We'll do it when he arrives!" Says one of the older engineers, writing on a tablet and smiling.

Y/n turned her gaze to the graphs and tables on the monitors. From afar, Oscar admired her.

It was fascinating to him to see how Y/n was in control, shining as an assistant, even in such a competitive environment. He saw her speaking with confidence, pointing out technical details that only someone with true passion and dedication would notice.

The way she interacted with the other engineers, how they seemed to respect her, made Oscar proud, but it also made his chest tighten.

When Lando returned to the pits, she waited for him next to the car with an encouraging smile. The driver takes off his helmet and Y/n smiles, patting him on the back.

"Hey, very good! Top 5 huh!" Lando smiles and pats her on the back as well. "You're in fifth place for now, but I doubt the next teams will be able to overtake you."

Lando smiles. "Hey, thanks. You're doing a great job here. You might even steal one of their jobs!" He turns playfully and points to his engineers.

They laugh.

Y/n walked back to the main dashboard, where the charts and graphs of Oscar's car were already starting to update. She adjusted her headset, trying to stay focused on the data, but it was impossible to ignore the familiarity of that name flashing on the screen: Oscar Piastri.

Her heart beat a little faster. Working so closely with Oscar was affecting her more than she cared to admit.

When Oscar appeared in the garage, ready to get into the car, Y/n was organizing the equipment next to his seat. He walked past her and, for a moment, it seemed like time stood still.

"Here..." She said, picking up the helmet beside her and handing it to him. Their fingers brushed lightly, and their eyes met for seconds that felt like minutes.

Oscar thanked him with a slight smile, his voice low. "Thank you."

They continued to stare at each other, a mix of tension and familiarity hovering between them. Y/n felt heat rise to her face, but didn't look away immediately, while he also seemed reluctant to break eye contact.

Lando, who was removing his gloves near the side of the car, noticed. He raised an eyebrow, noting the way they seemed trapped in that moment. It was subtle, but enough to be noticed. Lando didn't say anything, just went back to what he was doing, but a slight smile appeared on his lips.

He thought Oscar was into the new engineer. Not that they dated in the past.

Y/n composed herself, finally breaking contact and taking the wheel of Piastri's car, while he himself put on the balaclava.

When he got into the car, Y/n put the steering wheel and looked at Oscar, who had his visor up. Their gazes held for a while longer.

"Good luck, Piastri!"

"Thank you, Y/n." She sees him smile under his helmet and then lowers the visor.

The engine roared as he started and pulled out of the garage, leaving Y/n behind, feeling her heart beat wildly.

Oscar was on the track, completing his fast laps as the thunderous sound of the engine cut through the air of the circuit. In the garage, Y/n was focused on the graphics that flashed on the monitor, showing the data of his car in real time.

She analyzed every detail: the temperature of the tires, the speed on the straights, the behavior of the car on the curves.

Chatting briefly with the engineers around her, suggesting small adjustments to the front wing and differential. Her posture was serious, but there was a sparkle in her eyes—she was completely immersed in her work, as if every detail was part of a puzzle she loved solving.

As soon as the car returned to the garage, Oscar stepped out of the cockpit, removing his helmet with quick movements. He looked around, visibly anxious to know his position.

One of the engineers approached with a smile. "Sixth place, Oscar. A great lap."

Oscar breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, running his hand through his sweat-dampened hair. He was satisfied, although he was already starting to think about what he could improve for the next day.

Across the garage, Y/n watched the scene. When Oscar's eyes briefly turned to her, she smiled genuinely, that encouraging smile she always had, even in the old days.

"Good job, Piastri. Sixth place is a great starting point," she commented, her tone light but firm.

Oscar smiled back, still holding his helmet. "Thank you, dear." He said quietly, but Y/n could read his lips.

•••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n was already adapting to the exhausting routine and intense environment at McLaren. She got along well with the team, her technical knowledge and dedication were already being recognized, but whenever she had to interact with Oscar, the tension would set in again.

She knew he was handling the situation impeccably, maintaining professionalism in every exchange of words, but it was impossible not to notice the lingering glances or the pauses between responses.

It was as if they were both constantly treading on an emotional minefield, where any slip-up could bring to light the past they both avoided.

And even though the breakup ended with them being friendly. No fighting, arguing or finger pointing, just saying what would be best for them at the moment, the tension of seeing the love of their life in front of them again was overwhelming.

It was like reliving memories they had never been able to erase, even after so many years. They missed each other. A lot, a lot.

While Y/n was adjusting Lando's graphics, one of the engineers asked her to get some equipment from the back of the garage.

Walking back, still remembering the numbers she needed to analyze, she hurriedly turned the corner and bumped into someone. The force of the impact almost made her drop what she was holding, but it was the familiar face that made her gasp.

Oscar stood there, equally surprised. He reflexively grabbed her arm, helping her steady herself. For a moment, they both stood still, their eyes fixed on each other. And then it dawned on Piastri.

She still wore the necklace he had given her as a gift, with his first salary as a pilot. The jewel was silver, delicate with small red hearts. Simple, but with great emotional impact.

Oscar felt his heart squeeze. But it was out of love, he could feel his heart beating so fast because of how much love he still had for her.

They stood still, their eyes fixed on each other, as if there was a silent conversation going on between them, full of words neither of them had the courage to say out loud.

Oscar swallowed hard, trying to shake off the whirlwind of emotions that hit him. He forced a smile, his voice slightly teasing.

"In a dream world, as always, huh?"

Y/n blinked, snapping out of her own trance. She laughed, embarrassed, adjusting her necklace almost unconsciously.

"And you're still the most distracted driver off the track. You should be watching where you're going too," Oscar smiled, chuckling softly at the comment.

They exchanged one more look, and then Y/n muttered an "Excuse me" before walking past him and heading back to her station.

Lando, who was nearby, watched the scene from afar. He frowned, curious. As soon as he got the chance, he crouched down next to Y/n, lowering his voice so that no one else would hear.

"What's going on between you two? Ever since you arrived, you could cut the tension in the air with a knife."

Y/n looked at him, pretending to be confused, and laughed softly. "Nothing, Lando. We're acting completely normal."

"Normal?" Lando arched his eyebrows, a mischievous smile appearing. "This is far from normal. There's something going on. Feelings, tension... I don't know."

She choked on the words, looking at him in surprise. "Lando, it's nothing like that. I swear."

"Oh, really? Then why do you two look like shy teenagers every time you're in the same room?" He tilted his head, waiting for an answer.

Y/n defeated, drops her tablet on the table and looks at Lando, with an expression like she was about to tell him everything. "Okay, okay. We... dated... For four years."

Lando's eyes widened, surprise written all over his face. "FOUR YEARS? You were together for four years and you're saying it's no big deal?"

"Shh! Keep your voice down!" Y/n looked around to make sure no one else was listening. "It's no big deal now. It was a thing...of the past."

No, it wasn't just one thing and it wasn't just in the past.

Lando laughed in disbelief. "You still love each other, trust me."

Before she could respond, he raised his hands in surrender and returned to his seat, leaving Y/n to stare uncomfortably at the monitors.

She drummed her fingers on the table, thinking about it. Her eyes were fixed on the data tables of Oscar's car.

Time passed, and the Monza Grand Prix race was already underway. Everyone in the McLaren garage had their eyes fixed on the big screen and the engineers on the graphs and numbers that the drivers' cars were transmitting.

Y/n was helping with both Lando's and Oscar's cars. She had her headphones on, but could only hear the instructions from Lando's engineers.

As he analyzed the data on the monitors, he noticed Oscar's engineers beginning to fidget. They were talking rapidly into the radio, trying to deal with something urgent.

Curious, Y/n took off her headphones and approached the group. "What's going on?"

One of the engineers explained that they were dealing with overheating brakes, something that could force Oscar to abandon the race if it wasn't fixed quickly. She frowned, thinking of a solution.

"We can adjust the air intake to increase cooling. It will be risky, but it could work until the end of the race."

The engineers exchanged glances before nodding. They quickly radioed Oscar into the pits.

"Hey, could I adjust the data?" She asks shyly, to one of the chief engineers of Oscar's car. He smiles kindly.

"Sure, sure! Feel free."

Y/n excuses herself and thanks her, before sitting in front of the panels and starting typing numbers and formulas to change the data.

She saw Oscar's car pull into the garage, and within 2 seconds he was gone, heading back to the track. She was still sitting near the dashboard of his car, and as one of the Australian's engineers walked by, she turned with a smile, peeling off her nail polish before gently asking,

"Could...could I follow the charts here? Just...just in case." It was a professional excuse, but deep down, she knew she wanted to be closer to Oscar.

"Yes, yes. I'll get you a headset."

She felt grateful. Then she took the headphones that one of them gave her and made herself more comfortable, watching the numbers and data that Oscar's car updated every second. Her heart was beating faster than it should have, but she forced herself to stay focused.

It was just work, she repeated to herself.

But being there, watching the numbers that reflected her ex-boyfriend's performance on the track and hearing his voice on the radio from time to time, brought a feeling that was hard to ignore.

Even so, Y/n concentrated, mentally noting small adjustments that could be useful, knowing that she couldn't let her emotions interfere. But, deep down, being there, so close to him and at the same time so far away, was more difficult than she imagined.

Halfway through the race, as the cars slid down the track, Y/n noticed something unusual on Oscar's graphs. Some of the data was out of the ordinary, and she frowned, analyzing the information quickly.

"Something's wrong here," she muttered, attracting the attention of one of the engineers. "Can you tell Piastri about this? He needs to adjust-"

Before he could finish, the engineer smiled encouragingly. "Why don't you speak yourself? You can use the radio. It's faster."

She blinked in surprise. “Me?” Her voice sounded more nervous than she would have liked. Her heart immediately raced, but she hid it by nodding firmly. “Okay. I can do that.”

Y/n adjusted the microphone, taking a deep breath as she gathered her courage. After all, it was just work, nothing more.

Her voice controlled, she spoke into the radio, professional but with a slight hesitation: "Piastri, this is Y/n. I'm seeing something on the graphs. If you could adjust the rear differential slightly for the next corner, it should help with stability. Got it?"

And there was the last name again. She had been working with them for four races, and whenever she talked to Oscar or referred to him, Piastri was the name. It made the younger driver feel crushed and on the verge of tears.

On the other side, there was a brief but meaningful silence. Oscar was so focused that for a moment his mind was lost when he heard that voice.

In Y/n's voice. Your beloved, Y/n.

He didn't expect this, and for a moment he stopped paying attention to the next turn, feeling a different warmth spread through his chest.

"Plasters? Do you understand?"

"Oh, yes, yes. Understood. I'll make the adjustment now. Thanks for the suggestion."

He knew he was supposed to sound casual, but the slight pause in his response gave away the impact of that interaction.

On the other side, Y/n just breathed a sigh of relief, focusing on the numbers again, while trying to ignore the sound of her own heart, which seemed as loud as the roar of the cars on the track.

The race ended with a mixture of tension and joy in the McLaren garage. Oscar crossed the line in second place and Lando in first, securing their places on the podium.

The team burst into celebration, but Y/n, even smiling at the result, preferred to remain in the background, busy analyzing the final data and updating graphs. She did not go to the podium.

Not that she wasn't happy, but because she thought it was better to stay focused on work - or at least that's what she told herself.

As the minutes ticked by, Y/n kept herself busy, but she couldn't help but feel flashes of happiness as she remembered how her advice had helped ensure that outcome. Deep down, she felt proud, but she didn't want to stand out. It was her job, after all.

After stepping down from the podium, still with his racing suit half open and his hair damp with champagne, Oscar walked back to the garage. He looked tired, but radiant. As soon as he spotted Y/n in the back, his smile softened, and he walked over to her.

"You were amazing today," he began, stopping a few feet away from her. "Seriously, that suggestion on the radio... it was crucial. I wouldn't have made it to the podium without it. Thank you, Y/n."

She looked up from her charts, surprised by his direct gratitude. A shy smile played on her lips. "I was just doing my job, Oscar. But I'm glad it helped."

Finally she hadn't used the driver's last name. Oscar. The name itself made the McLaren driver's heart race.

Oscar's gaze softened even further, and for an instant, the world around them seemed to disappear.

They stared at each other, as if there was something unsaid, something that only they understood. There was an intense emotional charge to the connection that they both thought they had left in the past, but which was still very much alive.

Before anyone could say anything, a voice called Oscar to the media appointments. He sighed, lowering his head to hide it, before smiling again at Y/n.

"Thank you once again... My sunshine." The word came out softly, almost like a whisper.

The nickname he used when they were dating made Y/n's heart race. She stood frozen, watching as he walked away, his hand sliding briefly and gently over her shoulder, a touch almost imperceptible, but full of meaning.

As soon as he disappeared from sight, Y/n stood there, motionless. The nickname echoed in her mind, along with the memory of everything they had shared in the past. Her heart clenched, and tears began to well up in her eyes. She took a deep breath, struggling to maintain her composure.

Then one of the engineers called out to her, bringing her back to reality. She quickly wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand and adjusted her posture before turning around and answering. She went back to work as if nothing had happened, but inside, she knew something had changed.

The noise of the rush had finally died down, and the garage was nearly empty. Only a few people were still working, dismantling equipment or organizing tools.

Y/n was sitting on a counter, her feet dangling as she typed on the computer the modifications she had made to the cars during the race. With her headphones playing music, she was immersed in her own bubble, focused on her work and oblivious to the rest of the environment.

Oscar entered the garage silently. He watched Y/n for a moment, her face illuminated by the laptop screen, her hair falling lightly over her eyes as she typed. A small smile appeared on his lips at the sight of her so focused.

He walked up to her and, without saying anything, placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump slightly in surprise.

She looked up at him and smiled shyly before taking off her headphones. "Hi," she said, still a little surprised to see him there.

"Hi!" He replied with a small smile, before pulling out one of the high-backed engineer stools and sitting across from her.

He made a casual comment about the race, something about how second place was a good result, and she responded with a smile, closing her laptop as she nervously bounced her feet.

His eyes fixed on his own sneakers, avoiding direct eye contact.

Silence settled between them, heavy with something they could both feel but neither knew how to break. Finally, Oscar took a deep breath and asked, his voice low and careful.

"Can I talk to you?"

She looked at him, surprised, but nodded slowly. "Sure. It's okay."

Piastri hesitated for a moment, running a hand through his hair before continuing. "It's about... about us, actually."

The surprise in Y/n's eyes was evident, but she kept her tone calm. "You can talk," she said, trying to ignore the lump that was starting to form in her throat.

Oscar looked at her, his eyes reflecting emotions he rarely expressed. "What was it like for you... the breakup?"

Y/n felt her heart sink. She took a deep breath, gathering the courage to answer. "It was hard," she began, her voice cracking. "Really hard. But I knew that... that at the time it was what needed to be done. We were both on such different paths, and it was all so complicated." A lone tear escaped, but she ignored it, focusing on what she was saying. "It's still hard sometimes. Thinking about everything we've been through, how it felt so right, and yet..." Her voice trailed off, but she took a deep breath to continue. "It still didn't work out."

Oscar felt his chest tighten as he saw tears begin to form in her eyes. He was silent for a moment, processing her words, before finally confessing.

"And you?"

"For me, it was devastating. It was like... like I lost a part of myself. I tried to focus on work, but nothing seemed to make sense. I tried to move on, but... I think about you every day. Seeing you here now, every week, helps a little bit. It's like a part of me is whole again." He looked directly into her eyes, vulnerable. "It was painful, Y/n. Much more than I imagined it would be."

Y/n blinked rapidly, trying to hold back her tears, but they fell anyway. Oscar noticed and, without thinking twice, got up from the bench and approached her. He raised his hand hesitantly and, when he realized she wouldn't move away, he gently wiped the tears from her face.

"Sorry" the pilot said softly, his voice full of regret.

She gave a weak smile, knowing that was a characteristic of him. Always apologizing, even when it wasn't necessary. "You always apologize for everything, you know?" She said, her tone soft.

He laughs softly.

Before they could say anything else, someone came into the garage, announcing that the lights would be turned off in ten minutes. They both nodded, slightly embarrassed, coming back to the present.

Y/n closed her laptop and tucked it under her arm. Before leaving, she patted his shoulder lightly, smiling. "See you at the next race."

Oscar smiled at her, watching as she walked away down the driveway. Even after she was out of sight, he stood there for a few moments, feeling the weight and intensity of the conversation.

•••••••••••••••••••••

The weeks passed, and the end of the season was fast approaching. Between traveling, strategizing, and intense racing, Y/n and Oscar seemed to have found a rhythm amidst their constant coexistence.

In the moments spent together with the team, the jokes flowed, the laughter escaped naturally, and the tension of the past seemed almost forgotten. But when they found themselves alone, even briefly, Y/n felt her heart race, as if the control she was trying to maintain over her feelings was hanging by a thread.

In the quick glances and the small moments when their paths crossed, it was evident that the past was still there, alive in both of them.

Over the last few GPs, Y/n has started to focus more on Oscar's car, a natural move given his growing technical knowledge and his ability to analyze performance data in real time.

Lando noticed the change and was happy to see the closeness between the two. He didn't know the details of their past, but something in the way Oscar looked at Y/n and her smile when she answered was enough for him to silently root for the couple.

Now at the race in Brazil, Y/n was on Oscar's radio, following the car's graphs and data.

"Oscar, you're losing time in sector 2. You could try using the middle of the track more in turn 8 to gain stability on the exit."

Her voice was professional, calm, but Oscar felt a slight warmth when he heard it. He replied firmly, “Understood, I will adjust it.”

A few laps later, she spoke again: "Your pace is good, but watch out for rear tire wear. Slow down on the tighter corners."

Oscar responded with a light tone of humor, breaking the tension a little: "So, no exaggerations? Understood, boss."

Y/n smiled, even though he couldn't see it. "Exactly, no exaggeration. We're watching."

And then, on the last lap, Oscar crossed the finish line first.

The garage exploded in joy, screams and applause echoing throughout the space. Y/n felt tears start to form, a mixture of relief, pride and something deeper that she couldn't explain.

For the first time, Y/n followed the podium closely. He stood alongside the team, watching as Oscar lifted the trophy. He looked at the audience and saw her there, a little more comfortable in his presence, applauding along with the others and the tears were falling. The smile on Oscar's face seemed brighter at that moment.

Y/n returned to the garage before the excitement of the podium ended. She was gathering her things from a workbench, organizing papers and turning off the computer, while the adrenaline from the race still pulsed through her veins.

Oscar, stepping down from the podium, looked around, searching for her. He spotted Y/n in the background, almost hidden in the corner of the garage, and something in his chest tightened.

He didn't think; he just acted.

With firm steps, he left the first place trophy on the nearest table and walked straight towards her.

"Y/n!" His voice cut through the muffled sound of the conversations around them.

She turned at the sound of her name, a soft smile appearing on her face as she recognized the voice. But before she could say anything, Oscar was there, right in front of her. Without hesitation, he cupped her face with both hands and pulled her in for a kiss.

The world seemed to stop. The heat of his touch ran through Y/n's entire body, making her forget where she was. The kiss was full of accumulated feelings. longing, passion, relief, and a mix of all the things they never had the courage to say. For Oscar, it was like coming home; for Y/n, it was like finding something she didn't even know she was still looking for.

For a moment, they were lost in each other, feeling everything they had repressed for so long. Y/n's hands rose to his shoulders, while Oscar leaned in even closer, as if afraid she would slip away.

A passionate kiss with a taste of champagne.

When they finally separated, they were both panting, their foreheads almost pressed together. The look in Oscar's eyes was intense, and Y/n could barely process what had just happened.

Before they could say anything, a voice echoed through the garage. "Oscar! Come on, they're waiting for the interviews!" It was Lando, calling him from afar.

Oscar looked at Y/n, who was still stunned, and a smile played on his lips. "I'll be back. Wait for me, okay?"

And with that, he walked away, leaving Y/n there, her heart racing and her lips still tingling from the kiss.

Lando saw her smile as the girl leaned against the table, trying to absorb what had happened.

"Are you okay?" He asks with a laugh and Y/n looks up at her friend and teammate.

"We kissed!" She smiles.

Lando laughs and gives a thumbs up. "Great! I'm happy for you guys!" He sends her a sincere smile and walks away, laughing at his friend's silly comment.

After the kiss in the garage, Oscar's words still echoed in Y/n's mind: "I'll be back. Wait for me." She tried to focus on her work, but every detail seemed distant, as if the world around her was blurry.

As soon as he finished his tasks, he asked someone from the team to tell Oscar that he had already returned to the hotel.

Hours later, while relaxing in the hotel lobby, Y/n was enjoying the warm Brazilian breeze. She was in a casual conversation with some of the girls from the media team, trying to distract her mind and avoid thinking about the kiss.

It was then that she saw him.

Oscar walked through the front door with Lando, his confident posture contrasting with the slight blush that rose when he noticed Y/n.

Their eyes met, and he smiled, beckoning her with a subtle movement of his finger. Her heart skipped a beat.

Excusing herself from the girls, she walked towards him, feeling Lando's encouraging gaze, who soon headed towards the elevators, leaving the two alone.

Oscar smiled, his voice gentle as he asked, "Can we talk for a bit?"

She nodded with a shy smile, leading him hand in hand to the pool area, where the lights reflected on the water in an almost magical way. The soft sound of the water was a perfect contrast to the whirlwind of feelings inside her.

The air was warm, but Y/n felt butterflies in her stomach, as if she knew something important was about to happen.

Oscar broke the silence first. "I wanted to apologize for the kiss."

"You don't need to apologize. If I didn't want to, I wouldn't have continued." Her words brought visible relief to him.

"Y/n... I can't keep it in anymore. Ever since you showed up on the team, it all came back. I tried to ignore it, I tried to be professional, but... I can't. I still love you. I always have. All these years I thought that with time it would pass, but it didn't. And now, seeing you every week just showed me that it will never pass."

Y/n felt her eyes water, but she kept her gaze fixed on him. "Ouch... I know. I tried to convince myself that our story was over, that it was the best thing for both of us at the time.

But every time I see you, I realize I was wrong. Our love is not dead. I know that."

He took a step closer, his eyes shining in the pool lights. Slowly, Oscar lifted one hand and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, the gesture so simple yet so intimate.

"Our love will only die when we both die of old age."

She laughed passionately, and before she could respond, he leaned in and kissed her again. It was a different kiss, calmer, but full of promise and certainty. When they broke apart, they both had tears in their eyes and smiles on their lips.

"I love you, my sunshine." He said, his voice firm.

"I love you, love," she replied, her voice choked with emotion.

He held her hands gently. "I want to try again. Both of us. No matter what comes, I want to be by your side. Can we go back?"

Y/n nodded, tears streaming down her face as she smiled. "Yes, Osc. I want to go back. I want our story back."

They embraced, a gesture full of relief, love and hope. Under the lights of the hotel, with the soft sound of the pool and the Brazilian heat all around them, they knew they were taking the first step towards a new beginning.

This time, there was no doubt. What they had was real, strong, and meant to last.

[impish-baby]

A few glimpses into 'both arms cradle you now' reader's childhood in no particular order

"Why do birds suddenly appear evertime you are near.." The wet tears running down your cheeks are gently brushed away, whatever nightmare plaguing your sleep seems so far away now that your dad is here. "Just like me, they long to be close to you.." Damien hoists you into his arms, still humming that familiar lullaby as he carries you to the kitchen.

"Why do stars fall from the sky every time you walk by.." You're set on top of the counter, Damien ruffling your hair softly before walking over to the fridge to fetch a carton of milk. "Just like me.. they long to be.. close to you.." The warm glow of the stove makes the quiet night more cozy, the shadows along the walls retreating as well as any lingering fear.

You can feel you eyes start to droop, a small yawn leaving your lips making the man chuckle fondly. "One sec, ok? Daddy has some angel milk for you so you don't have anymore bad dreams, then we'll get you tucked back into bed."

-

"Do you want to hold him, sweetie?" Not really, but a nudge to your shoulder has you taking a reluctant step forward anyway. You're not sure how to feel about him, he's your dad's but not your mom's.

Mary scoots over a little so you can climb up on the hospital bed next to her, a tired but kind smile on her face. "Here, it's ok, you just need to make sure you're supporting his head.." She helps guide your arms into the right position, placing the tiny buddle into them, a pair of equally tiny disgruntled blue eyes soon staring up at you.

When you were first told that your stepmom was pregnant, you tried really really hard to just be happy for them. You promise. The sinking dread never went away though, no matter how much you berated yourself for feeling that way.

Babies are a blessing, but the announcement only cemented the fact that the world as you knew it was ending. Your dad isn't just your dad anymore. Even then, he hasn't acted like one to you in a while. Maybe you were just denying the inevitable.

"Ohh, I think he likes you.." Mary's head rests on your shoulder suddenly, distracting you from your sullen thoughts. "See? You're a natural with little ones!"

"He's glaring at me.."

She laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as she sits up. "No, he's just getting used to the world, darling. He loves you, he knows he has the best older sibling he could ask for."

-

"What's even the point?" You're both supposed to be sleeping even though it isn't a school night, Aunt Lisa is strict when it comes to things like that. What she doesn't know won't hurt her though.

"Because they look cool," Avery shrugs, carful of the fact you're currently snuggled under one of his arms. "And you get bragging points for catching them." You still don't get it, they're the same thing just a different color. "You've watched me play for like an hour, and now you're bored?"

"You were actually doing stuff before.." You huff, "You've been going around in a circle for fifteen minutes."

You scoff at his comment, now filled with spite to actually beat the game. You've barely moved an inch before the battle music plays, a black and purple pumpkaboo greeting you. "Oh, um..

"I

Well, excuse me," Avery sniffs playfully, "You play since I'm not entertaining enough." The console is handed over to you, the older boy simply holding you closer. "I bet you lose the first match you try."

"Huh?" Avery sighs, quickly pouting when he looks back at the screen. "Seriously? Damm, you're lucky." He pokes your cheek, "You catch it for me and I'll buy you some fries tomorrow."

-

"You're so annoying!"

With how hard you hit the ground, you know you're going to bruise. You weren't even talking, you just wanted to hang out with them.

"Seriously, who even wanted you to come over? I sure didn't!" No matter what you do, Lizzie doesn't like you. Doesn't matter if you're as friendly as can be or give her some space, you're always doing something wrong. "You're wasting good air, you know?"

"M' sorry, didn't mean to bother you." You won't cry, you're too old for that. "Liz-"

"You didn't mean to? Yeah, right!" Lizzie scoffs, kicking dirt into your face. Dust immediately stings your eyes. "You're a pest! No wonder everyone calls you bug, you're clingy like a tick, a parasite."

Your feeble attempt to rub the dirt away isn't really helping, you can barely hold your eyes open enough to look up at her. Miles isn't going to do anything to help either, silently supporting his sister.

"No wonder your dad left you! And your mom, she must be insufferable if you're her kid-"

You don't know when you managed to get up on your feet or when you grabbed a handful of Lizzie's hair. On the bright side, it makes her shut up.

"Hey!"

Your dad emerges from the house, miles trailing behind him. Of course.

"What has gotten into you?" You've let the older girl go at this point, she wasn't even crying until he came outside.

"Ow, dad.." Lizzie hides behind Damien, flashing you a smirk. "I wasn't even doing anything and they decided to be mean.."

Any inking of doubt you had evaporates in an instant. You don't have a dad anymore, you haven't in years.

"God.." He crosses his arms, the stern look would have made you wince if you weren't already shaking. "Don't even try to give me any excuses, Miles told me what happened. You can wait out here for your mom to pick you up since you can't behave yourself. I thought you knew better."

-

"Can you at least try to eat half, please?"

Your plate sits almost entirely untouched, having just been picked at over the course of dinner. Your mom's worried frown won't leave her face. "You're still a growing kid, I don't like how many meals you've tried to skip."

"I'm not hungry." You really aren't, there's always a nauseous feeling in your gut these days. "I'll eat a snack later, don't worry, mom."

"Baby.." She pinches the bridge of her nose and you feel a pang of guilt for how stressed she must be. "Please? For mommy? Or at least talk to me about what's going on.. i- it hurts seeing you so sad all the time."

What are you supposed to say to that?

Against your will, there's tears starting to drip down your cheeks. You don't think you've ever seen the women move so fast, her chair clattering to the floor in her rush to go to your side. "Oh, my baby.."

"I- I'm sorry.." For what you don't know, maybe the fact that she's stuck with you. "I- I'm so sorry, mom-"

"Oh, hush.." You're too big for her to carry, you both know, but she still scoops you into her arms. "There's nothing in the world you need to apologize to me for."

You sniffle, tucking your head under her chin. "I- I don't want to see dad anymore.. or.. or hear about him or-"

"Shhh.." She runs a hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe you, "you don't have to, alright? We'll figure it out. If that's what you want, you won't ever have to see him again."

(a/n: some ramblings while I start writing the second part to the series..reader will continue to go through it)

[yaminerua]

Kirsty: What are you doing out here? Have you been thinking again?

Jamie: Yes…

Kirsty: Who are you thinking about?

Jamie: “Who”?

Kirsty: The Doctor?

Jamie: How did you know?

Kirsty: … … Do you miss him?

Jamie: Why do you say that?

Kirsty: You dream about him a lot

Jamie: It doesn’t make any sense. I was only with him for a few hours, but…

Jamie: I keep thinking I knew him longer than I did. I feel it. I don’t remember though.

Kirsty: But you miss him anyway.

Jamie: Yes… Every day… All the time… I don’t know why…

Kirsty: Did you love him?

Kirsty: Do you still love him?

Jamie: … … I— I’m sorry, Kirsty…

Kirsty: Oh, don’t be sorry, Jamie. I knew

Jamie: I think I will miss him forever. I don’t remember him… but I know that I love him anyway. He’s gone though. I won’t see him again.

Kirsty: You don’t know that for sure.

Kirsty: … Listen to me, Jamie. If he comes back… I want you to go with him.

Jamie: What!? What are you saying!?

Kirsty: Be happy.

Jamie: I’m happy enough here…

Kirsty: Wouldn’t you be happier with the Doctor?

Jamie: … But, Kirsty—

Kirsty: Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.

Kirsty: I hope he will return to you. If he loves you… he will come back.

Kirsty: Goodnight

Jamie: … … Where are you, Doctor? Why do I miss you so much? Do you miss me too…?

END

—————

At long last I finished this! It started out as just a bit of fun language practice trying to figure out if I could do a conversation in Gaelic.

The idea that Jamie might see snippets of his sealed memories in his dreams but forget them upon waking was in my head at the time, along with the thought that he would have this unshakeable sense that he was missing something, that he somehow knew this strange man better than his memories say he should even though he only actually remembers the few hours he knew him for in the aftermath of Culloden. And I figured Kirsty, through hearing him talk in his sleep and such starts to piece things together as much as she can to try to talk to him about it.

I wasn’t going to actually do anything with it but then a wave of motivation hit me to turn it into comic practice as well and I ended up drawing all this lol. So here you go.

I left the Gaelic practice in the speech bubbles since that’s surely what they’d be speaking to each other in but keep in mind I’m very much still a basic learner of the language so it’s probably a little awkward or off in places. Don’t look at it too closely 😅

But it was a fun exercise to try anyway!

[munsonsmixtapes]

Hi I saw you wanted requests for older!eddie/sugar daddy!eddie and I have ideas! It’s a little sad so I’m sorry about that. Happy ending tho!

I can picture Eddie looking for a sugar baby because he’s had so much trouble with women in the past. He was always an outcast and he has a hard time believing someone wants to spend time with him. You’d been friendly (maybe like coworkers or neighbors) and when he offers the arrangement at first your like “you don’t need to pay me to spend time with you I like you” and you help him see how wonderful he is and show him how attractive he is.

Or alternatively (and way more smutty), you match on a sugar daddy/sugar baby site or chatroom or whatever and you and him have crazy good chemistry and then when you send him pics he’s like- holy shit it’s you the girl he’s been crushing on forever. Or maybe he doesn’t know you irl and the reader is a cam girl and Eddie pays for private zoom calls and you’re so surprised cause omg this client is so hot.

cw: MDNI (18+) Eddie receives a handjob, age gap (reader is 25 and Eddie is 40)

Eddie’s definitely the first to admit that he doesn’t have great luck in the dating department. He’s been on more dates than he can count, but for whatever reason, it never goes past more than one.

He doesn’t get it. He’s got the money and he thought the ladies loved that kind of thing. He’s even offered to buy them whatever they want, but that never seems to work as they often think he’s just flashing his wealth at them.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong. He’s not asking for much either. He just wants someone who he can spend time with, someone he can spoil because he’s got more money that he knows what do with.

So when Steve and Robin suggest that he become a sugar daddy, he immediately thinks that’s the answer. It seems like the perfect arrangement. He gets what he wants and there’s no actual attachment. He just doesn’t know who he’d offer it up to.

When he sees you at your desk when he heads to his office, he decides you’re the perfect candidate. He’s constantly heard you complain about your financial situation to other girls in the building and has even seen you eyeing an expensive bag on your computer when he’s passed your desk.

He’s nervous when he finds you in the elevator on Monday morning. He was hoping at least a few extra minutes, but he supposes that this is as good a place as any since it’s just the two of you and no one is there to possibly eavesdrop.

You greet him politely like you always do and he greets you back in his awkward manner and then the rest of the ride to the top floor is quiet, so much so that you could definitely hear a pin drop.

He’s staring at you and he knows it’s creepy, but he can’t help it. You’re just so pretty in your dress pants and blazer, your makeup done so flawlessly. You always look so professional for work and he admires that about you.

He’d by lying if he said that he didn’t have a tiny crush on you. Okay, huge. The second you stepped foot into his office to interview for the position last year, he was taken aback by you. Not only did he think you were beautiful, but he also admired how smart and funny you were. So you were attractive and completely qualified for the position. Surely there had to be a catch in there somewhere, but there wasn’t. Your were just perfect.

But he hasn’t told anybody. He can’t. So he just bottles up his feelings and only lets them out with a sock and bottle of lotion when he gets home. He knows you probably (definitely) be grossed out by that so he doesn’t do it nearly as much anymore, just when he really needs the release.

Eddie’s not the most social person. In fact, the three years you’ve been working for the company, he can easily count on his hand how many times you’ve had a conversation that wasn’t about work. Sure, at first, you were an intern on an entirely different floor so he never saw you, but now he sees you five days a week so what’s his excuse?

What he doesn’t know, which is surprising since you’ve tried to make it very obvious, is that you like him too. And why wouldn’t you? Not only is he hot and a very rich CEO of a company, but he’s also so intelligent. You can see it when you listen to him during meetings. You’re supposed to be taking notes, and you do, sometimes, but really, most times you’re scribbling “y/n Munson” onto the page like a school girl. You’re so in love with him that sometimes, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

He’s beginning to think that’s maybe this is a bad idea, wondering if he should just find a sugar baby online. He’s older than you by fifteen years and he’s also your boss which wouldn’t look so good. But he’s speaking before he can stop himself so there’s no going back now.

“I have a proposition for you,” he says and you turn to him in confusion, your eyebrows furrowing.

“And what would that be?” You ask and you can see that he’s visibly nervous. He talks to so many celebrities on the daily and you’re the one who makes him nervous? That has never made sense to you.

“You can absolutely say no, but I just wanted to offer it up to you if you’re interested.” Now your interest is piqued. Is finally going to ask you to fuck him like you’ve been fantasizing about for years?

“What is it, Mr. Munson?” God, why does you calling him that always make him so fucking hard?

You’re looking at him with concern now, your hand on his shoulder as you step closer, so close that if he moves just a few inches, he could-no, he’s definitely not doing that.

“I-well-as you know, I have a lot of money.” You laugh at that. He’s one of the richest men in the world, of course he has money.

“Right,” you nod, wanting him to proceed. You’re on the edge of your seat, desperate to know what he wants to ask you and why he won’t just come out and say it.

“And it’s come too much for me to handle so I need someone to spend it on, a companion.”

“Okay,” you drag out the word, still unsure as to why he’s telling you this. You’re just his assistant.

“And I’d like that someone to be you.” Your eyes widen at his words. Surely you didn’t hear him right. There’s no way that he wants to give you some of his money. That just doesn’t make any sense. “I can provide you with anything you want or need. Rent? Done. Clothes, shoes, even if you just want some extra cash. But in return, I would like you to spend time with me.”

You’re staring at him like he’s got three heads so he’s quick to backtrack. He really doesn’t want to upset you. “But that’s not a requirement. If you just want the money-“

“Mr. Munson, that is so generous,” you cut him off, your other hand moving up to his other bicep as you step even closer, pulling him forward as you bring your lips to his ear. “But you don’t have to pay me to spend with you. I already like you.” You press a lingering kiss to his cheek then flee the elevator as the doors open.

He’s following you, hurrying to catch up with you. Instead of heading to your desk, though, you’re entering his office, looking back at him with a flirty look.

You open the door and hold it for him before letting it slam closed and locking it. When you turn, he’s all the way across the room, trying to make sense of what’s happening, but he just can’t.

He’s loosened his tie and his hair is even more of a mess than it usually is. You make your way over to him, taking him by the hands and pulling to you and wrapping his arms around your waist while your hands wind into his hair, giving his scalp and little scratch before pulling his head forward. Your lips slowly press to his and he gasps into your mouth before slowly melting into you.

You’re kissing him hungrily and he’s matching your energy as this is something that the two of you have wanted for so long. It’s everything you could have imagined and more, his lips just as soft as you had pictured.

Your tongue quickly swipes along his bottom lip as you push him against the window. He lets you inside and can’t stop himself from moaning. You swear you’re to come just from hearing it and once you press your body to his, you can see he’s already one step ahead on you as you feel his rock hard cock pressing against you.

“Want me to take care of that for you?” You ask and he whines, unable to get the words come out of his mouth as he nods enthusiastically.

You hurry over to his desk and look through his drawers until you find a bottle of lotion that you’re sure if for the exact purpose to lucky you. You then unbuckle his pants and pull them and his underwear down, his rock hard cock coming into view. You pump some of the lotion into your hand then go to town, pumping his his cock hard as he pressed himself even harder against the window, trying to grab onto whatever he can as a loud moan falls from his lips.

You slap your free hand over his mouth and his eyes flutter shut as pleasure courses through him. He’s sure he’s going to come any second.

“That’s it. Just like that,” you encourage him. “Maybe if you’re a good boy, I’ll clean you up.” He mumbles something against your hand and before you’re about to ask him what it is, there’s a loud knock at the door, the two of you staring at it in fear as you pull away quickly, letting Eddie put his pants back.

“We can continue this at my place tonight,” you wink. “I’ll message you my address, okay?”

“Okay,” he nods as you make your way to the door as Eddie heads towards his desk, sitting behind it to hide is still very hard cock.

You unlock and open the door and sure enough, Steve is standing on the other side of it, looking between you and Eddie curiously. As you head out of the office with your head low to hide your smile, all Steve can think about is how he owes Robin twenty dollars.

taglist: @the-witty-pen-name @k-yurieee

[practicalgauntlet]

~You're still my person. Even if I'm not yours.~

Part two

"We kept crossing paths, near misses and almosts, when all I ever wanted was for us to collide." -Jessica Katoff

Synopsis - Some time has passed, and you think you've healed. But when you're shot by an unsub, old wounds are ripped open for all to see.

Category- Angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Notes - Hurt/comfort, you get shot, Canon typical violence, blood and gore, angst, self-loathing, self-blaming, a year has passed between this and part one, gender-neutral reader (I only use They/Them pronouns because I know everyone likes Spencer not just the girlies), I'm so sorry this is so long, you're a trooper if you get through all of this. The fic started writing itself :/

A/N- this is for @bloodredrubyrose and everyone else who wanted the happy ending. I hope this is okay.

WARNING- This one-shot has violence similar to the cases in the show, but I wanted to bring attention to what transpires and is mentioned in this fic. The case revolves around murdered pregnant women and their fetuses. If the topic is too sensitive for you or can trigger anything, I suggest not reading this.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A year has passed since J.J.'s wedding.

You still find yourself hurting, lying awake at night thinking of the possibility of "What if?". You still have to shake away the thoughts of inadequacy, of not good enough.

Sometimes, when you're particularly tired or inebriated, you find yourself still unable to look away from him.

It was three weeks and two days after the wedding when Spencer invited you to hang out with him again. It was a month, two weeks, and eleven hours when he greeted you with a genuine smile again.

It was eight months, three weeks, six days, and two hours when you felt like you could breathe again.

Everything was back to normal. It wasn't bright, shiny rainbows and glittery kittens like Penelope said it would be once you healed. But it was normal.

It was easier to ignore the festering pit in your stomach during the day, easier to look your team in the eye, say, "I'm okay." and mean it. It was easier to watch Spencer heal the same way you were.

You were so proud of him. It felt like your Spencer was back. His long-winded speeches about something that didn't seem relevant but ended up helping the case drastically, his magic tricks in the bullpen when Hotch was in his office, and his goofy authenticity. All of it was back, at least partially.

He still got quiet when J.J. was around and closed in on himself. But compared to those days after the wedding, he was making immense progress. You just wished he let you in so you could help.

"I don't think they're listening."

You barely hear Morgan's voice over the bubbling thoughts that threatened to take control and invade your mind.

"Oh, sugar they're definitely not listening."

Penelope's hand was slamming down on your desk, startling you out of your reverie.

"What's on your mind, honey pot?"

She asks, propping herself up on the table. With her quirked eyebrow and intense look in her eye, you knew what she was asking.

"Are you still hurting?"

She was right to be worried, right to involve herself in case you got worse again. But instead of thinking about Spencer and how you'll never be on the receiving end of his affectionate gaze, you were actually thinking about the case.

There was a lull in leads, the ones you had only took the team to a dead end. Dead body after dead body and still nothing.

"I'm fine, Pen. This case is just taking a lot out of me."

And it was true. The BAU had been called in because a dead body had been unearthed by a gardener somewhere East. A heavily pregnant woman had been murdered, her unborn child ripped from her body and buried with her.

It was horrifying, to say the least, the brutality of the unsub turning your breakfast sour. But it had been seven hours since the team landed in the small town, and you were still no closer to finding the culprit.

"Why don't we get something to eat, hmm?"

Penelope suggested, hopping off the table and holding out her hand for you.

"If you're getting food, get me a little somethin'. I'm in the mood for Chinese!"

Morgan yelled from across the room, his hip propped against the clear board Spencer was mumbling at.

"I guess we're getting Chinese."

You chuckle, standing up and following Penelope out of the makeshift conference room the local police allowed you to use. As you were passing Spencer, you turned to him and called his name.

"Do you want anything specific?"

He looks to you, eyes reluctantly leaving his equations as he's pulled from his thoughts.

"What?"

There was a surge of affection at the sight of his pursed lips and furrowed brows. The way his hands fiddled with the marker, clicking the lid on and off the end.

"We're getting the team Chinese takeout. Do you want anything?"

"Just a fork."

You nod your head, peeling yourself away from his attentive gaze. When you and Penelope get in the car, she places a hand on yours. You didn't take your eyes off the road, but you could tell that she was looking at you with that look again.

"How have you been, sugar?

It felt good to have someone watching over you, someone in your corner, to ask if you were okay even after time had passed and you were healed.

"I've been doing good."

She was the only one to know of your breakdown on Rossi's front porch. She was the only one you allowed to see what it did to you those weeks afterward. How depressed you were, how hopeless. Penelope Garcia was your best friend, and she was the only one to know you were still unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Spencer Reid.

"Are you sure about that? I know this case is a doozy but I know that look in your eye."

You briefly take your eyes off the road once you reach a red light, patting the hand that now rested comfortingly on your thigh.

"Yes, I'm fine. It doesn't feel like the world is ending anymore. Plus, life is unfair sometimes. I just need to roll with the punches."

She looked at you, her knowing eyes always privy to the storm that rolled beneath your skin. In one final attempt to comfort her worry, you flash her your most believable smile.

Penelope quirked an eyebrow and looked away, not at all convinced but persuaded to leave it be for the time being.

The trip for food was brief. You got various dishes in case the team was in the mood for a certain thing. You were back at the station within twenty minutes, walking into the conference room to something you never wanted to see.

Your team was gathered around the table, faces grim as they spoke towards the phone sitting in the middle.

"Another body..."

Penelope whispers, catching the eyes of Morgan as he shakes his head solemnly. Hotch was already giving the team their orders.

Morgan and Emily were dispatched to question the family as the local police had already ID'd the girl. She was a well-known and loved woman; she was a part of the PTA, led the neighborhood watch, and hosted bake sales for all parts of the community.

J.J. was asked to stay behind and deal with the journalists and news anchors that suddenly surrounded the station.

That left you and Spencer to follow up with the police at the scene of the crime. Spencer drove the two of you there, your knee bouncing in the passenger seat as you watched the scenery pass by.

"I don't get it..."

Spencer mumbles. When you look to him for an explanation he was already glancing at you.

"Why pregnant women? Why take the baby out and bury it with the mother? It makes no sense."

You flip down the visor, both because you need to get the sun out of your eyes and to do something with your hands.

"Maybe they're surrogates for his real target? A mother? Maybe he's upset at his mom and taking the baby is a way to give mercy to his inner child."

"Or maybe," Spencer counters, long fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he pulls into the crime scene. "They're surrogates for a wife."

The scene before you was gnarly. And unfortunately, the unsub had changed M.O.

The woman was buried in a shallow grave like the others, dressed in a thin white gown, poised perfectly like Snow White with her child tightly swaddled in a towel and tucked safely in her arms. The only difference was the lack of blood, the lack of brutality. That, and she had blonde hair whereas the other victims were brunettes.

"He's devolving."

You mutter, feeling sick at the sight of her.

"Or he's getting close to what he's wanting to do."

You look up at him from your squatted position, taking in Spencer in all his glory. He looked so good in his FBI vest, with his sweater and tie peeking out from the collar.

You shouldn't be thinking of him like that. Not when a woman and her child had lost their life and they lay decaying in front of you. Not when you should already be over him.

"What do you mean?"

"She looks perfectly preserved. Sure, she's laid out in the same outfit and the same position. The color and the way she's laid are meant to symbolize purity. So we know he isn't murdering for hatred. He feels sympathy for these women. But look at this,"

He crouches next to you, the movement sending your heart into overdrive. His sleeves were rolled up as he shoved his hands into some blue surgical gloves. You could even smell his cologne.

"Her hair," He picks up a strand. "Her hair had been styled. There's a texture to it that means he used hairspray. And while the others' hair was wild and unkempt, most likely because he kept them for some time or they fought back, her's is washed and curled."

"So we know this woman is a surrogate, but he's not acting on any sexual or vengeful impulse?"

Spencer turned to you, looking at you from above his sunglasses.

"I think we're ready to give the profile."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

"We are looking for a white male in his mid to late thirties."

Morgan starts as he leans against one of the desks, his arms folded against his chest. Emily stepped up, continuing on as she stared each and every officer down to make sure they were taking this as seriously as it was.

"Look for someone who had recently lost a wife and child during the birth, someone who is most likely blue collar. He would have been a normal man up until his loss. Now, he would be agitated and easily riled up. Getting into fights or arguments when he normally wouldn't. "

You step in, delivering the line you rehearsed in your head over and over on the ride back to the station.

"He's kidnapping pregnant women so he could relive the birth. So he could hold his child and kiss his wife. But he's desperate, so he is taking the babies out prematurely and amateurly that neither victim survives. He would need a space to do all of this, a garage, a second home, or a place of work. Somewhere concealed enough to not draw attention but spacious enough to perform the c-section."

It was now Hotch's turn to deliver the final line of the profile.

"He will continue to take women until he gets what he wants. We need to make sure Kate Smith is his last victim."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You found him. Carl McGregor, a welder for a construction company. His wife of six years died giving birth to his child, and he went off the rails.

You sympathized with him, knowing that he was in so much pain. But that didn't excuse what he did to those poor women and the families they were a part of.

Carl was hiding out in his garage, a woman in the last week of her second trimester strapped to the table; screaming for help.

You were the first on the scene, your legs carrying you just a bit faster than the others. When you opened the garage door, you had to put every ounce of will not to tackle the guy to the ground.

"FBI! Put the scalpel down Carl!"

Carl was hovering over Debbie Park, a young mother of three and a half. He had her strapped to a makeshift stretcher and her terrified screams broke your heart.

"No!" Carl said with a crazed look in his eyes. "My wife is about to give birth, give her space!"

You lower your gun so the barrel isn't aimed straight at his skull but keep it raised just in case. When you spoke, you made sure you sounded as calm and understanding as possible.

"Carl, your wife died three weeks ago giving birth to your son. Let Debbie go so her husband doesn't experience the loss you did.

You don't know how or when Spencer made it into the garage but he suddenly appeared in the shadows, his gun aimed at Carl.

"No, please!" Carl was focused on you, his shaking hands still holding Debbie down. "This is my wife! Why are trying to take her away?"

You lower your gun entirely, feeling safe with Spencer there to have your back. You approached Carl slowly, keeping your body crouched as if you were approaching a scared and wounded animal. Because that's exactly what he was. A scared and wounded animal.

"Carl?" You put a hand on his shoulder. He winces but doesn't attack. "Debbie has a family, she has three kids and a husband who are worried sick about her. Do you want to put her husband and kids through the same pain you're feeling?"

It all happened so fast. First Carl was lunging at you, a gun you didn't know he had raised before you could pull your own. Debbie's screams mixed with yours as Spencer fired his gun and took Carl down.

There was a sharp sting to your chest, your right shoulder to be exact just under your collarbone. Upon Carl's death, his finger squeezed the trigger and put a bullet three inches from your heart.

Spencer was in front of you before you could collapse, cradling your head to save it from bashing against the concrete ground.

"I need a medic!"

Spencer yelled into his com, his face wild with worry as he pressed his hands into your wound.

It hurt, sending a blazing fire throughout your body. In the back of your mind, you heard yourself scream from the pain, your throat raw and ragged. Your hands uncontrollably gripped Spencer's vest, clutching him closer to you as you tried to breathe around the sharp, boiling pain.

"You're going to be okay, the medic is on his way."

Spencer's voice sounded far away, garbled and hazy like he was underwater. Panic soon tore across your body, thrumming through your veins as you tried to ignore the sticky warmth pooling through your shirt.

"No, no, stay with me. Stay with me please!"

You barely felt Spencer's cold hands patting your cheek. You had to say it now, as you were dying. This was your last chance to tell him how you feel. You already felt yourself slipping away.

"Spence..."

Your mouth felt so dry, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. He was shaking above you, pulling your body into his lap as he rocked you back and forth.

"I'm here, I'm here. I'm not leaving, you'll be okay."

You felt he was saying that more for himself than he was for you.

It was hard to unfurl your fingers from his vest but you did it, lifting your hand to cradle his cheek. It was now or never.

"Before I dye, I need you to know-"

"No!" Spencer seethed. You had never seen him so emotional before, so upset he looked feral. "You are not going to die! Where's my fucking medic?!"

"I need you to know, that I love you."

He smoothed his hands over your face, brushing the sweaty strands of hair away from your eyes. "I love you too, you're my best friend."

You let out a breathy, strangled, humourless chuckle. Of course he'd make you spell it out for him.

"I'm in love with you, Spencer..."

Black was edging your vision, your ears ringing as you watched Spencer blink once, twice, before the medic pushed him away.

Faintly you felt your body being moved, that white-hot pain once again rendering you speechless as you finally succumbed to the darkness that was calling to you.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Spencer couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't taste, or hear, or feel. Frantic, animalistic worry overpowered every other emotion. Logic be damned, facts be damned.

"Reid, calm down or you're gonna wear a hole in the floor."

"There is a high chance the bullet nicked a vital vein or artery. It took us fifteen minutes and thirty seconds to get her to the hospital and another six minutes for the doctors to start operating. There is a higher chance that she lost too much blood and will need a transfusion. If she needs a transfusion there is a chance she could have a Febrile non-hemolytic transfusion reaction or a Transfusion-related acute lung injury. There are so many possibilities to think over and every time I think I've found a way to stop them another one pops up. Do not tell me to calm down!"

Morgan backed off, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

"My bad, man."

Emily was next to approach him and he had to look away from the worry on her face.

"Only thinking about what could go wrong will only cause you more stress. Maybe you should go home and take a shower."

"Stop telling me what to do."

He didn't recognize his voice, and he knew his friends didn't recognize him. So he backed off, settling himself in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, and put his head in his hands.

Emily was right. Derek was right. But if he thought about anything other than the complications that could take you away from him all he would focus on were the last words you uttered before blacking out.

"I'm in love with you, Spencer."

He didn't know what to do with that information. After J.J. he didn't allow himself to even look a second longer at someone that was out of his league. Which was everyone. Especially you.

You were so kind and gentle with him. You let him go on his rants, asking him to finish what he was saying if the team not so subtly told him to shut up or bluntly interrupted him. You loved his endless facts and knowledge and you told him often.

You were like a beacon of light when you entered the room, his gaze unconsciously looking for you wherever he was. You were his best friend; you knew everything about him and still treated him like a human being. Not some computer, not some freak.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. His hands were shaky and he couldn't keep still to save his life. He had never felt like this before, not when a gun was pointed in his face, not when the bureau was infiltrated. Not even when Emily was in the hospital.

He'd never been this scared shitless before.

And then it hit him.

He was in love with you.

He had been for a while. Maybe after J.J., maybe before. Spencer didn't know when it happened or how deeply it had been buried. All he knew was that it was now so fucking obvious.

It felt so natural. He had always thought you were going to be a permanent fixture in his life. Always thought that you'd be a phone call away when he needed you and he'd be the same. Whenever he thought of something you were always there, in the back of his mind like you belonged there.

He faintly heard a commotion, the sound of chairs scraping against the ground and footsteps running away. He looked up from the floor, his body fuzzy from the realization.

Spencer bolted from his seat the moment he saw the doctor standing in front of his team. He gently shoved aside Morgan and J.J. needing to hear the news as close as possible.

"They're stable and awake. It had just barely missed their heart, but they will heal with no permanent damage."

Spencer could have dropped to his knees with relief, his body sagging and his lungs deflating.

"Can I- we see her?"

"Of course, but we still need to take their vitals frequently. And a room full of people would not be best stress-wise so I suggest one to two people at a time."

Morgan clapped him on the back, a knowing look on his face before shoving him forward.

"We're going to get something to eat. You check on our sunshine."

After all the attitude he threw their way, he was dumbfounded that they would give him such a precious opportunity.

"Thank you,"

"No problem, Pretty Boy."

When Spencer entered your room, it was like he walked into a different reality. You were usually so bright and shining, carving a path of light and kindness wherever you stepped, but now you were lifeless. The tubes and wires hooked up to you made you look so uninhabited; pale, and sickly from the blood loss.

Spencer approached the bed, being careful not to make any noise that would startle you awake. Your eyes were closed and he assumed you were probably in and out of consciousness due to the pain meds they were pumping into you.

He hated seeing you like this.

"Spence?"

He hadn't realized you had awoken, too focused on all the machinery you were hooked up to.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

Spencer didn't know what to do with his body so he just stood there, willing his emotions into submission and picking at the skin of his thumbs.

"I feel like I just got hit by a train."

You groan and he is at your side immediately, checking the monitors and making sure your pain meds are working. They were, but he needed to make sure.

"What no fact about processing pain or how it affects the body?"

You were looking up at him now, a pained but genuine smile on your face. In the hour that he worried relentlessly about you, he feared he'd never see that again.

That smile faded into something akin to concern when he didn't respond.

"What's wrong Spence?"

"I thought you were going to die."

He sounded so small, even to his own ears. Weak, scared. Like a child.

You waved him over closer, and he listened. If you told him to, he would follow you to the ends of the earth. It surprised him when you grabbed his hand and placed it over your heart, the roughness of the gauze grazing his shaking fingers. He tried to pull away, but you kept him there so he could feel your heartbeat.

"I'm still here, Spencer. You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Do you-" He couldn't stand not knowing anymore. The probability of people saying things they didn't mean while bleeding out was too high for him to think clearly any longer. "Do you remember what you said to me?"

He watched your face turn sad, your lips turn inward and your eyes drop to the hospital-grade blanket. You also dropped his hand, the limb numbly swinging back by his side.

"Yes," You refused to look at him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put you in that situation, it was unfair of me."

"No, I-"

"I understand if I've ruined everything. I don't blame you if you don't want to be friends anymore."

Before he could think and rehearse a thought-out sentence, his mouth moved and spoke for him. "I don't want to be friends."

He realized his mistake not a second later. And to make up for it, to take away the pain on your face, he gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him.

"I love you too, so much so that the idea of you dying turned me into an illogical and emotional mess."

Tears lined your wide eyes as you stared up at him, your cheeks regaining some color. Now that he's said it out loud, he couldn't keep his mouth shut even if he tried.

"I love you so much, that I want to take away all your pain. All the bad memories and shitty feelings that take away that pretty smile. I'd do anything for you."

You reached up and cupped his cheek, much like hours before, your lip quivering.

"I'd do anything for you too, Spence."

"I know."

It felt natural to kiss your forehead, to settle into the small hospital bed, and tuck you gently into his side. It felt natural to, days later after you were discharged, take you on a proper date and call you his.

A/N- Realistically I know there would be more turmoil, less trust, and more self-doubt during the confession part but this is fiction of fiction so let's just pretend okay:) I'll save that stuff for the full-length stuff. Also along the lines of reality, I know that there is such a thing as a bulletproof vest, but I needed drama so forgive me.

[cupcake669]

I really like the "slutty hippy cult leader Viktor" agenda we have going on in the fanarts buuuut i have another idea for your consideration:

oblivious Viktor + "going insane" Jayce + ecchi anime style shenaningans

I am talking about Jayce falling head first into Viktor's chest, getting stuck together in cramped spaces, Viktor's robes slipping from time to time...and let's not forget his exposed sides and back.

In this fever dream of mine, Jayce joins the compound trying to save the world but gets crazier by the minute because his partner is just so damn pretty and Viktor is entirely unaware of it!

Everyday is a new kind of torture for Jayce. And listen, its not like his attraction towards Viktor is new, oh no, he has been fighting with the demons of bisexuality and unrequitted love for ages and he was doing okeyish. But now Viktor is showing TOO MUCH SKIN (thinks Jayce, like a sheltered victorian who sees ankles for the first time) and even worse: everyone gets to look at it too! Viktor's cult is basically his fanclub and Jayce is their number 1 hater.

Meanwhile Viktor is just happy he has Jayce by his side. He loves him ofc, but there is no way Jayce would like him back. Yes, he might be healthy now, but Jayce doesnt like men (he aint winning prizes for that one) and his body is altered, not human anymore. It's functional and exceptional is some ways, but not attractive in the slightest. Which is fine, because he doesnt need that of course! Why would he? He had time to accept his forever fruitless love towards Jayce, no need to get sentimental about it now!

And yet...strange situations keep happening between the two of them. Everytime they get close Jayce gets visibly uncomfortable. Sometimes he thinks that he can sense Jayce looking at him, but when he looks back Jayce averts his eyes. Is it guilt? Is it disgust? Oh that could be...especially because Jayce used to touch him a lot, in a friendly way mind you, but still. Now he tries to avoid touching Viktor as much as possible. Viktor thinks its natural, he shouldnt expect anything else. But still...everytime they touch by chance, he wishes that it would never end. Its a selfish, unreasonable desire, something he should have left behind with his old, human body... but he just cant help it.

And so they are in a strange limbo, the two of them. Pretending everything is fine, healing others, bearing the weight of the world on their shoulders and having to dance around each other in a way they are not familiar with.

The accidents that bring them together keep increasing. Is the arcane reacting to Viktor's deepest desire or they just naturally gravitate towards the other? Maybe both, maybe neither. Maybe its just the will of an old, tired mage who needs a little bit of entertainment in his life.

[eeboor]

here comes a long post i’m fucking sorry lmao

a really interesting point was raised the other day about who the better person is (morally): jayce talis or jayce giopara? [insert obligatory admission about the fact that giopara has an annoying personality].

Like, talis is of course nice and kind and wonderful, perhaps a bit naive, but i don’t think we talk about how far he’s willing to go for what he believes. he weaponizes hextech because mel asks him to, and he doesn’t think further. he blatantly ignores viktor’s wishes about destroying the hexcore, even using it on his corpse to reanimate him. he ignores the council and does what he wants, enacting vigilante justice at the cost of innocent lives (including an actual child). he set up the fucking hexgates in such a way that they pollute the water supply of the undercity. and then, when he’s back from his sabbatical in hell, he goes to viktor. he looks him in the eyes, with the weapon he never wanted him to make, and he shoots him. what the actual fuck this guy is unhinged. he doesn’t THINK. he has no sense of consequences—of course if you keep unsecured, highly unstable and explosive materials in your residential apartment, things might blow up in your face (literally!). of course your patron won’t support you—she is beholden to social opinion. of course weapons can never be unmade and are always used. of course using the scary magical dodecahedron your partner begged you to destroy to bring said partner back from the dead will bring him back Different ™️. come on Jayce.

and then giopara. he has no true family, instead is left to the bloodthirsty clans who want him for what he can give them. he’s antisocial. he’s fucking annoying. he’s a diva 💜. he’s impossible to work with but impossible to get rid of because he’s just that smart. he hates politics and only gets into them to appease his investors so he can do what he actually wants. he doesn’t give a fuck about the common people who look up to him so much. he’s alone, alone, alone. and then he’s not. he meets this other brilliant mind, the only one who can keep up with him. i mean how insane would that be? he must have been at least a little obsessed with viktor because of that. then picture jayce, in all his egotistical glory, drunk on life and the belief that he and viktor are the brightest minds alive, when viktor shows him the diver suits. why does he resist? why does he care? no one in his life is telling him to care. he just does. he sees the devices for what they are, or at least what they could be twisted to be, and calls viktor out on it. he doesn’t speak up for viktor when the stanwick thing happens, it’s true, but doubtless he simply expected viktor to wow and amaze with a different project and be happy with the credit from that. and then viktor leaves. and jayce is a one man act again. like always. like forever and always. jayce acts wrongly, it’s true, when it comes to viktor and destroying his lab and accidentally killing those people, but he saw what he thought was evil and he went for it. no thought of what he could lose. no thought of who he could lose.

idk man there’s something about these two. by no means do i think talis is a bad person, in fact i think he’s a fundamentally good one. but he’s just so fucking naive, and towards the end he’s willing to do ANYTHING for what he believes, no matter the grisly consequences. he’s fucking scary. he’s unhinged. giopara on the other hand has a terrible personality, but is completely unwavering in his beliefs no matter the cost to himself or his relationships. viktor asked him to work together again, and he said “get a psyche eval” and slammed the door.

[loversray]

“Byler is in Stranger Things to show unrequited love” Yet, it isn’t.

Stranger Things has shown unrequited ‘love’ before, with Dustin’s crush on Max (who liked Lucas) which i feel like it’s a storyline that most people forget. Which it’s okay, since it’s not that relevant to the story, i just wanted to show how differently Dustin and Max’s story is to Mike and Will’s.

🧢👩🏻‍🦰 How exactly were Dustin & Max written?

For starters, the show doesn’t tell us why Max and Dustin would be good together as a couple. They go well as friends, yes, but they do not show a meaningful conversation between them that really shows the romantic chemistry and how much they understand eachother, like the Lumax bus scene.

Dustin only thinks Max is “awesome” because she skateboards, and has the top score in Dig Dug, because he doesn’t know her.

They highlight that Dustin is not in love with Max, hence the Steve scene, where Steve goes “You’re not falling in love with this girl are you?” which to Dustin honestly says no, because he’s not in love, it’s a just crush. Also an important note when writing something unrequited with 15 year olds.

Then, Dustin speaks to Lucas and says “he could feel the electricity” between him and Max, which is him ultimately accepting that Max does not like him back, and instead likes Lucas.

Is he upset about it? Yes, he is, however, it’s not mentioned again in the show after season 2 because he’s over it. In just a few months, he’s got a new girlfriend, and he doesn’t like Max anymore. He got over it quick, because it was just a crush, and he didn’t know her that well.

In seasons 3&4, Dustin is able to act completely act normal around Max, because he doesn’t like her anymore.

Now, while Lucas also liked Max at first, not as much as Dustin, and as he talks with her more and knows her better (hence, them having more scenes) you see Lumax developing.

💙💛 Where does this put Byler?

Byler is written very differently. First, by season 4, Mike and Will have known eachother and been bestfriends for 10 years. (Since kindergarten), so right off the bat, they KNOW eachother. Dustin didn’t know Max.

Stranger Things has so many scenes of Mike and Will to show us just how special this thing between them is. They have a lot of scenes filled with chemistry, showing how much they understand eachother and how they’d do anything for eachother. (Said by Mike, he’d do anything for Will.)

So, they show us why Mike and Will would be a good couple. Something they didn’t with Max and Dustin.

Noah Schnapp then went on to say “You could never really tell if [Byler] was something romantic or just a really special friendship.”

Next, they show us just how much Will’s in love with Mike. (Also confirmed by Noah Schnapp) So, not a crush like Dustin. He’s in love with Mike. The painting and the van scene proves it. It shows us Will’s feelings for Mike, and how actually deep they are.

Will doesn’t say “Mike’s cool because he skateboards” like Dustin says about Max, he says “You’re the heart, and without you we’d (I) all fall apart.” and “You make her (me) feel like she’s (i’m) not a mistake at all. Like she’s (i’m) better for being different.” Basically, that he’s better for loving Mike. Mike makes Will feel like he’s not a mistake.

So, it’s very obviously NOT a shallow crush, and not something Will can move on from in a few months like Dustin. Will’s happy ending is not moving on from Mike, it’s getting together with Mike. If he moves on in like, a year with someone else completely whom he shares no understanding with, it’s completely bad writing, and i stand on it.

[atangledfate]

Neither Sonic Nor Miles wished to engage in Kitsunami's obvious attempts to bait them into arguing. Honestly it would be impossible to justify it to him. But deep down Sonic was scared of what he'd become if he gave into that urge to kill. It wasn't like he didn't want to or hadn't tried to kill Eggman before. Hell he died once for it even if no one remembered it. It was impossible to explain it to anyone, or deny he didn't want to strangle Eggman. But he made a promise a long time ago--- he couldn't break it. Not to her, of all people she mattered more to him then Kit would know.

" ... Maybe you are right... Can't change the past though. No point arguing about it. Wish things had been different... but i still believe in Tinker... Belle is proof that ... he could have done so much good. I'm sad it turned out how it did... but if thought i could turn Eggman back into tinker--- I'd do it without hesitation... Even if i did have to risk everything..."

He spoke in a somber Tone, his eyes drifting to Belle knowing deep down what she lost. Part of him felt like maybe it was worth it to give her a chance at life. Even if it ended badly, if he had done things differently who knows what would have become of Belle. The thought didn't sit well with him, and he wanted to see Belle Happy. She deserved it, he owed it to her.

Miles wasn't sure what to say to the other Fox, he knew how much they'd been hurt by starline. But nothing he could say would mend that bridge. Surge and Kit would always hate them it seemed, even if he wished deep down he could change that. He wanted to be Kit's friend, to share ideas, and help him find his way in life. but he was smart enough to recognize that kind of anger--- was going to need time and distance to mend.

===============================================

Lanolin crossed her arms as she listened to Blaze's explanation and reasoning. Though she had this feeling in the tips of her horns that it wasn't a good idea for GUN to get there hands on Starline. In fact she had the total opposite feeling that they should be the ones to deal with him and, they should hide it from GUN. The thought that they might use him to create some crazy army of super powered mobians like Surge and Kitsunami was maddening to her. But it wouldn't be the first time would it?

" I'm sure you aren't wrong about Starline. The fact GUN would kill to get there paws on him, or the fact it would be good leverage. But i don't think its a good idea for them to know he's alive... "

She explained with a concerned look about her.

" Imagine what GUN would do if they had access to Starline's technology, let alone Starline himself. What monsters would he create with unlimited resources and time... I'd say it would be utter madness for GUN to do that--- But they already did! Shadow was a byproduct of GUN according to what Amy and Miles tells me...."

" I think... we should hide this from GUN... deal with starline ourselves. I'd rather be safe then risk him falling into GUNs hands...the thought is to frightening to consider "

"Well, maybe at one point she could retire from being a thief and just live a nice and peaceful life. You never know, right?" Belle couldn't ignore the now building tension in the room after Kitsunami's rather hostile words so thought it best try to keep the focus on something positive or at the very least keep the subject off of Eggman. Though why did she feel like it wouldn't change much.

"Yes, because Eggman is completely the same way, expect for the fact he's only ever helped just to save himself or to serve his own self interests. You can try to put the blame on Starline, though let's be honest, if Eggman wasn't around would Starline have even turned out the way he did?" Kitsunami knew this wasn't helping anything, just arguing for the sake of arguing at this point, though he couldn't understand how Sonic can still stand by his choice after all the damage it's caused.

===========================================================

"Well, I suppose I have the advantage of my speed and power, along with inheriting my mother's ability to a small degree. It allows me to foresee one's attacks, to a limit degree that is." Blaze could only see a couple moves as her mouth could see an entire battle just by looking at one and plan to counter ever single move. Though now was hardly the time to think about that. The feline wondered if she should have someone from Sol she trusts looking for Starline as well.

"I'm unsure the process of events if I'm being honest. However, I believe I was attacked before Surge and Kitsunami as when he attempted to attack me he seemed a tad more, unstable, if I were to put it. Perhaps that is another factor to take into how I dealt with him so easily. Even if he had that strange glove powering him." Blaze wished she has paid closer attention to details as at the time Starline was more of an annoyance than a threat, at least to her.

"I feel bad for saying this, though it could give us another advantage for making sure there's no doubt Kitsunami won't be arrested or even charged. If Starline is still alive then there's a chance he could attempt to get Surge and Kitsunami back on his side. In a sense G.U.N gets Surge as bait, though they'd more than likely keep an eye on Kitsunami as he could be considered an easier target than one locked in a G.U.N prison."

Blaze truly felt awful using this sort of logic, though it was certainly a good point that even this Commander Lupus could come up with. Not putting all your eggs in one basket as the saying goes. If Starline goes after Surge G.U.N can respond quickly and harshly, and if he goes after Kitsunami then they can spring in a surprise visit and have him cornered between them and The Restoration.

[writingoddess1125]

1999 pt. 7

Kurt Wagner x Fem Reader

Some Angst, Sad Topics

Reader has Empath abilities where she can feel others’ emotions, her mind can’t be read by either, and if she touches someone she can make them feel what she feels.

Marvel Masterlist <<

Milo had always been prepared to hate his father, to hate the man who had left his children and their mother- to suffer and figure it out on their own.

However- When he saw that man's face.. the sparkle in his eyes and despite seeing awkward and terrified- happy to see them, joyous almost...

It was too much and Milo felt like his got sucked into the vacuums of space.. He honestly didn't know why he just walked out of the house, it took him about 4 blocks down the street to actually use his mutation to get to where he wanted instead of walking.

Ending up with Milo had his forehead pressed against a tree, his mind oddly blank and clear of any thoughts- his chest felt hollow and body felt like it was barely there. Only just.. existing in this moment.

However it seemed he was taking it better then Leon who had his face smashed into his knees crying with his tail wrapped around him. Sobbing so hard that he was hiccuping and seemingly having a panic attack-

"T-This is so fucked man.." Leon finally hiccuped out, Lifting his head enough to wipe the tears and snot from his face. Milo finally snapping from his almost comatose state.

Milo slowly moving plopped down on the grass next to Leon.

"Yeah it is..."

Leon looked to his sibling seeing that vacant and clearly shell shocked look-

"...You look like someone who got back from war dude" Leon managed to sniffle out as he wiped his face more, Milo pushing Leon with his tail lightly.

"Yeah and you're crying like a chick who lost her husband in a war" Both boys now able to at least crack a smile, starting to at least somewhat calm down.

Milo looking around the patch of seemingly overgrown trees and grass around them and humming.

"How did we end up in the same spot if we left at different time..." He mumbled.

"Cause we go to the exact same place everytime we freak out"

Both boys looked at each other. "Behind the Gas Station" they mumbled in unison- before seeming laughing a bit at this.

The two sat in silence for a while longer hours passing as they watched as the sky darkened.

"We.. are gonna have to face all of this huh-"

Leon nodded at this as he clicked his tongue with a nod.

"Yep-"

Milo sighed heavily and rubbed his face harshly. Clearly not really up for this type of situation in the slightest.

"We need a gameplan.. like- Odviously Mom is gonna do 'I know this is a lot and you have questions- So' blah blah-" Milo started as he seemed to try and logically think this over and-

"Why are we blue.. And the fuck is with the tail?" Leon cut in- Milo blinking at his brother.

"Thats.. a good question actually.."

Both boys spent a better part of an hour thinking over every question they could ever think of. From the Eyes, Teeth, Tail, Why the bad smell when they teleport, and a host of others as why as the obvious one of why he wasn't in their life.

After an hour of this when it was almost pitch black did the two feel satisfied with their list of questions.

Now standing there apprehensive and seemingly stalling- Leon breaking first.

"Alright lets..lets... go home-"

Both teens nodded as they nodded and disapeared, appearing in their backyard. It seemed like a bad idea to just burst in the house so they slowly slid open the window and crawled in- Glancing around the area as both boys could already tell it had been used.

Especially seeing what seemed to be take out on the island- Leon stepping over to it and silently opening up the boxes to see some fairly decent Italian food. Which Leon took the chance to shove some cold garlic bread in his mouth-

Milo however went into the junk drawer to get a pen silently to make sure they had all the questions written down that they had-

However after he had written down the 4th one and Leon had eaten 2 more pieces of bread the kitchen lights flicked on making both boys jump- well 3 as Kurt jumped from his sleeping position on the couch.

(Y/N) standing there, arms crossed in her robe as she stared at her sons and now Kurt who were all wide eyed.

"...We either all go to bed, or have a conversation now"

Her voice felt like law as all three blue men seemed to awkwardly squirm in their place, However the twins couldn't help but have their eyes land on the man on the couch- who seemed to be stealing glances at them like he was afraid of getting caught just as they were with him.

Milo swallowed thickly as he held up the napkin he had managed to write the start of his questions.

"We- have questions.."

That one sentence turned into the 4 of them now in the livingroom, (Y/N) having heated up both boys the leftovers as Her and Kurt sat on one side and Milo and Leon sat on the otherswide.

Leon and Kurt looking at each other awkwardly while Milo and (Y/N) seemed to be having the most intense staring contest in the world. (Y/N) finally sighing as she gave a soft nod.

"You two have the floor-"

"Um- Why are we blue?" Leon weakly asked seemingly breaking the ice, Kurt giving a shy smile at this as he rubbed his hands together.

"My Mutter is blue- It seemed to simply be a popular trait I suppose" He said softly.

"Why didn't you want us?" Milo shot back sharply, making Kurt eyes widen.

"N-Nein.. Milo I never- I didn't know, I would never not want you.. or you Leon.. I.."

He looked to (Y/N) finally who seemingly refused to look at him, however he could see her eyes watering.

"It was my fault- I failed all of you.. Back then I had assumed that your mother was cheating on me.. and with how fragile my ego was, I didn't want to listen to her. I know now she was trying to tell me she was having you two but.. I am foolish" Kurt said softly, his hands tightly clasp as he looked down at them. Guilt eating through his soul.

(Y/N) now finally turned to look at him, a swirl of emotions on her face.

"You thought I was cheating on you? Are you fucking serious Kurt I gave you a God damn card and-" Kurt seemed to sink further in his seat.

"...I didnt... read till a few weeks ago" He mumbled out, feeling (Y/N) glaring at him. He was sure if she hadn't thrown a lamp at him before she would have done it now.

However much to the whole family surprise this game of what felt like 20 questions was oddly- pleasant? With some sprinkling of awkward moments.

From telling of Kurt's early life in a Circus which seemed to peak Leon interest, Their heritage, to explaining how he discovered his parentage which even surprised (Y/N)- However it seemed Kurt kept his career as an Xmen for a different time.

However when (Y/N) finally got questioned- She wasn't exactly thrilled at the line of questioning, especially from Kurt.

"Where were the children born?-" He hade asked softly clearly ment to be innocent however it truthfully was a heavy topic.

"You Gave Birth on Za floor of a resturant?" Kurt said horrified, Leon and Milo also shocked.

"Chicago, In the bathroom floor of a Dinner"

The silence that fell over was almost suffocating-

"I thought we were born in a Hospital in Cook County?" Milo asked equally horrified. (Y/N) shaking her head calmly.

"Well, you two got your birth certificates there- but no, you were born on the floor of the diner I was working at.. and I raised you two in a woman's shelter for the first few months of your life"

Kurt felt the air leave his lungs, his hands so tightly clasp almost white with how hard it was. Regret so strong he could taste it like it was bile in his throat.

The group now sitting in silence as the weight of those words seemed to sink in. (Y/N) swallowing thickly as she looked at the clock on the wall.

"And You didn't tell us?- How many things have you not told us?" Leon said softly, looking to his Mother as for the first time, anger flickered through him.

"...A lot..."

"Let's pick this back up later.. all of us need to sleep.. You boys head off to bed okay?"

There seemed to be a silent agreement to leave the other questions lie as the boys silently got up, tossing out their paper plates of food and walked to their rooms silently, (Y/N) not missing the side glare from Leon and the hollow look on Milo's.

(Y/N) rubbing her head, having felt overwhelmed by the constant waves of emotions- truthfully feeling nauseous by it all. Standing up prepared to probably take some sort of headache medicine and lay down for the evening- or morning in this case.

As she turned to leave Kurt hand shot up and grabbed her own. (Y/N) facing him as she saw the grim and deathly serious look on his face.

"...can we speak for a few moments longer?"

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