#i want to bring this team to a story chapter. fuck everything

[hasarjunadoneanythingwrong]

really though this team is so busted

#i want to bring this team to a story chapter. fuck everything #my comic #fgo #arjuna alter #cu chulainn alter #nemo #saito hajime #oda nobukatsu #leonardo da vinci #ritsuka fujimaru #gudako #decided not to color this so id actually finish it. lol

[b0ther]

ain't even jealousy

you fucking hate the basketball team, but there's no one you hate more than aomine.

pairing : aomine daiki x reader (feminine pronouns. afab) rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content) type : chaptered tags : aomine is a bully im not even kidding he is quite cruel, porn with PLOT, reader is besties with satsuki, reader also has a crush on imayoshi, reader also was wakamatsu's ex, hate sex, semi-public sex, manhandling, vaginal penetration, thigh fucking, semi-clothed sex, some slutshaming going on here, reader has big tits, slight dubcon. word count : 4,323

author's note : title from 'want u back' by cher lloyd. this is comissioned by a dear friend. hope you enjoy mwah. this first chapter (and whole fic im ngl) is centered around the onsen episode.

( masterlist │ ask/request │ ao3 )

After a long and hard day at school, all that you ever really want to do is to quickly get to your part-time job and finish up your shift. Perhaps you can get some convenient store food after that, or go straight home to shower and rest.

Whatever it is that you daydreamed of, it wasn't this.

Satsuki calls out to you, her voice soft against the bristling wind with her lithe arms circle around yours as you try to walk away, dragging her body forcefully with you. She whines your name over and over again, over the beating speaker against your ears before you finally had enough, ripping your headphones off your head, turning to face her.

“Satsuki!” You try to sound stern, but you end up whining in the same tone that she used. You can only be so serious as a high school girl, after all.

Her pink strands fall against her face messily; you use your other hand to tuck them behind her ear as she elongates the way she enunciates your name and begs, begs, begs you to listen to her. “Please! Just—”

“Satsuki!” You groan, shaking her off your body. “I’m busy. I have a part-time job, I’m failing maths, I have club activities. I can’t just… ditch everything and go !”

“You can!” It’s like she was not listening to a single word that you uttered. “It’s a month away and on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—which you can begin asking for a leave day starting today , they will definitely let you if you do it a month in advance!—and maths!? That’s easy! I’ll teach you!”

You slant your eyes at her, arms crossing on your chest. “Alright. What about my club activities?”

“You mean your journalist club? One that encourages their members to leave their comfort zone in order to bring back interesting stories? One that basically has a crush on the basketball team?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

She gasps. “Don’t you love me!?”

“Don’t do this to me…”

“If you love me at all, you wouldn’t even think twice about going with me. Imagine me, a girl, going alone on an all-boys’ trip to some secluded place—”

“You’re being dramatic—” You tried reiterating your point.

“I’m not!” She whines, even louder this time, attracting attention from all the other Touou students around you. “You literally have nothing to lose by coming along! Give me five reasons—five good reasons—and I will literally stop bothering you.”

You shake her off again, and this time, Satsuki lets go and stumbles back a couple of steps as the mischief on her eye continues to shimmer. You have never lost an argument to Satsuki—but there is a first for everything, and you have a feeling that you are going to break some personal records today.

“First,” you take a deep breath as you hold up a finger. “Aomine’s gonna be there—”

“Perfect!” Not giving you a chance to speak, she cuts you off, eyes glimmering like starlight. “You like him!”

She strikes a nerve with this one.

One of your eyes twitches as you cross your arms under your chest. The excited smile on her face fades in an instant, recognizing in an instant that something is wrong.

Recognizing in an instant that something she should have known about is wrong.

She blinks a couple of times, trying to use all that intelligence in her head to analyse the error in what she said (which turns out pretty useless—guess all that she is good for is basketball).

“Have you been paying attention at all?” You begin to blabber after letting out a huge gasp, arms waving around in the air. “We’ve been friends for years— years ! Since the first year of middle school, and you know nothing of  my strong, burning opinion of Aomine!? Flash news, Satsuki, it’s not love!”

“You—” She stammers, “You talk about him a lot!”

“I complain about him a lot!” You correct her, blowing out air in frustration, feeling somewhat betrayed that your best friend had just accused you of liking your archnemesis… your enemy… your… your rival.

The point is! You hate him!

You would rather live in a world without television and the internet and good music if it means that you will have to never hear him say another word.

Aomine.

You shiver in annoyance.

Just saying his name irks the hell out of you. Imagining his face causes a feeling close to that of an explosion in your chest. You just wanna grab him by his face and shove him down a flight of stairs.

You cannot even count all the shitty things he did to you in high school: revealing your crush on Nijimura Shuuzou not just to the then-basketball team captain, but the entire student body; tripping you in the cafeteria multiple times; stealing your undergarments during P.E. and commenting crassly about how you were two sizes under his favourite adult model. Granted, you never told Satsuki about the last thing. That shit was just too embarrassing—you were glad that no one else was in the room when he threw your bra back at you.

Still, your frustration remains at her. Jogging down memory lane boils your wrath, and you close your eyes to calm yourself down.

He’s just a bully.

A damned bully.

And you would be damned if you are going to willingly spend your weekends in the same vicinity as him.

“Well… Dai-chan likes you!”

You roll your eyes.

Yeah, right.

You would agree if she had claimed that he found you attractive, or he thinks you’re hot. But liking you? Highly improbable—impossible, even.

Aomine Daiki does not seem like he is capable of feeling any emotion aside from boredom and mischief. The only thing he loves, or even likes, is probably his beloved Aya-chan from his gravure magazines.

You’re not even sure if he still likes basketball.

Which is a shame—seeing someone so tall gradually shrinking to the size of nothing, even if you despise the guy, the whole ordeal with whatever-the-fuck Satsuki’s basketball team went through still managed to extract some sympathy from the bottom of your heart. You’ve been paying attention to Aomine, after all, albeit not under any positive light.

“Whatever,” from past experiences, you know better than to argue against Satsuki. “I don’t care anymore. And you know what? Aomine himself and your blatant disregard of your best friend’s feelings—me!—should be enough to fit all five criterias!”

You know that look in her eyes, the way her lips press against each other and how one of her hands is clenched into a fist. 

“I’ve been friends with him for 16 years, (Y/N),” she bumps her fist against her chest in pride. “Best friends, even! I know him better than you do!”

You scoff. “People who like someone don’t bully them, Satsuki. Open your eyes.”

“He isn’t bullying you!” She groans.

“Oh, so now not only are you attempting to kidnap me, but you’re also defending my bully?”

“Argh!” Satsuki hugs your arm again, earning her a groan from you. She calls out your name again, enunciating each and every syllable. “ Pleeeaaaaseeee? You don’t have to pay a single dime! You don’t even have to see Dai-chan if you want to. Imayoshi-san will be there—you like him, right?”

You slant your eyes at her in suspicion, not buying anything she just told you. You just know that you will have to see Aomine sooner or later if you come with her to the onsen. 

“No man is ever worth that much headache, Satsuki.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, still shaking you ferociously. “But it’s Imayoshi-san!”

You decided to come along. Because of course you did.

It’s either that, or Satsuki pestering you for the rest of the month, bringing either Imayoshi or Aomine or whoever she thinks will get your attention.

And Imayoshi Shouichi? Sure. He’s hot as hell.

But is he worth dealing with Aomine?

You like to think not.

Satsuki dragged you along to a basketball team meeting—the one that would be discussing the practice trip and the whole onsen ordeal.

It wasn’t like you needed to be there at all. You know just a little more than the average person about basketball. All that you were preparing for the onsen was your clothes and deciding whether it’s you or Satsuki who should be bringing her hairdryer.

“Why me?” You said, crossing your arms when the attention of the entire basketball team was redirected towards you, and Imayoshi laughed. The only problem they were facing was convincing Aomine to come along.

And you were happy with not being the babysitter. You were happy with twiddling your skirt as you sat on the edge of the stage of the hall, scrolling down your social media timeline as the team argued on how to get that blue-haired freak into coming.

That was until Satsuki ruined your afternoon by offering up your name.

To your surprise, everyone in the team seemingly agreed almost immediately to offer you as a sacrificial lamb to feed Aomine’s ego and coax him to at least come to the trip.

“He likes you,” Wakamatsu scoffed when you asked why, and you glared at him, but said nothing. Out of respect, you guess, to the upperclassman. It’s not like you respect him, though. You’re on bad terms with a lot of the basketball team, but no matter your disagreements with Wakamatsu, you will never dislike him the way you loathe Aomine.

“He does have a soft spot for you,” Imaoyshi mused as he flashed you a smile—and lord , you cannot say no to Imayoshi. Especially when he’s being so nice.

You saw Satsuki smirking from the corner of your eyes and internally cursed her.

That was how you found yourself climbing the ladder leading to the rooftop. 

And that was how you found Aomine with one hand between his backpack and head, and the other holding an obscene magazine.

He doesn’t even spare you a single glance—probably thought you were another manager or even worse: Satsuki again. But the moment you open your mouth to call out to him, his head snaps in your direction, an eyebrow raised in amusement as he pushes himself to rest his body against his elbows.

“What are you doing here?”

You try not to let your rage spill. You try to keep the boiling water down. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and continue to climb the ladder before approaching him.

Think rational, you think to yourself, he hadn’t even said anything yet.

“The Captain wants to see you,” you manage to say between your gritted teeth, staring down at him before looking away. Imayoshi didn’t ask you to make Aomine see him, but Aomine probably respects Imayoshi more than you, so you try to throw him under the bus just to get out of the situation quicker.

“Imayoshi-san?” He frowns before repeating his initial question: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I want to punch him.

“You own this roof or something?”

“Calm down,” he scoffs, tilting his head before eyeing your body up and down. You shift your weight into your other leg, ignoring the uneasy feeling on the pit of your stomach. “I just wanted to know.”

Sighing, you glance up at the sunny sky, sweat starting to form on the base of your neck and you are dying to leave at that very moment. You shelter your eyes from the sunlight, despite finding it more appealing than Aomine’s face.

“We’re discussing the practice trip thing—whatever, and also the onsen trip,” you lazily explain, not bothering to hide your disinterest. “Imayoshi-senpai wants you to be present for the meeting. Obviously.”

You cannot fathom the fact that you were explaining his basic responsibilities as a club member to him. What a fucking child.

“You coming with us?”

His focus seems to be misplaced, and you glare at the sky, imagining it was his stupid face.

“I’m going with Satsuki,” you correct, still not willing to look at him. “I don’t give two shits about you or the basketball team.”

“Hey,” he sits up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist before tugging your body towards him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

You scoff, finally letting your gazes meet before pulling your hand away. “Fuck off.”

He, in fact, does not fuck off.

Aomine pulls on your wrist again, this time hard enough for you to lose your balance and fall, your knees landing on the coarse floor as the bottom of your skirt rides up your thighs. The skin of your knees scraping against the gravelled surface and you curse, jerking your hand away only to immediately shove his shoulder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You shriek, annoyed at how he remains unmoving even as you push him again.

He towers you, even when sitting, and keeps his eyes peering down at you.

Maybe it’s the heat that day; summer has just ended, but even the soft Autumn breeze cannot conceal the searing flare creeping up the skin of your cheeks. Aomine slants his eyes and grabs your wrist yet again—you weren’t quick enough to retract away from his athletic instincts, and so, you fall again when he pulls you in closer.

You hiss in pain as your knees drag more against the floor, desperate to find your balance only to grab on his shoulders.

“Hey,” He calls out to you, a lame attempt for your attention. “Look,” he says again, and your dumb ass looks.

He grabs the magazine on his lap and tautens the pages together, showing you the spread where he left off before you interrupted his peaceful afternoon. “(Y/N), remember Aya-chan?”

The girl that ruined your life?

How can you forget?

You cannot hide the distaste in your eyes as your eyes scan her beautiful, black hair falling against the sheer material of her white uniform top. The black lace bra she was wearing underneath is apparent as she pushes her two tits against each other, legs spread to reveal an equally seductive pattern on her panties.

Before you even realise, Aomine’s arm begins to wrap itself around your waist as he holds you up, fingers creeping up the side of your torso, tracing invisible lines before resting on one of your breasts. Your stomach begins to churn in excitement, embarrassingly enough, and you press your legs instinctively when the muscle between your thighs tighten as he continues fondling you.

You circle your arm around his neck under the pretence of keeping your balance.

“Mhmm…” He clicks his tongue, resting his face on the side of your upper arm—his nose touching the side of your tit as his hand palms your other one. “I feel like you’re no longer two sizes under Aya-chan. Maybe a size under? Maybe the same size?”

You grit your teeth. “You talk big. Have you ever seen her outside your magazine? She probably edits her photos.”

He grins, gaze shifting to drink in your frustration. “No, but you’re real, and I’m groping you right now. Isn’t that better?”

“Better than your pretty Aya-chan?”

Aomine raises an eyebrow, humming knowingly. You can’t even believe the word escaping your mouth.

“You have a cute side to you after all,” He muses after a short, mocking whistle. “What do you want me to say? Want me to tell you how much better you are than her?”

“Want you to shut the fuck up.”

“Calm down, tiger.” He laughs, pulling away from your arm. He tosses the magazine to the side, straightening his back to press a short kiss to the peak of your cheekbone. His hand begins to work; he slowly kneads your breast while continuously trailing kisses down to your ears. Your nipples brush against the fabric of your damned lace bra, and he stops for a moment only to tug on where your bud is protruding.

A whimper leaves your mouth.

“Excited are we?” He whispers, voice dropping lower as he presses his lips against your ears. “I like hearing you like that.”

“Shut up,” you run out of words, turning your head to the other side, exposing your neck to him. Which turns out to be a bad idea, as he takes it as a sign to sweep his tongue over the skin of your neck.

“A–Aomine—”

“God,” he chuckles. “Who would’ve guessed that you can be this sexy?”

He pulls away from your neck, and drags his hand from your tits to rub against your torso, feeling the material of your uniform. He presses one hand on the small of your back, pressing his forehead against yours. In a swift motion, he pulls on your body, drawing out a squeak as he lays you down against the concrete floor.

“What if…” he trails, rubbing a thumb under your eye as he hovers over rested body. Your cheeks sear with heat, alongside your chest and the pulsating on your cunt. “...I just fuck you right here?”

“W-what?” You whimper.

He laughs. “I’m hard as hell. You made me this way.”

“You were the one groping my tits!”

“You liked it,” he shrugs, pushing himself off of you, forcing both your legs open as he moves between them. His fingers begin to unbutton your uniform, unravelling the bra you are wearing underneath. Sucking in a deep breath, he stops midway down your torso, and without taking his eyes off your chest, he asks, “Want me to stop?”

Your cheeks flare, and you don’t answer him. You don;t even look at him.

He takes a quick glance at your expression.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“...Whatever.”

A wide smirk forms on his face, fingers continuing to unbutton your uniform all the way down.

“Do me a favour and get up for a bit,” he murmurs, pressing one of his hands against your back once again to get you to sit up. The feeling of his palm against your bare skin sends you to shivers, coupled with the soft wind whistling between the two of you.

“What’re you—”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his fingers fumble with the hook of your bra. It took him two wrong moves before getting it right with the third—the fabric loosens around your body, and you pull him closer to conceal your humiliated expression.

“See,” Aomine chuckles after some awkward motion, tossing your stupid bra to the side when he finally gets it off. “You’re so pretty like this.”

“Shut up,” you groan, nails digging into his skin deeper and deeper.

He pulls himself away from your grip, taking a nice hold on your torso to pull your ass up his lap, letting you fall against the hard floor again.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, roaming his touches against your legs. His eyes cannot leave the heaves of your jugs.

“Stop fucking staring,” your hiss, trying to pull your uniform together, hiding your chest away from him.

Aomine scoffs, using one hand to unbuckle his pants. Your eyes travelled from his face to the loose button on his collar to the wet stain on the grey briefs around his hips to the bulge underneath them.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He tilts his head at your question, furrowing his eyebrows as he takes his cock out from under his briefs. “Fucking you?”

The precum leaks from the tip of his cock, little drops of white strings rolling down his length. He pulls your hips closer to his body and presses it flat against your soaked panties.

He groans at the contact. Your warm slick welcomes him entirely as he presses more against the fabric, rubbing his tip along the length of your pussy.

“S’that feel good?” He whispers, hastily hooking his fingers on your panties, pulling it up your legs, then tossing it to go with your bra. He presses his arm on the side of your head, leaning into you again.

“Don’t put it in,” you whine, trying to hold back your hips from rolling. “You’re gonna get me pregnant.”

“You can’t say shit like that,” he groans against your neck. He positions the tip of his cock against your cunt, and even with your sopping lips, you aren’t sure if you are ready to accommodate his size at all. 

“You don’t want to be a teen dad,” you bite your lower lip, hand going to rub his neck.

“I wanna fuck you, though,” he breathes, using his thumb to run along your wet slit. “Wanna fuck you raw, wanna cum inside’a you.”

You tremble with his words, feeling two of his fingers now circling your pussy. “D— don’t be stupid.”

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, making your cunt wish it has something to tighten around. “D’you know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

He pushes himself off of you, and holds your wounded knees as he watches your chest heaves, heavy tits rolling with every staggered breath. He flips your skirt over, exposing even more of your cunt to the chill.

He rubs his length against your slick, his tip now pushing against your swelling clit. “I’d jack off and wonder if you were tighter than my fist,” he wraps his cock with his hand and places it again on your entrance, pushing in a slow, deliberate motion.

Between your drooping eyelids, you saw him inaudibly mutter a curse.

“Used to wanna fight Wakamatsu ‘cus he’d stuff this pussy all he wanted. Right?” He scoffs with a stupid, satisfied smile that you wish you could wipe off his face. “Shame that you broke it off, huh? Did he dump you when he realised how much of a whore you are?”

“Shut up…”

“Well, I don’t care. More fun for me.”

“Aomine—“

“Who else have you fucked in the basketball team?” He grunts. “In Touou?”

“Shut— shut the…”

You slap the back of your hand against your mouth—not willing at all to let him hear you be satisfied with his size—biting down on the flesh as he pushes his cock in. All of his cock in.

“Aomine—”

His cock is dragging against your wall, kissing every possible inch of your insides. Your hole continues to burn as he stretches you wide open, draining every last bit of energy from inside of you.

“ F-fuck…”

Your hand goes to fondle your own tit, rolling your hard nipple between your fingers, sloppily trying to garner more and more pleasure. His dick fills you more and more, stuffing you full, before finally stopping.

“Don’t act all reserved now,” he raises an eyebrow as you mewl out his name. He stays still for a moment, a bud of sweat rolling down his temple before pulling out of your homey cunt. “You don’t have to lie.”

Aomine bites his lips, letting his cock rest between your pussy lips. He sees the way they engulf his dick, moving his hips to rub against your core.

“Letting me fuck you on the school rooftop,” he murmurs, “where’s your fucking self-respect? Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t your first time getting dicked down up here.”

Your eyes slant up at him, but he quickly shuts down any of your retaliation by pressing his thumb flat against your clit, slowly circling the nub. Your teeth press down hard on your bottom lips.

“We aren’t— we are not …” You babble, putting a thumb between your teeth to stop yourself from moaning, “...having sex.”

He scoffs, drinking in how your eyes roll with your head turned to the side.

“I was inside you just a moment ago.”

Filthy noise of his cock squelching against your cunt filled the air—if someone were to come after you, they would hear Aomine’s dick fucking your pussy lips.

“Fuck,”Aomine spits, pressing your legs tightly against each other then down on your lips.

“A-ah,” You gasp as he drills into your thighs, the tip of his cock rubbing quick and hard against your swollen clit. “Oh my God—”

“Are you cummin’?” He breathes, one hand reaching to roll your tit on his hand. “Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine at the nickname. He snickers, “You’re so sexy like this, y’know that?”

Your back arches, little whimpers of encouragement swallow your pride whole as you fall completely into him. Aomine grunts at the expression, seeing the lewd expression on your face. He picks up the pace, slamming his hips against your ass.

“M’gonna cum,” he hisses. “Fuck. Wish I could shoot my load into your tight little cunt.”

“Fuck it,” you manage to spit between your groans, “F-fuck it. Just— oh God, just don’t stop—”

Your words rile him up even more—he tightens his grip on your leg, his fingers bruising your fragile skin. Your head begins to spin. Your slam your fists against the ground and your mind numbing orgasm comes the moment strings of Aomine’s thick, white cum comes flying down your skirt and stomach.

“Shit,” he loosens the grip on your legs, letting them fall even with your still convulsing ass and core. His gaze stays on the tip of his dick, the white cum oozing from it, then to your face—your parted lips, dumb eyes, and the sweat dripping down the side of your head down your neck.

He feels himself getting harder as he watches your plump lips whine, wondering how they would wrap around his thick length, if the colour of your lipstick would stain the veins of his cock.

“You coming to the onsen trip?” Aomine tries to distract himself.

You roll over, blindly reaching out for the bra that he tossed God knows where.

“Fuck you.”

#knb #one-shot #chaptered: ain't even jealousy #commissioned #aomine #aomine daiki #kuroko no basuke #kuroko no basket #kuroko's basketball #smut #aomine smut #aomine x reader #aomine x you #knb smut #aomine x reader smut

[okthatsgreat]

did anybody see the newest episode of danganronpa 52 lollllllll

#there is something deeply wrong with team dr im afraid #A DEATH SO SOON JESUSSSSSS where was the ult cardiologist at......... #dr52 liveblog #dr52 spoilers #lee chat

5 notes

🐻 dangronper Follow

Gonna try getting into the new season lol, I stopped watching at season 37. No spoilers please

🐻 dangronper Follow

Okay wow a lot has changed! Everything is so high tech now??? I kinda miss when they just kept it more simple and had them all locked in a school ngl but maybe thats just me liking season 1 lol. Im really liking Jiro so far Im hoping he at least makes it to chapter 3 because I really wanna know more about that guy

🐻 dangronper Follow

You've gotta be kidding.

#CHAPTER ONE? HE DIED CHAPTER ONE? #THIS IS WHY I HATE ALL OF THE NEW SEASONS SO FUCKIGN BAD #THEY ONLY CARE ABOUT SHOCK VALUE AND THEY DONT CARE ABOUT STORY #THAT DEATH MAKES NO SENSE THERE ARE YOU ACTUALLY JOKING #Im logging off.

4 notes

💀 youvegotthatrite Following

12,433 notes

🫖 nagitosleftleg Follow

just a reminder that wishing death on any of the danganronpa writers makes you a terrible person and all of your favorite danganronpa characters hate you if you do that! 🤗 this is danganronpa so a lot of them will die 🤗 that doesnt mean you get to be a dickhead to team dr 🤗 get over it! 🤗

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

oh my god can anybody in this fandom just be normal and not use this weird passive aggressive tone for every single post. the writers do not give less of a fuck and neither do the actors theyre all dealing with their own shit

#i hate this fandom istg. and stop calling them characters the flashback light doesnt make them entirely fake #theyre still actual people #with feelings #danganronpa 52

769 notes

🍀luckyguy Follow

this is NOT what ultimate hope makoto naegi would have wanted

#dr52 spoilers #lucky student killed first chapter <;/3 #shut up you [txt]

4,013 notes

🔧 sorryiwasbornstupid Follow

kazuichi sighted in the new post-season promo video he looks so g.ood .... . id let him do anything to me

🌸 neverminded Following

@kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial

🔧 sorryiwasbornstupid Follow

HELLO?

34 notes

🔪 danganronpa Following

Puhuhu! New episode of DANGANRONPA 52 out TODAY at 1pm JST! Make sure to bring your popcorn and your bagels, this episode sure gets.... despairful 👀You won't wanna miss it!

🍀luckyguy Follow

K

🔱 ultscubafan Follow

U

🎆 chickencoopexplosion Follow

N

🫖 nagitosleftleg Follow

G

🎸 lightmusicplayer Following

P

9,012 notes

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

can early season purists please get their heads out of nagito komaedas ass. he does not want to fuck you

106 notes

🎞️ kirigiririririri Follow

Waiittttt Jiro is so cute actually XD He keeps tripping over his shoelaces in the background of scenes LOL he's so smol ..............

🎞️ kirigiririririri Follow

I'M GONNA KILL MYSELF

#he's DEAD?????????????????????????????????

2 notes

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

keep in mind the danganronpa actors are still real people and they can see all of you thirsting over them ok. please be normal. just because they went through the effects of the flashback light doesnt mean its ok to be a fucking weirdo to hajime whenever he walks outside

🧊 kokoroicebox Follow

They're celebrities. People are going to find celebrities attractive, especially if these are people they see on screens and billboards every day. If you pick up the nearest magazine you find you're probably going to find Junko Enoshima in it. And maybe you should consider that those "weirdos" who are walking up to Hajime are simply fans that want to greet him. We've watched these people fight through hell, cry, laugh, and find hope along the way. Of course we are going to get attached to them, especially to those of us who have been keeping up with them for a long time now. You're basically asking a bunch of teenagers to close their eyes and pretend their favorite media doesn't exist.

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

i literally did not say that

🌀 cageofdeath Follow

have you maybe ever considered that maybe some people get hyperfixations??

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

oh my fucking god.

🎸 lightmusicplayer Following

anybody in this thread smoke weed

1,034 notes

🍊 hinataorangejuice Follow

OKKKKK WAIT WHY IS RANTARO KINDA 👀👀👀

#the way he got so serious while investigating.............. #wasnt a huge fan of him at the start but he's growing on me lowkey #dr52 #danganronpa 52 #dr52 #orange speaks!

29 notes

💀 youvegotthatrite Following

JIROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#FUFUUUCUCKKCKCCKKKCKKCKC I REALLY LIEKD HIM!!!3!@!#(!# #FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK #ORUUGH WHY COULDNT HAVE BEEN MOMO #dr52 lb

8 notes

🍧minimarruuuu Follow

no chapter 1 death is ever gonna beat sayaka imo #girl

#it just really started the series off so well and no other chapter 1 victim has impressed me tbh #ugh but idk shes kinda annoying now with all of her interviewssss like girl its ok to not smile sometimes lmfao #sayaka maizono #dr52 critical #maru.txt

11 notes

🎸 lightmusicplayer Following

guy ists ok hes not actually dead hes just sleeping guys

#guys #danganronpa 52 #danganronpa 52 spoilers #<- ??? just in case

🔍 kirigiri Following

a

🍊 hinataorangejuice Follow

ok queen speak your truth i guess

🌸 neverminded Following

THIS MIGHT BE A CLUE THIS MGIHT BE A CLUE TO JIROS KILLER IM LOOKIGNGGGGG SO HARD AT AKEMI RIGHT NOW

🎆 chickencoopexplosion Follow

i think she might have just accidentally posted a draft lol

🌸 neverminded Following

I dont know............. team dr has done this before where they leave littel clues in places and this seems a little TOO coincidental

🔍 kirigiri Following

I hit the post button too early.

🌸 neverminded Following

KYOKO KIRIGIRI?

43,033 notes

🐰monomini Follow

okkkkk im kinda over rantaro already lmao. heres hoping we dont get another season of him

1 note

#today i would like to present to you: what if danganronpa actually was a tv show and we all had tumblr #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #lee chat

[silverstonesainz-archive]

and now?

and when all is said and done... what now?

summary: the one where we hope the streets of monaco won't betray them again. pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver (nicknamed fleur) word count: 6.1k warnings: google translate french, profanity, tad bit angsty and sad. depending on who you are, you may cry

note: this is it. the final chapter of this series. i hope that this provides enough closure for fleur and charles. i want to say thank you to every single person who has supported this fic and has encouraged me to continue. s/o to my ferrari antis for dealing with me and for hyping me up. truly would've never been able to finish this without them. and of course this story wouldn't be possible without my lovely 🌸 anon. luv u nonnie!!! cheers to the end of an era. cheers to charles and fleur

masterlist

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

True to his word, Charles left you alone. No calls, no surprise visits, no more waving to each other. Friends to lovers, lovers to friends, friends to strangers. But that’s what you wanted right? This is what you meant when you said you needed space and time. 

It hurts you, as much as you hate to admit it. Charles’ cold demeanor hurts you, stings like you’ve never known. But you could never bring yourself to right your wrongs, to knock on Charles’ door to say that you were wrong and that you need him in your life in some capacity or another. But that felt selfish and wrong. You love Charles too much to ever treat him that way, to ever deduce him down to anything less than what he’s worth. Because he is more than your best friend, more than your first love. He is a person worth loving back with as much ferocity as his, worth all the respect a person had to offer. But you’re not sure you’re ready to give that all back to him. You didn’t want to hurt him more than you already have.

2022 was a season filled with challenges, and 2023 was no different. You were fighting tooth and nail in your baby Blue, all while watching Charles completely dominate the season. You watched from afar, every podium, every win, every struggle, and every triumph. You supported him silently, and truly you knew you could never stop. You wonder if he still did the same for you. 

Monaco, a full year since you had won the race and set everything in motion. Your greatest win, and your biggest loss. Race weekend goes as it does, with media and practice all in between. You truly felt the pressure of the weekend starting to weigh you down, the judging stares wondering if you were going to pull it off like you did the year before. Your heart felt heavy as you climbed into your car as qualifying started, helmet on and hands gripping the wheel tightly. 

“Okay Fleur, Tsunoda, De Vries, Stroll, and Piastri are out on the track. You’re all set to go.”

The first two rounds of qualifying fly by, you manage a P13 and P7 respectively. Now, your hands are shaking, clammy beneath your gloves as you prepare for the final round. You ask Lucas to read you the top times of Q2, and low and behold Charles topped the field. 

“Just need to be ahead of the Mclarens Fluer, that’s all we ask.”

Lucas’ reminder is of no comfort, but it is what he sends you off with. By the time you make it onto the track, Carlos, Max, and Checo were zooming past you on their flying lap. You did your best to stay out of their way, moving left and right to heat up your tires while creating enough space to give yourself a good start. Nerves begin to settle deep in your gut as you approach the starting line. You inhale deeply, pushing full throttle as you speed through your flying lap. The track is engraved in your memory, you could drive the circuit with your eyes closed. 

You steer, shift gears, you try to do everything correct. And at the end of it all, by some twist of fate you end up P2. 

“I don’t know how the fuck you did it Fluer, but you’re P2. Charles is P1.”

You don’t hear the rest of what your team has to say to you. All the congratulatory remarks fly over your head, ears ringing as you pull in front of the number two. Your blue Alpine, splitting Charles and Max. You have to sit in your car for a moment longer, trying to calm your nerves. Slowly, you begin to climb out of your car, slipping off your headgear as you approach the two boys who were in deep conversation. You try to make yourself small as you grab your water bottle and towel, but Max is quick to come over and shake you by the shoulders.

“Look at you Flower!” Max teases, “Beat me by eight–hundredths of a second!” 

Your cheeks turn red, “It’s Fleur,” is all you manage to say. 

“Be careful Charles, she might come and take your title.” 

You choke on the water you’re drinking. Charles smiles, avoiding your eyes, as he shakes his head at Max’s comment. You know the Dutchman meant nothing by it, the cheeky smile on his face proving he was just trying to make a joke. He didn’t know any better, didn’t understand the newer significance Monaco held for the both of you. Max walks off, leaving you and Charles to stand there awkwardly. 

“Good job today,” you say. 

He smiles, muttering a thank you before he turns to watch Max give his interview. He doesn’t try to talk to you, doesn’t even spare you another glance. You nibble on your bottom lip, eyes fixated on the opening of your water bottle as you try to distract from the pang in your chest. Max doesn’t take too long, and soon you are taking the mic from him to take your turn in front of the camera. It’s all a blur, just one generic question after the other. You keep your answers short and curt, and you wonder if it’s obvious you’re aching to disappear. The photo op was nothing short of awkward, with Charles hovering over your skin as he pretends to hold you close. You feel your throat tightening as you walk away, and you try to fight back the tears throughout the rest of the day.

You find yourself dreading to get into the car that Sunday. The nerves were sitting, brewing within you and you found yourself bent over the toilet just thirty minutes before you had to get into your seat.

“Fleur, if you can’t do it it’s okay. No one will be mad. Mick is on standby, ready to hop in if you need it,” Lo coos, rubbing your back. 

You shake your head, grabbing some toilet paper to wipe the sides of your mouth. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” 

“Are you sure?”

You nod, flushing the toilet and standing back up. Your reflection shows you your bloodshot eyes, tear tracks staining your cheeks, and your nose runny. You looked ridiculous. You quickly rinse out your mouth, blotting your face dry with the paper towel before returning to the garage. All eyes are on you, everyone suddenly worried and well aware of how differently you’ve been acting all week. Esteban is by your car, smiling sympathetically.

“Est-ce que ça va?” He asks, rubbing your back. 

“Je vais bien.” 

He bids you goodluck before returning to his side of the garage. It isn’t long until you’re driving your car around the circuit, pulling up right next to Charles in the front row. Your eyes fall shut, head resting back against your seat as you take deep breaths. 

You don’t see it, the way Charles is looking over at you as he climbs out of his car. He watches the way you sit so still, so quietly in your baby Blue, he was worried you might’ve passed out. He only looks away when he sees you stir, undoing your seatbelts and removing the HANS device from around your neck. Lo is by your side immediately, coaxing you to drink water which you are quick to refuse. He wonders what’s wrong, almost tempted to walk the few short steps and ask. 

It must be the nerves again, he thinks to himself. You were always one to get sick before important races, sometimes resorting to throwing up just to feel a little at ease. He wonders if you still pop Mentos in your mouth– specifically spearmint– to remove the acidic taste in your mouth. You do, his question answered when he sees Lo hand you a green cylindrical package. He nearly does it, nearly brings himself to walk over and wish you luck, but soon Max is patting his back and he realizes the anthem is about to start.

You and Charles are placed right next to each other, ahead of all the drivers, as you wait for the anthem to play. You don’t say anything to each other, don’t spare him a glance, nothing. The air is thick, awkward, as you both try to pretend that the other isn’t there. The anthem plays, and your head falls backward ever so slightly. Your eyes close and you begin to get your mind back in the proper headspace. You try to forget the nerves, to forget about the event of last year, reminding yourself that they don’t matter anymore. You try to talk yourself off a cliff you’ve made for yourself, and hope to god that you’ll come out of it alive. 

The anthem ends, and the roars of the crowd begin to grow in volume. Goosebumps form on your skin at the sound of the fans chanting for you and Charles, screaming wishes of good luck and love. It fills you with courage, happiness, and almost makes you feel whole. It is only then do you look up at Charles, smile small but resilient and filled with good intentions. His eyes are curious as he stares back at you, watching to see what you were about to say next.

“Bonne route, je suis si fière de toi.” Have a good drive, I'm so proud of you.

Charles’ eyes grow wide, surprised that that was the first thing you’ve said to him since Monza the previous year. Your father’s words, an old tradition you both had packed away for nearly a year. It sparks a bit of hope in him, but he’s quick to shut it down, shaking his head. He smiles back, genuine and shy as he nods.

“Bonne chance Fleur,”Good luck Fleur. His voice is soft, clipped of any emotion. They both stand there, unsure of what to say or do next. No one moves to hug the other, no knocks on the helmet, just frozen in place. Charles finally makes the first move, nodding and turning away to move straight to his car. 

You can’t help but feel slightly defeated, almost downright foolish for saying those words. You shouldn’t be surprised at his response, and you scold yourself for hoping for anything different. 

You climb into your car, gear on and fingers gripping the wheel tightly. Once again it was you, your car, and the streets you call home. And just as last year, the roads you grew up on did not betray you in the slightest, and neither did it betray Charles. 

“P2 Fleur! Amazing drive today, fucking phenomenal once again. The people are happy, singing!

You scream out in utter joy, rounds of thank yous to every single person on your team tumbling past your lips. Your P2 can only mean one thing and it makes your heart soar.

“Results are Leclerc P1, you P2, and Sainz P3. Again, amazing drive today Fleur. Can’t wait to celebrate tonight!”

You let out a giggle, all too giddy about the outcome of the race. You slow down slightly on your cool down lap, placing yourself only a couple of feet behind Charles’ car as you both wave to the crowds of people who screamed for the two of you. Monaco’s pride and joy, the top two finishers of the race. 

By the time you park in park femme, Charles and Carlos are already being grabbed and pulled by the men in red. Your team greets you with the same enthusiasm, your smaller frame being carried left and right as they celebrate you. Just as they lower you, you spot the two Ferrari boys chatting on the side. Your feet move before your mind has time to process what you’re doing. You must’ve looked silly, helmet still on as you sprint across the way to jump on Charles. You hear his squeaky laughter, feel his hands wrap around your middle as he spins you around. 

“You did it!” You shriek, squeezing him tightly. 

“You did it too.” He lowers you, pulling your helmet off your head while you pull your balaclava off. 

You’re beaming up at the Monegasque, panting and overwhelmed with emotion. You can see the tears brimming over his green eyes as looks down at you. Your fingers find his, squeezing lightly. 

“Ils sont si fiers de toi, je le sais.” They're so proud of you, I know they are.

Charles nods, shaking tears onto his rosy cheeks. You engulf him into a hug, one he gladly accepts as he buries his face into your shoulder. The people around you scream and cheer, in awe of the emotion shared between the two of you. When he pulls away, his face is wet with tears, eyes red, but a smile on his face. He rests his forehead against your own, trying to steady his breathing. It’s as if the rest of the world didn’t matter at that moment. It’s just you and Charles. 

Charles opens his mouth, about to say something, but the interviewer calling your name cuts the moment short. Charles’ hand squeezes yours before he finally pulls away and lets you go. There’s another shift in the air between you two, the happy moments you guys shared suddenly forgotten. It was as if that small, intimate moment never happened. You put on a brave face, taking the mic from Carlos and walking up to the presenter.

“Fleur, the fans are screaming for you. They’re excited, happy. How are you feeling?”

You smile, “Ah, it’s probably more so Charles than for me but… I’m so happy. This race was beyond amazing. I’m… I’m very happy.”

“Obviously, there were some intense moments between you and Charles during the race. You nearly took the lead a couple of times. Did you let Charles have this race?”

You have to suppress the scoff that wants to come up. Your lips are tight, a forced smile on them. “I’d never just give up a race, as much as I love Charles, I enjoy giving him a hard time just a little more.” you joke, “But no, I never came quite close enough to ever pass him. He’s on a different level today… What can I say, Charles is simply that great of a driver.”

There is a little more back and forth before you pass the microphone off to Charles. You lean against the door frame to the cool down room, completely enamored at the way Monaco loves him. His eyes are glowing, bright and filled with so much adoration and appreciation for the city he calls home. He looks so happy, and you can’t help but feel your heart melt for him. You only stare for a minute longer before you retreat into the building with the screams of Monaco behind you. 

The celebration that night was nothing short of grand, your teams and Charles’ coming together to celebrate Monaco’s pride and joy, plus Ferrari's double podium. The club is packed with people, everyone drunk and sweaty. You spot multiple drivers on the dance floor, all too intoxicated to bother greeting you. Your team is the first to spot you, screaming your name and cheering loudly. There is a loud chorus of your name and other French gibberish as Lucas yanks you towards the table. It took three shots in a row of straight tequila for you to finally find your way out of the crowd and towards the bar. The alcohol is already in your head, the room suddenly just a little warmer, and walking kind of felt like floating. 

You thought that moving to the bar meant being left alone, but really you should’ve known better. First it was Max, then Pierre, and soon after Daniel, all of them buying a round of shots and berating you until you take one (or three) with them. Now the club was hot, you were sweating, and walking felt like you were on a tightrope. In your drunken stupor, you order one Long Island Iced Tea, just one to get you through the rest of the night. You nurse your drink, sipping along as you dance your way through the crowd and towards the exit. The cool air feels like heaven against your clammy skin, wind blowing at you as you open the doors. You hold onto the wall, steadying yourself all while sipping on your drink.

“Fleur?”

Your head snaps up at the sound of a familiar voice. Charles is looking at you from a couple feet away, eyes squinting as he tries to confirm to himself that it is in fact you. He takes slow cautious steps towards you, only speeding up when his eyes adjust to the dim lighting and can make the features on your face. 

“Are you okay?” He asks.

You nod, taking the straw out of your mouth. “So good.” you slur.

He smiles. It’s a half smile, only one dimple indenting his right cheek. “What are you doing out here?”

“Need air, ‘twas hot in there.” 

He hums in agreement, “Yeah… too many people in there I think.”

There is a lull between you two, with Charles leaning on the wall next to you while you nurse your drink. His eyes are focused on the sky, jaw clenching every now and again. He only shifts his focus at the sound of your incessant slurping, as you try to drink every last drop from your cup. You freeze in your spot when you feel his gaze on you, lips parting ever so slightly. 

Charles is enamored by how innocent you look before him, even in your drunken state. Your eyes are slightly hooded as you stare at him, lips plump and shiny as you pull away from your straw and lick the remnants of your drink off them. He knows you’re blushing by the way your eyes dart away, and how your cheeks puff up while you try to fight an awkward smile. The kind of smile that puts your lips into a scrunched, tight line. If it weren’t so dark, he knows your cheek would be even redder than it probably already was. 

“Do you miss me?” you ask, voice small and nearly drowned out by the cars driving by.

His heart skips a beat at your words. It is completely on fire at the close proximity between the two of you. When you asked for space and time all those months ago, he did his best to stay away. He avoided you as much as his job allowed him, even if it pained him to do so. He wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary. The last eight– nearly nine–  months were some of the most unfulfilling times he’s ever lived. It all felt bland without you. Nothing has really ever been the same, and the longer you spend apart, the more he worries that it will always be that way. But in short, he always misses you.

“Do you miss me?” he counters, looking away and down at his black sneakers.

You choose to stay quiet, leaving the question hanging in the air. It’s thick again, thanks to the unanswered questions. Of course you missed him, but it didn’t feel right to say outside of a club while you were very drunk.

“Can we talk?” you ask, “But when I’m not drunk… I want to talk to you.” 

Charles raises his brow, “Will you even remember this?” 

You nod profusely, but even you doubted yourself. You hoped you would remember. Charles reaches in his back pocket, pulling out a sharpie and you can’t help but burst into a fit of drunken giggles. 

“Why do you just have a sharpie?” 

He looks to the marker then up at you before he smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I accidentally took it from a fan.” 

This had you giggling even more, hand moving over your mouth as you tried to stop. There really wasn’t anything funny about Charles having a sharpie, truth be told if you looked in your purse you probably had one too. But the alcohol was telling you otherwise, and so now you’re standing in front of a blushing Charles, giggling like he had just told you the funniest joke ever. 

“It’s not that funny Fleur.” He mumbles, a ghost of a smile beginning to form on his lips. 

“But it is. You’re always so prepared somehow, it’s weird.” 

“It’s not that weird.” He whines. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

You shake your head. “It’s not a bad thing, it’s just you. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

The laughter dies down at your confession, the smile slowly disappearing from your face. You begin to panic, feeling as if your comment might’ve ruined the moment, or even deter him from even wanting to speak with you. But then he moves closer to you, licking his lips before pulling the cap off with his teeth. He places the cap on the end, before grabbing your arm gently and scribbling along the inside of your wrist.

“This isn’t healthy you know,” You comment, referring to the sharpie against your skin.

“Yeah and neither is this back and forth thing,” Charles mutters, retracting his touch and shutting the sharpie. 

You’re about to say something but the door swings open, revealing a very drunk Mick. The boy’s face lights up when he sees you, screaming into the loud room that he found the two of you. 

“C’mon, everyone has been looking for the two of you!” 

Charles nods, walking towards Mick and leaving you completely dumbfounded. It takes Mick grabbing you by the arm and leading you in to finally make your way back to the party. The rest of the night is a blur, with more alcohol and even more dancing. You don’t remember exactly how you got home, but there are bits and pieces of Lo carrying you up and putting you to bed. 

You wake up the next morning, head pounding and eyes burning from the sun pouring through your open window. You groan softly, turning over and trying to go back to sleep. You move in every which way, trying to get comfortable and slip back into a peaceful slumber, but your headache and turning stomach keeps you awake. You sigh, eyes opening as you turn to lay on your back. You’re about to rub your face when you see marks of black on your wrist, and you have to do a double take.

Call if you remember. CL.

You were confused, brain scrambling to remember pieces of the night where you were with Charles. You can see Mick… Max… Daniel… but no Charles. You nibble your lip, grabbing your phone to see if there were any texts from the Monegasque, or literally anyone who could explain the writing on your wrist. Much to your disappointment, the only texts on your phone are from friends and your team, congratulating you and reminding you to drink lots of water. You groan softly, sitting up and clutching your head. 

You move about your day nursing your hangover. You sit on your couch, staring at the letters on your wrist over and over, just hoping that something will click. Call if you remember. Remember what? You wonder if you said something stupid, maybe pissed him off, or even worst: hurt him even further. You groan softly, falling back on your couch with your hands over your eyes. Your memories of the night are an incomplete jigsaw puzzle that you are so desperately trying to put together. The feeling of not knowing eats you alive. It makes your stomach turn, heart thumping sporadically beneath your chest. 

You must’ve laid like that for another ten or so minutes before finally deciding to pick up your phone and dial Charles’ number. The phone rings thrice before he picks up. 

“Hello?” His voice is rough, thick with sleep. 

“Hi,” your voice is small, you wonder if he even heard you. “Did I wake you?”

He hums, “Yes. Is everything okay?”

You stare at his messy handwriting on your skin, the black ink beginning to dull. It’s just quiet breathing for a couple more seconds before you decide to speak up. “You said call if I remember… and I remember.”

You lie through your teeth, and you hope and pray you get away with it.

Charles sighs on the other end. “Okay. I don’t want to do this on the phone. Can I come see you?”

“Yes. Yes I’ll be home all day… so just let me know when you’re coming over.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”

He hangs up before you get to say bye. Your hands begin to sweat, leg bouncing as the nerves begin to settle in again. You decide on a shower, hoping that it will help you feel better and clear your mind. But even after an entire routine, skincare and all, your mind was still drawing blanks. Charles’ text soon comes, letting you know he’s enroute, just two minutes away. You try to tidy up as best you can, making your bed and rearranging the throw pillow on your couch. These little things used to never matter, but now they’re the only thing keeping you together.

Three taps on the front door tell you that he’s here. You feel your nerve endings come alive, setting your skin on fire as you move closer to the door. You unlock the door, swinging it open to find Charles standing there, Monza hoodie over his head and sweatpants to match. He looks tired, his skin is dull and purple around his eyes. But even then, he smiles and mumbles a quiet hi. You step aside, allowing him to walk in. As soon as you shut your door, you’re trailing behind him all the way to the kitchen table. 

It’s funny how time works, the way the universe manages to bring you back to the same spot with the same person just one year ago. You cringe at the memory of Charles begging you not to let him go, and you wonder if he remembers too. He pulls a chair back, the same one from a year ago, and he pauses for a moment. You watch as he stands there, staring down at the chair. Of course he remembers. How could he forget one of the worst days of his life? 

“Do you want to go to the living room instead?” You offer meekly. He turns around, nodding, before walking towards your couch. 

You sit across each other, maybe two or so feet of space between the two of you. You bring your feet up on the couch, hugging your knees to your chest as you ponder over what you should say. Charles watches you from his seat, the blank look in your eyes as you stare at seemingly nothing. He leans back into the couch, pushing the hood off his head before resting his hands on his lap. He rubs his thighs slowly, trying to keep his hands busy and his anxiety at bay. 

You aren’t sure how long you both sit in silence before Charles finally says something. 

“I do miss you,” His voice is barely above a whisper, a slight waver in his gentle admission. “I always do.” 

Your head perks up, and like that memories of the night before come flooding back. You remember asking him if he did, if he missed you. You remember he asked you the same question back, and that you wanted to talk to him when you were no longer inebriated. You remember the way he looked at you, how good he looked under the street light. 

“Why am I here Fleur?” Charles speaks up again, “Are we going to go back and forth again? Am I going to beg to be in your life, and then you’re going to push me away? Because if that’s how it’s going to go I can save you the trouble and just leave.”

You shake your head, sitting up in your place. “No. At least I don’t think so. I want to talk. I want to fix us… whatever that means.” 

“What do you want it to mean?” He raises his brow.

You’re quiet again as you think about your answer. You know one thing for sure: that you wanted Charles in your life. That you didn’t want things to be awkward and to pretend like he was invisible when he clearly isn’t. You wanted the traditions, the helmet taps, and the juice boxes. You wanted it all back. 

“I still have juice boxes before quali,” You say, “do you?”

Charles’ eyebrows knit together in confusion, but he still answers. “Yes?” 

You smile, nodding. “I spent the last couple of months wondering how you were. Wondering if you still drank juice boxes, if you liked the coffee candies I got you in Austria. I think about whether or not you still hate ice baths or if you’re used to it by now.” 

“Fleur…”

“I wondered if you still thought of me even when you pretended like I wasn’t there… if that night in Monza made you hate me. I wonder what songs you listen to before getting in the car, and if you still tap your heart two times before the lights go out.” You lean back, eyes cast on your legs as your vision blurs with tears. “Truth is Charles I haven’t really stopped thinking about you and how you’re doing.” 

You turn away, looking out your glass sliding doors as you try to swipe away the stray tear that escapes your eyes. You can hear Charles move, feel his body heat as he shifts closer to you. The feeling of his thigh next to yours makes you look at him. You watch as he sticks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, pulling a balled fist and opening it in front of you to reveal two coffee candies. The same candies you sent him in Austria last year. 

“I have at least one in my day, maybe two when I miss you a little more than normal. I still hate ice baths, I don’t think I’ll ever be used to it. I have a new playlist for this season… I’ll have to show you sometime. And I tap my heart three times now. One for Jules, one for papa, and one for you.” He balls his hand into a fist, holding onto the candy.

“Avoiding you… ignoring you was the only way I could give you what you asked of me Fleur. But it killed me to do that. My heart always felt so heavy, and I felt like I was winding down this hopeless road. There were moments where I felt like I was going to cave, I came close to walking over and knocking on your door. There were countless times I almost called you, just to get a moment of you. But then… I’d see you smile and I’d hear you laugh and I stop myself. You looked so happy, and I didn’t want to ruin that.” 

At this point, you’re both crying. Every word that came out of Charles’ mouth set your heart on fire, released butterflies in the pit of your stomach, ignited a bit of hope in you. You look up at him, and he smiles at you with tear stained cheeks. He reaches over to you, cupping your cheek to swipe the wet from under your eyes. You lean into his touch for a moment before he retracts his hand.

“I’m so sorry Charles, for everything.” You stammer, your shaky voice betraying you. Tears fall from your eyes, and you scoff at yourself for crying once again. 

Charles frowns, his hand coming to swipe the tears with his thumb. “You don’t need to be sorry. As hard as it was for me, you were right. Time away from me might’ve been good for you, as weird as it is for me to say.” You both let out a short laugh. “It was good for me too I think…. It helped me appreciate things in my life even more. And I never pretended you weren’t there. I always saw you, always heard you. Truth be told Fleur, I’ve fallen even harder for you from afar.” 

Even through tears, he managed to make your heart soar. You are filled with warmth, his words sitting comfortably in your heart. It was like the air was beginning to thin out, that breathing was becoming easier with each passing second. 

“I want you back in my life,” You profess, “I really do Charles. I want juice boxes before qualifying, the pre-race traditions. I want to be able to celebrate with you, and to mourn with you too. I want all the good and bad, everything in between. And I know it’s been a year, and maybe a year too late, but I want to try again.”

You finally said the words Charles longed to hear. He dreamt of his moment for the last twelve months, and yet he finds himself frozen in place. He was drawing blanks, no words in any of the four languages he knows were coming to mind. All he could do was sit there and stare. 

You shift in your seat, leaning your top half back to create some distance between the two of you. “Charles?” No answer. You begin to panic, “If I’m too late then just say so.” Still no answer. “For Christ's sake Charles, say any-”

He kisses you. Charles grabs your face and smashes his lips against yours. Your hands are desperate, clutching onto his hoodie as you move your lips against his own. The kiss is passionate, messy, but filled with love. One of your hands moves from his chest to the back of his head, clutching onto his locks tightly. He kisses you like his life depends on it, like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind. Charles finally slows down, his kisses growing gentle until he stops. His green eyes search yours, looking for any sight of doubt.

“Did you get what you hoped for?” He questions softly, “Did you turn into who you wanted to be… who you hoped to be without me?”

Your forehead pressed against his as you contemplated your answer. The last year has shown you many things about you and what you needed in your life. It showed you the sweet life of independence and the tumultuous journey learning to love yourself can be. So you nod. 

“Yeah. It taught me patience, that being alone is okay. But it also reminded me of how weird life is without you and no matter how far I wander off, or how much I might’ve grown, that I still wanted you by my side. It made me want more. I want more… I want to go all in. Do you?”

He nods feverishly. “A year without you made me love you more, and love who you are beyond me more than I thought I ever could. I want all of you Fleur, so long as you let me have you.” 

You hold his face, kissing him again. He squeezes your sides and you finally pull away. You smile at him, thumb caressing his skin. And as you look at him, you feel yourself bloom under his gaze. His eyes twinkle when looks down at you, bright and lively like you were the sun and the stars in his sky. You’ve never been more sure of anything in your life other than this moment right now.

“I’m all yours Charles. I’ve always been yours.” 

Charles engulfs you into a tight hug, squeezing you tightly and pressing a kiss to your temple. He never wanted to let you go. A year ago to the day, he sat in this apartment with his heart falling out of his chest. He spent that year trying to love you, both next to you and from afar. Charles lived in constant heartache and regret, in fear that he fucked up the only good thing in his life. And now? None of it seemed to matter. All that matters is you and him, holding each other and ready to go all in. 

“Je vous aime. Et je prouverai que je le fais pour le reste de ma vie.” I love you. And I will prove that I do for the rest of my life.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

taglist: @sluts-inc @sidcrosbyspuck @miniminescapist @amsofftrack @melancholyy-scorpio @strawberrypaul @somanyfandomsbruh @allisonxf1 @ohthemisssery @molliemoo3 @idkiwantchocolatee @charles-dimple @claramllera @ellethewitchbitch @sh4wtybrave @ifancycharlesleclerc @earfquak3 @kissatelier @bisexual-desi @alwaysclassyeagle @buenadiabebeta @allforkook @ironmaiden1313 @sachaa-ff @lovingonshawn @moonyinterlude @oneoftwoghosts @llarue @home-of-disaster @gryffindorbraveatheart

and ofc, my ferrari antis: @kodzubear @meteor-lights @coffeehurricanes @bigdiccricc @micks-afterglow

#wtia #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #charles leclerc angst

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 12, Unlucky - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of violence.

Word Count: 1.2k

Previously On...: You learned the extend of Rhodey's condition and, based on Sam's testimony, Carthage is to be held responsible. When Tony ripped into her, Bucky came to her rescue. Much to your embarrassment, Tony called out his penchant for being there for Carthage over you in front of the entire team. Sam overhears how you want Carthage gone; he suggests you, he, and Natasha talk.

A/N: Some interesting information is revealed. Interesting information indeed. This is a scheduled post, so I hope I'm having a good time in NoLa right now! lol

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @doublejeon @pattiemac1

Moments later, the three of you were holed up in your room, as it was on the floor closest to the med bay. You and Nat sat on the couch while Sam, who had quickly rinsed himself of Rhodey’s blood in your shower, and was now wearing your terrycloth robe, sat in one of your armchairs. While passing Jade’s room, you’d put an ear to her door and heard her still crying, the low thrum of Bucky’s voice as he tried to reassure her.

“Spill,” said Nat eagerly. “Who knows how much time we have before Barnes gets back.”

“Yeah, on second thought, this might not have been the best place for a clandestine meeting,” Sam said.

“Just talk!” you urged him.

“Okay, okay!” he began. “So, I think we were set up.”

You and Nat both gasped simultaneously. “You’re not suggesting–” you said, just as Nat said:

“You think Carthage faked the intel?”

Sam shrugged. “I can’t prove it, but none of it adds up,” he said. “To be honest, she was pretty useless on the entire mission. Didn’t come up with a single piece of intel until that final night, and it just so happened to point to an abandoned Hydra base? Come on, man, what are the odds of that?” Sam scoffed. 

“We told her protocol dictated we report it back to command, then wait for back up if the intel was deemed worthy of investigating. She got real insistent we check it ourselves, told us it was probably nothing, but even if it was something, it’d just be an abandoned spot. Said her source told her it had a motherlode of dirt on Hydra operatives in positions in international governments. If we could bring it home, we’d be single handedly exposing the very inner workings of Hydra, and how could we not do that? Rhodey wanted to go interrogate her ‘source’ himself, but Jade wouldn’t give it up; said he just had to trust her.” Sam snorted. “Girl, please. You’re a fucking snake.” You couldn’t help but giggle at that; you’d had essentially the same thought, once upon a time.

“Everything we do to try to convince her to hold off, she fights us on. There was nothing we could say to get her to let go of the idea. But we’re thinking Probie just wants to prove herself in the field, right? We’ve all been there. When she took off, we followed her. Figured we’d at least have her six if something went screwy, and we weren’t going to get reamed out by Cap and Stark if something happened to her out there. But here’s the thing:” Sam scootched forward until he was sitting at the very edge of his seat. “She went in there well before us. By at least three, maybe five minutes, okay?” You and Nat both nodded. “So, my question then becomes, ‘how come the shooting don’t start until after me and Rhodey go in?’ ‘s almost like she went in first and gave them the signal to start firing.” You and Nat stared at each other, wide-eyed. It was speculative, true, but…

“And she don’t come out with a scratch, or a drop of blood on her.” Sam continued. “Plus, I checked her clips when she was sleeping on the flight home. Girl didn’t fire a single shot. Me and Rhodey are in a shootout for our lives, and she doesn’t fire one bullet? Almost like she knew she didn’t need to defend herself.”

“Or you,” Nat added thoughtfully.

“Sam,” you began slowly, “I hate her more than everyone else in this building, but you’re making a really heavy accusation. We would need real, hard evidence in order to do anything about it. She could just really be that incompetent.”

“That’s why I’m comin’ to the two of you,” he grinned. “Computer genius and a super spy. Shouldn’t be hard for the two of you to help Ole Sammy out.”

“Ugh, I hate it when you refer to yourself as ‘Ole Sammy,’” Nat bemoaned. “But I’ll reach out to some of my old KGB contacts. See what they drum up. Pocket, can you go through the Tower’s systems, see if she’s tried to access anything she shouldn’t have? Anything that sets off alarm bells?”

You nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be easy enough.”

“Good,” said Sam, standing up. “In the meantime, this stays between the three of us. Pocket, you gonna be able to keep this from Tin Man? He’s a little too cozy with her for my taste.”

You snorted at that. “Yeah, mine, too. Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.”

“Neither will I,” Nat promised.

“Alright then, ladies, meeting adjourned.” Sam said as he walked to the door. You followed him, wanting to see him out. As you opened the door for him, you met Bucky in the hallway, leaving Jade’s room. 

“Hey there, Buck,” Sam smiled cheerfully before giving you a peck on the head. “Thanks for the chat, Baby Girl. I’ll see you later.”

You and Bucky watched him walk down the hall before he turned to you, eyes narrowed. “Care to tell me why Big Bird is coming out of our room wearing nothing but your robe?” he asked carefully.

“We’re obviously having an affair,” you said dryly, walking back into your room, him right at your heels.

“Well, if it walks like a duck,” Bucky’s voice was angry as he entered your room.

“Are you serious with that right now?” you asked.

“In that case, you’ve been quacking like a duck for a long time now, Barnes,” Nat said from her spot on the couch.

“Oh, hey Nat,” Bucky said, relief washing over his features at knowing you and Sam hadn’t been alone.

Nat stood up and made her way to the door. “I’m gonna head out, let you two work through your ducking issues. See you later, Pocket. Barnes; nice projection work just now.” With a nod, she was gone.

“Listen, Pocket,” Bucky, blatantly ignoring Nat's jab, began, “about earlier…”

“I get it, Buck,” you said, sighing. “You were just trying to protect your friend. I’ll be honest and tell you that I didn’t love the way it looked, and it was embarrassing. But I’m not holding it against you. How can I when you wherefor looking out for someone you care about, even though I really wish you would care about literally anyone else but her? Sorry– that was petty.” You sighed. “Tony made it worse. He’s the one I’m furious with, not you.”

“Thank you for understanding, doll.” He kissed your forehead. “Stark had no right to yell at her like that. He was way outta line.”

“Oh, I’m completely on Tony’s side about that,” you said, holding up a hand when he began to argue with you. “But you and I are going to have to agree to disagree there.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a cute half-grin. “Alright, sweetheart.” He pulled you to him. “I’m just sorry your special day got overshadowed by all this other shit. I know!” He looked down on you, grinning. “Why don’t you pack a bag and first thing tomorrow, you and I’ll drive Upstate, find ourselves a nice little BnB, and spend the rest of the weekend celebratin’, just the two of us? Maybe we can drive out to the Catskills, find a nice spot to look at the stars. You always complain how you can never see them in the city.”

“Yeah, Buck,” you said, snuggling close to him. “‘S long as we know Rhodey’s gonna be alright, I would love to do that with you.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Wait; I don’t remember much about some arcs, but the foxy the pirate arc was fun; if you’re willing to do anything with this it would be much appreciated!❤️

It’s about on child lucky/reader during the foxy the pirates where they take the reader during one of the games, trying to win her back. Since she’s a child and has no idea what’s going on, she starts crying and stuff, but once they win her back that she’s so clingy and won’t let go of them to the point where she just holds onto on their legs when they win her back and if they lose again; she starts fighting tooth and nails to not let go.

Or something else. I just want to read more child lucky stuff if you have any! Thank you for reading, have a good day author!

I keep telling myself that I’m not going to spoil Lucky Break… but y’all keep giving me these plot bunnies and I keep caving instantly

When I wrote Get Back Here! I’d only imagined the deaging to be temporary, but now this ask has me thinking about it being permanent and now Lucky has been factory reset into a four year old. It’s a very interesting dynamic to think about. I’m gonna have to write about this some more… I’m hereby calling this the Little Lucky AU

I’ve written something like this about the Foxy Pirates before actually! It was just a short drabble, here, but it’s got a similar vibe. The davy back fights do not mesh well with yanderes, and considering that normal, regular-ass Zoro suggested just killing them and leaving in the anime, I think I underplayed how dangerous yandere Zoro would be tbh

Ok so into the spoilers for Lucky Break. They would not get Lucky at all. Period. Why? Because they couldn’t have come in at a worse point in the story. Don’t get me wrong, the Straw Hats wouldn’t take it well at any point, but by this point in Lucky Break they are unhinged. Skypeia is a really bad time for Lucky, and it really messes with adult Lucky so child Lucky is going to be severely traumatized by it. Enel winds up being the tipping point for the Straw Hats going from low-key yandere to full on yandere. Everything post Skypeia takes on a darker tone to match it and the yandere elements of the story go from subtle to very intense.

By the time they get to Long Ring Long Land, Lucky is looking like she got thrown down a flight of stairs, electrocuted, and strangled. This is concerning to see on an adult, and is horrifying to see on a literal preschooler. The Foxy pirates aren’t even really being malicious when they try to take her, they’re genuinely concerned (and also suffering under the effects of Lucky’s amulet which becomes much more potent post Skypeia). They have a team meeting beforehand and are all like “so we’re gonna take the baby and leave the rest of them behind, right?” and no one disagrees.

But needless to say, all of the Straw Hats are on edge and fucking feral so this concern is not taken well. This was supposed to be a drabble, but as per usual I have no self control and wrote a whole ass chapter basically.

3.9k words

Resisting the urge to pick at your scabs was hard on a good day, but when you were feeling sick to your stomach with nerves, it felt impossible not to do. Not wanting to make Chopper upset, you move your hands to grasp at the brim of Luffy’s hat. Partially to keep your hand busy, and partially to keep it from falling over your eyes again.

You guess it made sense that they wouldn’t let you participate, but that didn’t make having to be separated from your friends any less nerve wracking. Luffy had tried to bring you onto his boat regardless, only relenting when Nami bitterly admitted that they had a point and you would be safer on land. 

Terrified at the idea of being alone, you immediately began to tear up and protest, but Luffy made a compromise with you. Since the race was going to be so dangerous, he needed someone to look after his hat and keep it safe. So, if you could be brave about being by yourself for a little while, he would entrust this task to you. Part of you still wasn’t happy about this, but you didn’t want to let Luffy down, so you put on a brave face and accepted. 

Now you were left to sit on the cliffside overlooking the start of the race, waiting for it to begin so it could be over already. At least not everyone else will be in the games after this. From your perch, you could see your friends frantically scanning through the crowd. Oh, they were probably looking for you.

Standing up, you maintained your hold on Luffy’s treasure with one hand and waved to them with the other. Sanji was the first to spot you and pointed you out to everyone else. They all swiveled their heads in your direction, and the relief on their faces was palpable. Everyone waved back at you, and Luffy stood up, rather shakily on his raft, to call out to you, “Don’t worry, Lucky! We’ll win this no problem!”

There were some chuckles coming from the audience, and the weird looking announcer guy felt the need to comment on this, “Oh! What’s this? The Straw Hat’s captain thinks they’ll win this no problem? A bold claim to make from someone who has never seen the might of! The! Foxy! Piiiiraaates!”

You winced at the sheer volume and noise of feedback, not able to resist the urge to cover your ears. Luffy’s hat fell over your eyes, blocking out the view but doing nothing to block out the noise. You already didn’t feel good, and that was not helped by the roar of applause and cheers coming from the crowd. 

The breath lodged in your throat. The onslaught of noise felt like it was coming at you from all angles, melding together and ultimately amping up into an obnoxious ringing in your ears. Your knees buckled, making you fall onto your behind as you struggled to force yourself to remember how to breathe.

It’s too much! It’s way too much! It’s-

“Hey!” Two familiar hands fell onto your shoulders, snapping you out of the downwards spiral you were falling victim to. One of the hands moves to lift the brim of the hat just enough for you to make eye contact with your best friend. He smiled, and just seeing it was enough to soothe you a little, “It’s going to be okay! Don’t listen to them, we’ve got this!”

“Y-Yeah, of course you do,” you choked out.

Luffy brought you in for a quick but tight hug, smushing your face into his red shirt, “That’s it! We’ll be back before you know it!”

“Luffy! If you’re not in your boat by the start of the race you will be disqualified!” The announcer shouted, causing you to flinch again.

His grip on you tightened, and while you couldn’t see it, you just knew that he was scowling. His neck snapped towards the announcer furiously, “I will be! Stop being so loud about it!” Gently, Luffy pulled you away from him, offering another smile. His voice was quieter than usual, “Don’t worry about it, we’ll beat them and be out of here before you know it.” 

With a quick pat to your head, he rocketed himself back to his raft, nearly flipping it over in the process. While the exchange had eased your fears a little, there was still an overhanging discomfort about the situation. What would happen if they didn’t win? Who would those other pirates take? You shook your head. No. You’re not gonna think about it! Luffy will win, you just know it.

The distinct sound of grass crunching beneath feet made your shoulders tense up. Hesitantly, you turned to identify who was coming up behind you. It was two people. One of them was the captain, you think Luffy said his name was Split-Head? Yeah that sounds right. The other one was some big monkey-looking guy. You’re pretty sure his name was Hamburger, a funny name but who are you to judge?

Split-Head grinned at you, but it was not providing the warmth and comfort that Luffy’s gave you. It reminded you of a sleazy salesman that your mother yelled at in the mall one time for being too pushy. Maybe he’ll go away if you ignore him? You hope so.

“Why hello there, young lady! Your captain didn’t include your name on the roster, can you tell me it?” Split-Head was now crouched down next to you, much too close for comfort.

You kept your head down and shrugged, “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

This didn’t deter him in the slightest, “Aww, come on! You won’t make friends that way, kid. You can trust me! I’m captain Foxy of the Foxy pirates!” From your peripherals you could see him puffing out his chest in pride. His name is Foxy? Split-Head is more fitting in your humble opinion. He must think really high of himself. “There, now I’m not a stranger!”

It seems like this guy isn’t going away any time soon. You dug your heels into the dirt anxiously, wishing he would leave you alone. “Yeah, well… you’re still strange,” you mumbled.

Split-Head-Foxy let out an offended gasp, then fell to his knees with a gloomy aura looming over him. Wow. He’s pushy, full of himself, weird, AND dramatic. You rolled your eyes and took a decisive step away from him, looking out at the ocean as the race finally started. 

It was then that it dawned on you that this race went around the whole island, meaning that you’re going to have to run to try and keep up. Emphasis on the try. Without a word to the two pirates bothering you, you ran after your friends’ boats. Both of your hands were tightly grasping the hat on your head to prevent it from flying off. Sure, there was a string attached to it around your neck, but you didn’t want to risk it.

Immediately, it became obvious that you were not going to be able to keep up. Even if you were at your best, you wouldn’t be fast enough. But with how injured you were, everything was sore and the pain of your muscles pulling on your scabs made your run more like a trot. The Straw Hats’ boats were getting farther and farther away, and you could feel frustrated tears prickling at your eyes.

There was the sound of… galloping? Yeah, galloping behind you. Pretty soon, Foxy pulled up next to you riding Hamburger like a horse. Man, this guy just keeps getting weirder.

“Looks like you need a ride there, kid. Why don’t you hop on so we can watch this race together, hm?” Foxy held out his hand to you, smiling smugly. Memories of your preschool teacher telling the class to never get in a stranger’s car came to mind. A monkey man isn’t exactly a car, but you think the same idea applies here.

You shook your head vigorously, “No, I don’t wanna go with you.”

Foxy’s smile fell, and his hand drooped. He plastered it back on his face after a moment, “Kid, you’re not going to be able to keep up, just come with me. I’ve got some candy! I’ll give you some if you hop on!”

A stranger offering you candy to get in their vehicle was another thing your teacher warned you about. Yeah, this was definitely a bad guy you shouldn’t talk to. You doubled your effort to run a little faster to put some distance between you and them, “No! Leave me alone!”

They sped up, closing the gap in seconds. Instead of saying anything, Hamburger simply reached out and plucked you right off your feet then dropped you onto Foxy. Naturally, you started thrashing and screaming, “Let go of me! Put me down! Stranger danger!”

Hamburger laughed at your terror, “What a feisty child.”

“Quit laughing Hamburg, she’s kicking up a storm,” he was frantically trying to get a good hold on you. “Calm down! We’re not going to hurt you, we’re help- OW!” You managed to land a good kick to his face. Despite that, he was able to hold onto you. He spun you so that you were facing away from him.

His hand grabbed your face and turned it to gaze out at the ocean, “Look! We’re caught up now!”

True to his word, you could see the contestants. Your face scrunched up in confusion, not seeing Luffy and Sanji’s boat anywhere. Or Zoro and Chopper’s. Were they that far ahead? Yeah, that was definitely it, had to be. You could still see Usopp, Nami, and Robin at least. Seeing them made you feel a little calmer.

“See? We were just trying to help you out,” his smug grin was back. “Now how about you tell me your name?”

As much as you didn’t want to, he probably wouldn’t shut up about it until you did, “It’s Lucky.”

“Lucky? Is that supposed to be a nickname or something?” “It’s my name! You asked and I told you, stop bugging me about it,” you grumbled. You want to get down, but you get the feeling they wouldn’t let you do that. At least you get to follow the race now.

Foxy fished around in his pocket and pulled out some brightly colored objects, “Here, I bet you want some candy, don’t you?”

It’s bad enough that you’re riding with him, you’re not gonna take any candy from this weirdo, “No thank you, I don’t want any.”

He sighed and stuffed it back in his pocket. You hoped this would be the end of his chattering. Unfortunately, it didn’t appear that luck was on your side today. Or this week, really. Foxy held out your arm, scrutinizing all the scabbed over burns on it, “How did this happen, Lucky?”

“It’s none of your business, I don’t wanna talk about it mister,” you huffed. You didn’t want to even think about that ever again. About him. About how cold and uncaring his eyes were. About how much it hurt. Your shoulders started to shake and your lip trembled.

“Whoa, hey it’s okay! You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to!” Foxy brought you in for a hug, but you really didn’t want it. You squirmed and tried to get away from him, but he wasn’t letting you.

“What’s this?! The last remaining Straw Hat boat has broken into first place with incredible speed!” The announcer shouted.

Wait. Last remaining?! How was there only one boat left?! You looked out to see Usopp, Nami, and Robin barreling towards the finish line. They were going to win! They needed to if they were the only ones left.

Foxy cursed under his breath, “Hamburg, you need to hurry to the end goal!”

Hamburger only nodded and sped up. You were kinda impressed by how fast he was able to go. Despite being pestered by these two so much, you were smiling and kicking your feet in excitement. They were going to win this race! And then they would win the other two races, too!”

A little ways before the finish line, Hamburg came to a halt, and Foxy hopped off. You took the opportunity to scramble off him, too. You rushed to the cliff and called out, “You can do it! You’re gonna win!” If they heard you, they didn’t react.

“I wouldn’t count your chickens before they hatch, Lucky,” Foxy stated ominously. He held out his hands and made some weird shapes with them, like he was trying to make shadow puppets. All you could do was eye him curiously, trying to figure out what that was supposed to mean. You don’t have any chickens, why is he talking about counting them? Weird. 

His fingers were pointed right at your friends and then he said something about a slow-slow beam. Your friends, who were previously rocketing towards the finish, abruptly slowed down to a crawl, seemingly unable to move. Your jaw dropped as the other boat with the pointy nosed girl on it took the lead and then, much to your horror, won the race.

You whipped around to Foxy, who was looking quite proud of himself, “What did you do?!”

“I put my devil fruit to good use, that’s what! I can slow down anything with my slow-slow beam.”

“That’s cheating! You’re a cheater!” You stomped your foot angrily, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“No it’s not. I said there were no rules in this race, didn’t I? That means I’m allowed to help my team from the sidelines if I want.” He tried to pat your head, but you slapped his hand away.

“But that’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair, kid, you should get used to it and be a good sport about your team losing,” Foxy had the audacity to try and scold you for your behavior. Who does he think he is?!

“I hate you! Stupid Split-Head!” You kicked his shin before running off to try and find your friends, you need to tell them about this. 

Due to how large Foxy’s crew was, it was difficult to find one of your friends. Especially when everyone was trying to get you to stop and talk to them for some reason. Finally, though, you spotted the red shirt that you would recognize in a heartbeat. 

“Luffy!” 

That catches his attention, alright. He whirls around and then runs to meet you. Knowing the drill, you lift your arms so he can pick you up. He does just that, holding you out in front of him, “There you are!” His clothes were wet and water was dripping out of his hair, he must have fallen into the ocean at some point.

Your first order of business was to return his prized possession to him. You pulled the hat off your head and placed it onto his, albeit a bit crooked, “I kept your hat safe for you!”

“I knew you could, good job Lucky!” Luffy pulled you in to balance you on his hip and used his free hand to ruffle your hair.

Now onto the big thing, “Luffy, that Split-Head guy is a cheater! He’s got a devil fruit that makes stuff super slow and he used it on Usopp, Nami, and Robin! He uses his fingers to do it!”

“Is that what happened?!” The grin he was previously sporting dropped and he looked surprised.

You nodded, “Mmhm! I saw it myself!”

Luffy mimicked your nod, humming in thought, “Well now that we know about it, we can look out for it in the next game. We’ll figure out how to beat it, don’t worry!”

You looked away, picking at his shirt nervously, “Are you sure? You said the same thing about winning the race, but…” 

He tensed up from that, “Hey, come on! Have some faith in me, in all of us. We’ll win the rest of the matches for sure!” Luffy knelt down to put you on the ground, “Now how about you go stand with the others, okay?”

“Okay,” you didn’t really want to leave him, but you needed to listen to him. He probably had important captain stuff to do. It only took a second to spot some of the others. They weren’t far away and were watching your interaction with Luffy. You hurried over, squeezing yourself in between Robin and Sanji.

Sanji dropped onto his knees and brought you into a tight hug. He was also soaking wet. “Were you okay being on your own, princess? No one bothered you, did they?”

“I’m okay. Some people did bother me, but I gave them the slip after I kicked one of them in the shins,” you declared proudly.

Sanji’s face pinched in fury, “Who?”

“Um,” you took a second to remember their names again. “Oh, Foxy and Hamburger!”

“Hamburger? Do you mean Hamburg?” Robin asked, stifling a chuckle. Oh yeah, Foxy did call him that, didn’t he?

“Yeah, that. They kept trying to talk to me and made me come with them to watch the race. I didn’t want to, but Hamburger- I mean Hamburg, picked me up and made me come with. Oh, and Foxy tried to give me candy but I didn’t take any.”

Sanji was scowling and looked ready to go on a rampage. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he let you go and stood up while digging his cigarettes and lighter out of his pockets. He was muttering about caving their heads in later.

The announcer and captain were standing on a stage and said that it was time to announce who they were taking for their victory. Your heart sank and you clung onto Robin’s leg nervously. Who were they going to steal? Would Luffy really be able to win them back? What if they won all three rounds and stole three of your friends? Robin pet your hair reassuringly.

“We have decided on who is becoming a Foxy pirate! It is none other than,” there was a pause for dramatic effect. Your stress was climbing with every second. The announcer took a deep breath and finally finished the sentence, “Lucky!”

Everyone fell silent, but for only a second. Then chaos erupted.

“Absolutely not!” Nami shrieked.

“You said she was too young to participate!” Sanji interjected.

“We said she was too young to participate in the fights, not that she was off the table for this part,” Foxy pointed out with a smirk.

“She’s four years old! What could you possibly want from her?!” Sanji was already mad before the announcement, but now he was furious.

“That doesn’t matter, you need to hand her over now, lest you want to break the rules,” Foxy reminded him.

Sanji was distracted from his argument as he heard a sob behind him. From you. Robin was quick to scoop you up, cradling you in her arms and trying to calm you down. “Now look what you did! She’s crying!” Sanji barked at them.

“I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna!” You wailed, clinging onto Robin like your life depended on it. Which, as far as you were concerned, it did.

“Pick someone else, Lucky isn’t going to go with you,” Luffy spoke. His tone was cool, but the words were sharp.

“Don’t tell me what to do, straw hat. I’m making the rules here, not you. She’s a pirate, is she not? She needs to learn not to be such a crybaby. Besides, once she’s with us she’ll see how nice we are!” Foxy crowed proudly. 

“This is cruel, she’s just a child!” Robin chimed in, clutching you to her chest even tighter.

“Quit complaining so much, it’s not like we’re going to hurt her any worse than she’s already been hurt. We’re probably better suited for protecting her than you are,” the pointy-nosed woman was now approaching you and Robin, looking annoyed. “Now give her to me. Come here, Lucky! Do you want to go get some cotton candy with me?”

Her reaching for you only made you scream louder, “NO NO NO! I’m not going!” She tried to grab you anyways, but Robin was quick to put a stop to that. Arm sprouted from the woman’s body and immobilized her. 

Robin backed up by several paces, “Get away from her, you’re just going to make this worse!”

At this point, tears were pouring down your face and you felt like you couldn’t breathe despite how frantically your lungs were working. You coughed and hacked between hysteric breaths and sobs. Your heart was pounding out of your chest and your head hurt. They were going to take you away. You were going to be taken away from your friends again. Just like in Skypeia.

They were going to steal you.

They were going to hurt you.

“Don’t let me get taken away again!” You wailed at the top of your lungs.

Foxy scoffed, “This is getting ridiculous! Fine, if you won’t give her to us then I’ll tak-”

His sentence was ended abruptly by Luffy’s fist connecting with his face. A sickening crunch cut through the air. Before he even hit the ground, Luffy’s hand grabbed hold of his jacket and pulled him close. As soon as he was in range, Luffy was on him. 

He climbed on top of him and as Foxy was raising his hands to defend himself, Luffy grabbed them and snapped his fingers before he could put his devil fruit to use. Then Luffy began wailing on him, furious, raw screams erupting from his throat.

Everyone was frozen in place, shocked at the display, but then the crowd rushed at Luffy to save their captain. They couldn’t even get close, though. Zoro leapt into action, cutting them down like paper. You weren’t able to see anything else after that, as Robin snapped out of her own state of shock and buried your face in her neck. “Don’t watch this, Lucky,” she whispered.

A hand landed on your head, gently stroking your hair. It feels like Sanji. He confirmed this by speaking lowly, “Robin, get Nami and Chopper and head back to the ship. Prepare it to set sail, it looks like we’re not going to be finishing these games after all.” He peaked around her shoulder to be able to look you in the eyes, “Don’t worry Lucky. We will never let you get taken away again, I promise.”

Many Foxy pirates swarmed around you ready to attack, only to get sent flying by Sanji. He didn’t even look back at you and Robin, “Go! I’ll protect you so just focus on getting the others and going back to the ship.”

“Right, let’s go Lucky,” Robin held you securely in her arms and ran. “Navigator! Doctor! We’re leaving, follow me!” They didn’t need to be told twice, cutting through the crowd to run in tandem with you and Robin. “We need to free the ship and get it ready to sail!”

“Should be easy enough,” Nami said. She caught your eye and switched to a softer tone, “When we get back to the ship, I need you to go hide in our room until one of us comes to get you, okay?”

“O-Okay,” you sniffled pitifully. At least the tears had stopped now. You chose to nestle in closer in Robin arms for the duration of the sprint back to the Going Merry, eager to leave and for this to all be behind you.

#one piece #one piece x reader #yandere one piece #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #monkey d luffy #zoro roronoa #sanji #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #nami #one piece nami #cat burglar nami #usopp #tony tony chopper #nico robin #luffy x reader #nami x reader #usopp x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #tony tony chopper x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #sanji x reader #yandere #platonic yandere #lucky break #little lucky au #foxy pirates

[cherri-balms]

♡﹕𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓, 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓! — PROLOGUE

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ ၊|• 0:00

↻ PREV ◁ || ▷ NEXT ↺

A/N﹕YAY I FINALLY FINISHED THE PROLOGUE FOR MY FIRST SERIES!

This is the first full fledged fanfic I have written in a long time, I hope anyone who finds this finds it enjoyable, I had a fun time writing this prologue chapter and I currently have around a 10-12 chapter vision for this series as it stands, but if this proves to be something you guys like I will be happy to extend the series! I do plan to create a tag list, if you would like to be added shoot me a DM and I will add you to the list! As always any replies will be made through our main acc @caravan-mad!

This prologue pretty much gives most if not all the information about the reader aside from important plot details. I wanted the reader's demon form and time period to be as ambiguous as possible and limit the use of Y/N, the reader in this story has allegories to butterflies.

Not all chapters will have warnings nor does this one, however the full fic will contain dark content and will be under the dead dove do not eat tag.

Some content will include but are not limited to: Unhealthy relationship dynamics, N.SFW, Unrequited love, Yandere themes, Dubcon, and pretty much any tag youd find listed in Hazbin Hotel tbh

𝐄 × 𝐌/𝐅 × 𝟐.𝟔𝐤 × 𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 × 𝐀𝐎𝟑

♡﹕Bored at work performing repetitive choreography and pleasing faceless demons, you find yourself reminiscing on life, death, and limbo.

♫ envy baby ~ ♫

“Lights clear? Sounds clear?” 

“We’ve been fucking over this Steven! We’ll know it’s clear when they finally stop tuning our shit-” 

“Anne chill, we still have six minutes till airing. Don’t waste all your energy on the roadie.” 

“That crowd doesn’t seem to be getting any quieter does it…” The little imp’s observations were now only being met by eyerolls and silent treatment by the two drummer girls as the completed instruments silenced in countdown. 

Lights crew above, sounds crew from behind, and effects team surround. The way every single backstage member of your cast would run and scurry around you to get their various tasks done always made you think of little mice, rats even, so worked up making sure everything was in perfect position before those curtains had a chance to stop separating you, from them.

It was cute enough to make you laugh as though you were still a highschool girl.

“Broadcasting live in 60 seconds!” Dark blue scene lighting begins to fade your entire surrounding to a pitch black, and among doing so freezes your little mice into statues all around. Only the tiniest crack in the fabric ahead illuminated the space with a sharp vertical line down the curves of the figure that stands as the adorning center piece of this particular attraction. Roaring bass brings about a quake to the stage beneath your feet, queuing time for you to give your puppies a treat.

“Awwwe~ Did we leave you waiting long?” The volume of pure passionate devotion always rang to your ears louder than any electrical speaker could achieve. 

The wave of the new future adorned in electrical inventions was something you’ve always been prepared to face; why even in the faint blur of the overworld it was all the grown ups could ever yap enough of! No, that wasn’t where that bitter taste came from.

In the full truth of things, you just never knew you’d stick around long enough to bear full witness to its infection of mankind.

Oh come on. Who are we kidding right now?

“Hi. I wanna people save, all right? ”

You’ve never been more liberated.

“You’re in m-my way!!”

Your eyes have but a second to adjust to the flood of bright neon before life hits play once again. The choreography you, and and the other 4 devils fanned out beside you have programmed into your bodies for the past months flow across the stage with ease. among the camera men you can make out the mass of waving pen lights stirred ablaze after the long anticipation, oh how you love they always use the color dearest to your heart…

“The tightrope falls, broken by others”

Once you felt the rushing high of the stage the first time around tolerance for it subsided immediately after. You’ve seen the looks on those poor saps down in the front row, each one hyper fixated on every movement you make wishing they could be you, or be up here with you.

And of course, you all flash them bright smiles, longing gazes and praise them with verses of purity more fitting for the angelic souls looming up above. Customer service is the utmost desired, as they say!

“What a lady, she’s gonna jump

towards the light and shatter humiliatingly”

Actually, can you even remember when your first performance was? How old were you even? All of this came from a cheap shot of gaining a few quick pennies back in the day. Landing yourself a handsome and rich husband with the filth you wore on your back was the first childhood dream you found dead on arrival, but what you were cursed in status you were blessed with the cuteness that made kittens hiss in envy. To say you had “the voice of a goddess” would mayhaps be a bit too presumptuous, but who were you to refute the compliment when it came your way?

Well, maybe trying to parse through finding the day your career debuted or took off was a fool's errand, but the moment it ended certainly still remains as a burned film stuck to your mind. You stopped caring about the “Oh woes me~ what did I do to deserve this~” a long time ago. Still, the punishment you received in death far exceeded what you ever did to earn in your eyes, more so than your sentencing of eternal damnation.

“High and without care I’m lonely, lonely”

Right on que, as always every time you reach exactly 32 seconds into your first song the intrusive memory flashes the same images of the past over your current reality it almost feels as if you were stuck suffering that fate again each time.

You wish there was more to say on the matter of your demise, but there’s only a brief two second window between staring down some heckling loud mouth making a scene in the crowd and a bomb beneath the stage going off before your soul is falling down under the earth’s crust as a blazing comet onto the asphalt below.

And two days before your 21st birthday too are you serious?! UN-Fucking believable!

“From their idle words, the clown becomes a prisoner”

The only thing you wanted to do was scream in the immense burning agony you were suffering until the whole world knew the kind of pain you were in, but each time you cried not even a croak could get past your scorched throat

Even after the blazes subsided and your charred cocoon was all that was left behind, the inferno decided your vocal chords were going to be its payment.

…. That was it?

This was your payout…

And after all that work…

“It’s the same love as always, no way I’d have regrets”

Surreal didn’t even begin to describe what became of the following weeks, months, you haven’t a clue. The construct of night and day seemed to mean jack in the bizzare wonderland of maddness holding you, only so much telling what shade of putrid red in the sky was darker than the same shade of fucking red from two hours ago! What a productive way to spend your newfound endless time!

Every aspect of this place made you absolutely sick, enough so to have you still praying you just were drugged and having the worst trip of your fucking life, but the horror in maddness is the consistency that lies between the lines. You’re certain that damned illuminated “WELCOME TO HELL!” sign and the stranger you befriended in the mirror was that line that made you finally cave.

“Hey, it's a amazing.”

Honestly, you couldn’t say what specifically led you into the epiphany you had, all of a sudden one day you heard a sudden snapping sound in your conscience, and like that everything made sense to you. Why your life was snuffed before you could emerge from your cocoon, why your makers deemed this your new home, and why that bomb taking your life just wasn’t enough to deem your afterlife a hell.

There was a certain liberation that came with hell that you were never going to get being the glowing little diamond you were in human society, through terrorism, cannibalism and bloodshed one thing would remain a constant throughout devil society. No one would ever give a damn about anything.

Hell became your fucking playground by the time your first extermination came around, and keeping on the move while broke as shit was a cakewalk this time around, but your first encounter with an overlord after catching your foot in the grave in the casino humbled your inflating ego. Chaos for society did not necessarily mean chaos without hierarchy, and going without a voice to call your own put you at an extreme disadvantage.

“LA-LA-LA!”

The crescendo of the opener is right around the corner, for the leading front and center of your group your vocals and choreography had primarily remained reserved for backup. The primary color of lights among the crowd made the obvious clear with who the majority of these demons were here to see, your manager was aware of this more than anyone else.

Your fans tended to be aware of this for a majority of your shows, your parts in particular tended to stand out even as mere background vocals.

“I’m ready for this this lover baby! 

My garden of love is in danger from a drawing hand. 

Truly, this this lover’s crazy! 

In the garden of harm, the bud of a human is a lie-ai-a!”

Sinners rejoice once the solo everyone was edging towards drops with the bass of the loudspeakers and the flares of the strobes above. The pitches your vocals were now capable of hitting and the frequency you were able to synthesize between notes wasn’t just inhuman, it was impossible for any singer whose notes carried on oxygen.

Your manager always made it a note in the writing room or when creating your setlists that overfeeding wolves with delicious treats would dull the taste over time, your solo singles often did well enough to prove this didn’t need to always be the case, but whenever it came to the business decisions you always put your full trust in him. Where you are standing right now is more than enough proof in your eyes that he knew exactly where and when to move his pawns, and in doing so he turned you into a valiant queen.

“Ah! I love you and even things about you I probably shouldn’t love 

I love you too much, on a count of one and two 

Lie-lie loving you, such words 

and doing such things, you’re in m-my way!”

Survival was of the least of your concerns after so much time had passed, but survival was all you could find yourself able to do in your forced retirement. Where you yearn for character in sound you were able to temporarily find when turning to radio, but living vicariously only quenches so much before greed starts cozying up within.

Plausible excuses for your laziness were wearing thinner by the day, even the last sane smolder of human morality trying to keep itself sparked wanted nothing more than to argue you weren’t supposed to be living to the fullest in hell, but the mute silence in your throat was beginning to phase your memory of the voice your inner conscience called its own too, and you'd sooner go mad trying than wither away again a fucking waste.

“Here comes the love maniac who never misses,

Stack up all the whining,

Fall in a high-fi love lie-ai-a!”

Overlords were still beings that had you nauseous upon first glance, your first meeting of one of these overlords had you vowing to never end up in the claws of one again, should you find yourself in a deal you can’t unbind yourself out of. Pride stuck thick to the roof of your mouth and there was nothing more you wanted to do than stick to your morals and prove use on your own, but reality had pelted you with stones throughout your entire afterlife.

You were going to need to write out a loan before you’d find yourself with any ounce of power to call your own, not like you didn’t have options for whom to choose! Even so, you needed to keep a steady head and an even sharper nose. In your ponderance you'd come to realize there was only really one option for you to go to this whole time. Maybe that gambling kitty taught you a valuable lesson on staking bets in the long run.

“Copy their acting and keep the truth hidden

Stacking three and lonely, lonely 

You’re surely a clown, a prisoner”

A bet on the future was what you were going to stake it all on.

“Copy their acting and keep the truth hidden

Stacking three and lonely, lonely 

You’re surely a clown, a prisoner”

Everything about how the world operated changed so rapidly from the days walking in the sunlight to your eternal party in the redlight, the wave of the future had finally hit with the promise for a solution to everyones problems. There couldn’t have been any better timing, if technology was going to be the way of the future, who's to say you couldn’t prove what was achievable? Like that, you had your sales pitch. The hardest part on your end was complete.

“Hey, it's a amazing.

LA-LA-LA!”

“So you were a singer in life and lost your voice in death, and just what the fuck made you think I was the man to go to for this?” Those were the magic words you were waiting for, with his composure shaken it wasn’t long before he was the one asking the questions and allowing the ball to move into your court. Your fingers dance on the illuminated tablet laying on the table once again before you flip it over toward his direction.

~Have your inventions not made it to that level of advancement yet?

Hook, line, and sinker. You had a hunch a passive aggressive challenge toward the ego would be what ultimately won you over with any overlord you chose, but the speed in which he stood from his desk and held out his hand, it felt almost too easy.

“If it’s a new voice you wish to invest in, consider your stocks opened, Monarch!” Finally…

“I’m ready for this this lover baby! 

My garden of love is in danger from a drawing hand.”

“Now for what you have to offer me,” You don’t care. “I hope you weren’t planning on extorting me out of a generous gift and then making the big bucks with it, hm?” These overlords just love to hear themselves go on.

“Truly, this this lover’s crazy! 

In the garden of harm, the bud of a human is a lie-ai-a!”

“I suppose I could just issue a royalty for your voice, after all you wouldn’t be making a sound without my tech. Lucky for you, I’ve been having fleeting thoughts of entering the music industry. So why not invest in each other instead~”

“Ah I love you and even things about you I probably shouldn’t love 

I love you too much, on a count of one and two”

Being owned by an overlord in the end wasn’t so bad, or maybe this is the fated “stockholm syndrome” everyone seems to be crying about these days. Either way, the biggest price you had to pay in the end was just having someone else do all the “business” part in show business.

Naive maybe, but rosey eyed you weren't. For all that he’s done you still fail to see how your end of the deal has in any way repaid what’s given, which can only lead to one thing down the line. You were going to have to give him your everything.

… Yet, how could you find yourself ungrateful to someone who fulfilled your afterlife dream and still continued to provide for you?

“Lie-lie loving you, such words and even such things, they’re in m-my way!”

The audience went absolutely ballistic at the final group pose signifying the end of your opening set, some of the really hardcore fans in the front row you swore passed out the second eye contact was made.

Yet when you turn your chin upward to the VIP section after performing your tricks so well, all you’re met with is a turned back and a schmoozed up producer instead of a tasty bone.

“Thank each and every one of you for coming to see us tonight!!” No, you only wanted him to come out to see you.

Only you.

Hey, Vox?

Can you just turn your stupid flat head this way?

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel x reader #Vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #vox smut #vox x reader smut #hazbin hotel vees #the vees #Hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x you #mdni #🍓My one and only! #🕊Dead dove do not eat! #💔I’ll leave you be… #next next!

[messedupfan]

Chapter 7

Summary: Wanda receives a notice from the Homeowners Association. Y/n goes on a first date with Daisy. And Rachel has her first secret from her parents.

A/N: Yay! Another chapter!! So happy to be writing for this series again. Ugh it was a rough few months but I'm finally getting back on track! Hope y'all enjoy this chapter! Please lemme know in the comments! Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | All Chapters ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Wanda mutters to herself as she reads the letter that was taped to her front door. With everything going on, this has to be the cherry on top. She hates living under a homeowners association. She submitted a thorough request for the expansion that she thought was going to get the approval from them. But instead, she was given a rejection with a notice that someone from the association was going to drop by to review the damage and give her a deadline to have it fixed with the original blueprints. She can't even add windows. 

She calls Pietro as she angrily gets into her car to update him in the bad news. “I fucking hate that place,” Pietro says. “Alright well, you tried. I will let Y/n know and cancel a few orders for materials. I'm sorry they rejected you,” Pietro sighs on his end. 

“Thank you for all of your help,” she ends the call and continues driving to pick up her boys from their sleepover.

Pietro calls you through the radio to meet him at his office whenever you have a chance. You let him know that you will and when your lunch break comes around, you head to his trailer. You're curious as to why he would need to talk to you. The construction team is ahead of schedule and as far as you know, way under budget. Then you think that maybe Wanda told him about your sleepover and worry that he might've misunderstood his sister. 

You knock on the door to his onsite office and he shouts that the door is unlocked. You open the door and climb in. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah,” he shuts his laptop to focus on you and you begin to worry that he's going to tell you to stay away or something. “Wanda's request for the expansion wasn't approved. We have to undo all of the work we started and put it back the way it was.” 

You're relieved that the chat isn't about your night but you're upset by the news. “She can't fight back on this?” You ask as you think of the ways that Wanda could get what she wants. 

“She could, but it didn't sound like she had the energy to. And since we don't own the home there's nothing we can do about it.” Pietro explains. You nod with a deep breath and tell him that it sucks before leaving the office promising that you'll see him tomorrow. 

After work you send Wanda a quick text letting her know what you think about the situation. When she doesn't respond, you assume it's because she's busy with the boys. Instead of checking your phone every five seconds, you get ready for your date. You shower and put on the nicest clothes that you own. You spend time making sure your hair looks perfect and smelling good. 

You drive to the address that Daisy gave you, it isn't Phil's house and you're curious why she's staying somewhere else but when she gets in the car she explains that she doesn't want her dad to know anything about her dating life unless it's someone worth mentioning. “That's pretty much what any single parent does,” you say with a small laugh. 

“I know, my friend comes from a broken home. I just thought after a few bad attempts of bringing people to meet my parents it would be best to have my own place when I was in the position to do so.” Daisy says as she fixes her makeup in the sun visor mirror. “You look amazing by the way. I had no idea that you cleaned up so well.” 

You smile as you take a moment to look at her during the stop light. “Thank you, I try. You are stunning, Daisy. I think I might lose you at some point tonight. I don't know how anyone will be able to look at anything else.” 

Daisy tries to hide her blush as she holds a seriousness in her eyes, “I don't care about anyone else. I only want your attention.” You start to lean in to kiss her but the car behind you honks the horn and you realize that the light is green. “Keep your eyes on the road. Wouldn't want to end up in the hospital on our first date.” She places her hand on your thigh, startling you, and squeezes. 

“Woah,” you say as you take her wrist and pull her hand off of you. Instead you hold it in your hand and drive with the other. “How was your day?” you ask in order to start some sort of conversation. The two of you find something to talk about the entire way to the restaurant, easing the nerves that had been eating at the both of you. 

When you're seated you notice a couple of guys looking over at your table but you don't think much of it. “Oh this pasta sounds good but so does this one,” Daisy says as she points them out on the menu in front of you.

“They do sound pretty appetizing. How about I order one and you order the other and we split it, so we can try both?” You suggest.

Daisy scrunches her face and denies the idea. “Actually, I think I'm going to get the steak,” she says as she browses the menu more. You nod and start to look for something else on the menu. 

After the both of you have ordered you're left staring at each other, sipping your drinks. “Can I ask why you wanted to go out with a single parent?” You finally pose the question that has been haunting you since last night. 

“I have always kind of wanted to date you,” she shrugs. “You’re good looking, kind, funny, wise, and have a good heart. What more could a girl ask for?” 

You fail at hiding the affect her words have on you and grin as you shake your head. “That is a really sweet answer but I'm trying to figure out what you want from dating me. I mean, I have a daughter and she will always be my number one priority. I know that many people aren't okay with that and-” 

“I’m not one of them,” she interrupts as she lays her hand on the table top for you to take. You place your hand on her wrist and the two of you hold each other like this from across the table. “I’ve met Rachel. You've had me babysit her in the past. She's a great kid and I love her. I don't blame you for putting her first. In fact, I respect you for it.” 

You fill with relief at her words and nod, “Thank you, I just wasn't sure. I mean, you're in your early twenties. You should be young and free and not dating someone like me.” 

Daisy shakes her head, “You're not some decrepit person that can't leave the nursing home. You're still young and free and in your twenties. I don’t know what you think people my age do but I've dated plenty of them. None of them want a real connection outside of physical. Honestly, I'm ready to start thinking about settling down with someone. Build a life, y'know?”

You nod and bite your tongue to keep from pointing out how young she is to start thinking about that stuff. You're in no position to say anything because you don't regret the decisions you've made and you know that at eighteen you wouldn't hear that kind of advice. By twenty-two you probably still wouldn't have listened. 

Halfway through what turns out to be a quiet meal, you excuse yourself to the restroom to give yourself some space and a pep talk to stop being so awkward. While you're exiting, your phone starts ringing and you answer when you see that it's Wanda. “Hey you,” you greet as you lean on the wall near the door. “How's your night going?”

“It’s going alright,” Wanda says as she puts the clean dishes away. “Did Pietro already tell you?” 

“Yeah,” you say sadly. Someone asks if there’s a line and you shake your head and point to the phone. You move a little further away from the door. “How bummed are you about it?” 

Wanda sighs, “Pretty bummed but the boys are home tonight so I can’t drink about it. Which is for the best. Don’t want to start that bad habit.” She starts to wipe down her counters. “What are you up to?” 

“Nothing much, just having dinner with an old friend,” you say as you glance around the wall to see if Daisy is okay. She looks bored and picks up her phone. 

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry for interrupting,” Wanda says. 

“Don’t be,” you assure her, “I could have not answered, you know? It’s not your fault.”

“That’s true,” she drags out the word in confusion. “Do you need me to come up with an excuse for you? I can have you out of there so fast, no questions asked.” 

You laugh at the offer, “No, it’s uh, it’s going.” You notice Daisy checking her watch and looking around the restaurant. You sigh as you figure that you’ve been away for too long. Are you avoiding her? You don’t know. “Which I probably should too. I think I’ve been gone too long, I don’t want her to think I’ve ditched her.” 

“Oh my goodness! You’re on a date!” Wanda gasps loudly. “You’re an idiot, go back to her. Don’t tell her you took a phone call either. Just say it was an embarrassing bathroom issue or something just… shit, hang up already!” 

You can’t help but laugh at Wanda as she rambles on, “Arlight, I’ll tell her all about my explosive bathroom episode.” Wanda makes a noise but tells you that it's perfect. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say as you end the call and walk back to the table. You feel guilty when Daisy’s eyes shine with relief and so you start rubbing your stomach. “I don’t want to be gross but that food went right through me!” You joke and Daisy laughs telling you that it’s fine. “So, are you thinking about having dessert here or should we go somewhere else?” 

Daisy hums in thought and reaches across the table for your hand which you allow her to take, “Depends, do you have any dessert at your place?” she asks flirtatiously, almost causing you to have a coughing fit. 

You clear your throat a couple of times as you start to avoid her gaze a bit in order to come up with a proper response. An easy let down that will have her laughing instead of feeling rejected. “Well, I don’t know whatever lies Steve might have told you, but I don’t put out on the first date.” Daisy is confused for a second before she bursts out laughing. You join her a little as you’re able to look at her again. 

“Ok, I have to admit. I was kind of testing you with that question and you passed with flying colors,” she says once she has settled down, you let her know that it’s a relief. “I’ve heard of this twenty-for seven cupcake ATM machine and I’ve been dying to try it but haven’t had the chance. Do you think we could do that?”

“Absolutely! Rachel loves that thing,” you say as you start to flag down the waiter to get some to-go boxes for the rest of the food on yours and hers plates. When the bill is settled, you and Daisy head over to the nearest cupcake ATM and you help her learn how to use the machine. She takes videos to share on her social media and even a few pictures with you to keep for herself. You don’t ask why she doesn’t post them because you’re happy to not have that conversation right now. The two of you walk and talk while you eat your cupcakes. She is a bit more relaxed and you have to admit that so are you. 

When the date has come to an end, you walk her to her door and wish her a goodnight. “Wait,” she stops you from leaving. “I know you don’t put out on a first date, except for Steve Rogers apparently,” you laugh a little at her statement. “But um, gosh I’ve never had to ask this before.” Daisy blinks a few times before gathering up the courage to ask, “Will you kiss me before you leave?” 

You are surprised by the request but it is a date after all. “Yeah, sorry,” you say as you step closer to her. This was weird, you’ve never been asked to kiss someone unless there was tension and right now there wasn’t any. You close your eyes as you lean in and kiss her on the lips. It turns out to be a decent kiss but it doesn’t have you craving more. It’s been a long time since you’ve craved someone. At this point you’re convinced it’s just you because Daisy goes in for more when you try to break away. You kiss her once more to try and clear your head but it still doesn't feel right, so you really take a step back. “I have an early day tomorrow, I’m sorry. I’ll let you know when I’m available next.” 

“Okay, yeah,” Daisy nods as she wipes her lips. “I’ll see you then. Or maybe you could stop by the Hub. We don't always have to see each other for dates, you know.” You agree and say that you'll try to stop by without promising too much. “Have a good week with Rachel.” She says with a sweet smile. 

“Thank you, I will,” you smile back and walk away. 

The next morning you go to Jean’s house to pick up Rachel. While you're waiting, you chat with Jean for a bit about nothing important until you notice her acting a little funny. You ask her what's up. “Nothing, nothing, I don't know anything about anything.”

You shake your head and ask in a low tone to keep Rachel from hearing, “Great, who told you about my date?” 

“No one,” she says as she fails to hold back her grin and you ask again. “Okay, it was Anna,” she confesses. You drop your head as you shake it again. “In her defense, it's your fault that you chose my favorite restaurant to take her to.” 

“Excuse you, I believe I won that restaurant in the divorce,” you say back lightly instead of reminding her that it was your favorite restaurant first. 

“Whatever, I was craving it last night and so we got a pick up order and she saw you when she was picking it up,” Jean finished the story. “She’s cute,” she says next and you take a slow breath. 

“She took a picture?” you rub your face, upset by the lack of privacy in your life lately. You never signed up to be a celebrity. 

“What? You think I was just going to believe her when she said that? I needed proof!” Jean exclaims, causing you to tell her to quiet down. “Sorry,” she grimaces. The both of you wait to hear any sign of Rachel before continuing. “So, how'd it go?”

“It went,” you reply. 

Jean rolls her eyes, “Come on, you can do better than that!” 

You sigh and sit up as you think about how to describe the date to your ex-wife. “It was good. A little bit awkward. She’s had a crush on me since she was seventeen, so it's-” 

“Hold on what,” Jean stops you with concern and fear in her eyes. 

“Oh! Sorry, she's twenty-two, completely legal. Um, remember Phil's daughter? She used to babysit Rach before she went off to college?” You try to jog Jean’s memory and it takes her a second to process. She pulls her phone out to look at the picture again and she starts to finally recognize her. 

“Oh?” she says as she straightens up and scowls at the picture. “She looks… grown up,” she says slowly. 

“Yeah well, she asked me out and Kate kind of encouraged me to say yes. Then I talked to Phil about it and he seemed to be somewhat okay about it,” you clear your throat as you shift uncomfortably from the lack of playfulness from Jean. “It’s not weird… is it?” 

Jean shakes her head, “Just, please tell me that you didn't find her attractive when we had her babysit for us when we were doing couples therapy.” 

You pinch your eyebrows together and frown, a little offended by the accusation. “I didn't know her when we were married,” you state first as you try to remember that first year that you worked at the bar. You know that you started there at twenty-one but you don't remember hiring Daisy then or even meeting her. Did you?  

“Well, that's kind of a relief, ” Jean mutters. “You got the job working for her dad to help us pay the therapy bills remember? And he offered for Daisy to watch Rachel when we needed,” now she is trying to jog your memory but as you've pointed out before, you don't really like to think back on that year. You shake your head as you come up blank. Is Daisy a year younger than you originally thought she was when you met her? The math isn't really holding up here. 

“That doesn't make sense, she said that she had a crush on me when she was seventeen. When we met,” you say. “She would be twenty-one now if we met when I was twenty-one.” You try to understand what Jean is saying. 

“Honey, her birthday is July second, she turned twenty-two only weeks ago. And you’ll be turning…” she draws out the end to let you catch up. 

“Twenty-eight this year,” you conclude as it all starts to make sense now. “Huh, I really should have paid more attention in school.” Jean laughs because she tried every year to get you to focus more on school instead of her or the next get rich fast scheme you always had cooking up. “Anyway, I wasn’t paying attention to her in that way back then, I promise. It’s still kind of hard for me to think of her in that way. Except it’s not like I still see her as a kid I just think I see her as more of a friend,” you explain. 

Jean nods, “So it didn’t go well.” 

“I wouldn’t,” before you can say anything else, Rachel is running towards you with the things she wanted to bring with her. “Hey, munchkin!” You rise and greet her with a tight hug. She hugs you back just as tight and it warms your heart knowing that your daughter loves you. “Are you ready? Because we have to get to Ms. Wanda’s a little earlier today.” 

“Yup, all ready! I have something I really want to show Billy and Tommy,” she says as she moves her bag around. “That’s what took me so long. Sorry, I needed to get it done before we left. I’ve been working on it all week.” You smile, impressed that she worked all week on something to show her friends. 

“It’s okay, I got to catch up with mommy,” you say as you tug one of the shoulder straps on her bag. “Do I get to see what you made?” 

“No,” she shakes her head before she turns around and opens the front door. “Let’s go!” She hops to your work truck and climbs in. 

You laugh and look at Jean, “Have you seen it?” 

She shakes her head, “Nope, she wouldn’t let me or Anna in her room because of it.” 

“Wow,” you look at her from the entryway of the home and she is sticking her head out of the window calling for you to hurry up. “I can’t believe it, ten-years-old and she already has secrets from us.” 

Jean shrugs, “It was bound to happen sooner or later.” 

“I know but I was hoping for later. Much, much later,” you say as you wipe fake tears. Jean pushes your arm as she calls you ridiculous, you smile as you pull her in for a half hug. “I better go. I’ll see you next week.” She rubs your back and pats you a couple of times. 

“You better update me on your whole cradle robbing situation,” she teases you. 

“I should have seen that coming,” you walk away as she calls you a few more names, making you laugh all the way to the truck. Rachel asks what’s so funny. “Your mom is a weirdo,” you say. Rachel agrees and then says that momma Anna is even weirder and you have to refrain from laughing by telling her that’s not nice. She says it’s true and you cut the conversation by playing her music on the car stereo. 

You and Pietro work fast in rebuilding the wall so that Wanda doesn't get into too much trouble with the representative from the homeowners association. It was turning out to be easier putting it back together than it was tearing it down. Of course though, now you don't have to worry about removing the wrong thing and causing the entire house to collapse. Everyone lucked out that you and Pietro hadn't started on expanding the floor yet. That would have been a little more difficult to fix up in the short window of time that Wanda was given. 

When lunch comes you and Pietro scarf the food down in order to keep working. Especially since the new siding for the house got delivered to the job site across town and the two of you had to go pick it up. The original siding for the house was destroyed the previous weekend when the two of you finally made it that far. Pietro thought it would be best to order new material at the time anyway since they would need it to cover the new extension of the house. 

All day you and Pietro are working inside and outside of the house to get the wall repaired with the material that you have available at the moment. Unfortunately, the beams that are needed in order to continue won't arrive until tomorrow. Which means that you are heading home earlier than expected. You slowly walk up the stairs to warn Rachel that you're packing up to leave but when you get close to the boy's room, you overhear them talking about some sort of plan. 

You take a small peek into the room through the crack in the door that should have been wide open. Rachel was holding up a notebook as if she was presenting to the boys sitting in front of her. That's possibly what she was working on. You try to get a better look by opening the door a little more but it knocks over a noisy toy and causes the four kids to scatter and pretend to look normal. You give Rachel a weird look as she asks you if you're done working. You confirm and then leave her to collect her things so that you can do the same. 

“Hey,” Wanda calls as you pass her office on the way back to the stairs.  “Do you have a second?” You look around to be certain that she's talking to you before you approach. She isn't on the phone and no one else is in the hall, so it could only be you.

“Uh, sure,” you say as you step closer. You didn't get to interact much with Wanda today and you couldn't tell if it was you avoiding her or her avoiding you. Last night after the awkward kiss with Daisy, you couldn't help but compare how you wanted to kiss Wanda the night before. Then you started to think that maybe if you got to kiss her, maybe it would feel right. But you couldn't test that theory out yet. Not when you're in too deep with Daisy. 

“Just for some peace of mind,” Wanda closes her laptop and focuses her attention on you. “And I don't want to make things awkward between us by saying this but, I feel like it kind of needs to be addressed.” Her rambling has you a little concerned but you let her continue. “I know we've said it to other people but I don't think we've really said it to each other. Um, we are just friends, right?” 

There is a slight pain in your chest when she says that but it's the truth. “Of course,” you say confidently. “Yeah, we're just friends,” you state again, this time with an unintentional undertone of disappointment. You clear your throat and look back before stepping in the office a little more. “Why did you feel like that needed clarification?” You ask, against your better judgment.

Wanda looks around her desk as if she wrote the answer somewhere but not a single blueprint can help her. “No reason it's just, I don't know… well, so many people assume things and I just want to make sure we're on the same page. Yeah, that's it. Just, I don't know. Forget I asked,” you don't press for more because you can tell that part of her might feel the way that part of you feels but you aren't quite sure what to do with that feeling. 

“Okay, well, we're done for the day, I was about to-” 

“How was your date?” she interrupts and your eyebrows shoot up as your mouth shuts. 

“Uh it was okay,” you say. You're not used to so many people knowing about your dating life. “I don't see a wedding anytime soon but it was good. We'll probably try to go out again when I don't have Rachel.” 

Wanda nods, “That’s fun, that's fun. How um, how long have you been seeing her?” 

“Yesterday was our first date, actually you met her. She was the waitress at the, ehem, the bar we met up at,” you say awkwardly. It feels like the two of you are trying to be friends. This conversation doesn't feel as natural as any other conversation. 

“I remember her,” she is a little disappointed that you chose someone younger but it's not her life. She might only be feeling this way because her ex-husband cheated on her with a college student. 

“Yeah, um,” you start to explain yourself once again but Rachel runs to your side and grabs your hand asking if you're ready to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Wanda who stands from her desk and walks over to you and Rachel to give proper goodbyes. She hugs both of you separately and thanks you for all of your help. You finally make your way downstairs and decide to leave the tools since Pietro already put away the dangerous ones. 

You leave the home conflicted by the conversation with Wanda but by the time you get home, you decide to not read into it too much. The two of you are friends and that's all you will ever be. 

On Wednesday, the representative from the homeowners association arrives in the early afternoon to inspect the house. On Sunday you and Pietro were so close to finishing the wall but it was going to take another day or two. Wanda was fine with explaining to whoever she had to that it was going to be fine. 

She was starting to get fired up again about it being her house so she should be allowed to do as she pleased. Especially when she received an email explaining that the appointment was rescheduled due to them wanting the entire house inspected. Which meant that she had to make sure the house was spotless. Especially the former man cave which she hasn't seen since Pietro destroyed everything. She hadn't known that you and him already cleaned up the mess until she made her way down there. 

The space needed some dusting and vacuuming but beyond that, it was clean. Luckily Pietro only trashed the stuff in the boxes that didn't include the furniture or the television. So the room still looked pretty decent, better even without all of the junk on the walls. 

As Wanda guided the woman around the house after she assessed the wall, she noticed that the woman was being a little bit flirty towards her. She wasn't sure if she was making it up or if she was misreading some of the woman's remarks. But Wanda was kind of into it. She hadn't been with a woman since her sophomore year of college. Raven Darkholme lived a couple doors down from hers and the two found themselves being left in the common area and locked out of their rooms often. One thing led to another and they dated for a solid six months before Wanda met Vision while taking his class. 

“I don't see any issues here, Mrs. St-” 

“Actually it's Ms. Maximoff,” Wanda corrects. “I’m not married anymore,” she adds although she wasn't sure if that was necessary information. 

“My apologies, Ms. Maximoff,” the woman smiles and looks her up and down before continuing. “As I was saying, other than the obvious incident with the wall which you said you're having repaired, I don't see why my visit was necessary. But I can't deny that I'm not happy to be here.” 

Wanda is starting to realize that it isn't in her head at all. “I must admit, I wasn't too thrilled about today, Ms. Romanoff. But it's been a relief knowing that my house is up to the HOA’s standards.”  

“Look, I know that this is totally inappropriate and unprofessional but um…” the inspector grabs one of her business cards and scribbles down her personal phone number. “Call me, if you're interested in letting me inspect you.” She says flirtatiously as she hands Wanda the card. The brunette blushes as she tries to hide her grin. That was quite a line. 

“I will keep that in mind, but you should know. I'm a mo-” 

“Mother of two boys? Yeah, we covered that when we walked around upstairs,” she finishes Wanda’s sentence. 

Wanda laughs as she is flustered, “Right, sorry, I'm just. Sorry, this hasn't happened to me in um years.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Natasha says. The two stand in the living room space staring at each other until the blonde's watch goes off, reminding her of her next appointment. “I better get going. I have another inspection in fifteen minutes. I'll let the board know that you're clear and that they don't need to send anything else. Call the business number on there when you have the wall finished and I'll send the paperwork to the board so that they'll leave you alone.” 

“Thank you, I really appreciate that,” Wanda says carefully. 

“It's my pleasure,” Natasha says as they walk to the front door together. “I hope to hear from you soon.” The woman walks away and this is one time that Wanda is relieved that her boys aren't here with her to witness that interaction. She shuts her front door and bites her bottom lip as she looks at the phone number on the card. Natasha even drew a little heart above the number. Maybe she is ready to start putting herself out there. This just wasn't what she ever imagined.

Chapter 8

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @thatshyboy1998 @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiwritesfanfics @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer @scarlettwidow34 @chasethemoon @raven-ss @canyonyodeler @sokovianbaby @alexawynters

#fanfiction #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff au #wanda #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wonderstruck series #messedupfan

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part six)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 6.2k summary: moving on is not as easy as it may seem. unless, of course, revenge is in the mix.

a/n: this chapter also features steve harrington x popstar!fem!reader

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, post-breakup emotional hurt / very little comfort, minor use of pet names, mentions of recreational alcohol & drug consumption — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

Falling in love was not nearly as magical as you grew up to believe. 

Turns out, not everyone is as lucky as your parents. Not everyone gets to find the person they want to be with and just live out the rest of their time together, just like that. No muss, no fuss… no pain.

And recently, all you’ve felt was pain. 

Heartbreak caused by the man that’s done it before. You should’ve been smarter than to let him do it a second time, but lost in the chocolate of his eyes and the softness of his skin, you believed in the love you so desperately craved since you were a kid. You believed in his love. Believed he wouldn’t hurt you again, simply because he promised he wouldn’t. Hushed mantras in between the kisses he trailed along your jawline. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever been,” he’d repeat like a prayer. In reality, a fool is what he made you.

For the whole world to see at that.

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST

EVEN HONESTY COULDN’T KEEP THEM TOGETHER

WHY HEAVEN AND HELL DON’T MIX

The list of borderline patronising, and also rather sexist, articles on the downfall of your short-lived relationship with the Corroded Coffin frontman haunted you for months. It didn’t help that they were all lies. Figments of journalistic imagination that only had one thing in common: you were nothing but a lovesick girl, and Eddie ever the conqueror of Hollywood’s elite. Gone was the title of America’s favourite popstar. Replaced instead by “Oh, you’re Eddie Munsons ex, right?”.

Your management team was scrambling to get out of this PR nightmare as quickly and effortlessly as humanly possible, because they didn’t grow your career to the superstardom level it was at, only for you to be regarded as an ex-girlfriend of someone far less popular than you. The team did everything, from pushing brand advertising campaigns forward, releasing a previously stashed single with no promotion, and even faking sightings of you with New York’s most eligible bachelors — (it was actually Val in disguise, more than willing to help). 

While all of this was going on, you resigned to rotting away in bed.

The New York apartment you called home yet again, was cold in comparison to Eddie’s mansion. Every item of furniture, every decorative piece, all carefully picked out by you back when you first bought the place, seemed out of place. No longer bringing you the intended joy. You missed the blank walls of Eddie’s living room, the feel of the hardwood floors underneath your bare feet, the once unused kitchen, his display of vintage guitars. You missed his California King. Missed the way it would form perfectly around your frame every time your head hit the pillows. Most of all, despite desperately trying not to, you fucking missed him.

Eddie Munson was your downfall, yet every fibre of your being ached to be close to him once more.

Memories of your time with the metalhead flashed before your eyes every minute of every day that’s passed since he stomped all over your heart, making it bleed. What made matters worse, you were convinced Eddie didn’t miss you, didn’t think about you nearly as much as you thought about him, if even at all.

The reality couldn’t have been more different, but you didn’t know that because the morning Eddie broke you for a second time, his actions were accompanied by a conscious decision to stay out of your life for good. It wasn’t what he wanted. He just didn’t see an alternative, your grandmother’s threat ringing in his ears as the look on your face visibly changed in front of his very eyes from awe to despair.

In the months that followed the split, Eddie also thought about you all the damn time. 

Everywhere he went, there you were. Or rather the ghost of you. A memory so vivid, he instantly felt nauseous. He screwed everything up for a second time and even if he wanted to somehow fix it, he knew the only way to do that would be by telling the truth, but even Eddie Munson wasn't an asshole enough to come between a girl and her Nana — no matter how evil the old hag was.

Instead, Eddie focused on his music. 

The resounding success that was Honesty, a song about you, performed with you, made the pretext of spending day and night at the studio a little more realistic ‘cause “the band needs a few more songs to complete the album”, he’d say to Marianne. She knew the real reason behind the hours Eddie spent locked inside the recording booth was the sudden, and by all accounts, unexplained breakdown of his relationship with you. She also knew not to say anything.

By all accounts, things were going quite smoothly for Eddie. Sure he felt like a fucking prick for hurting you the way he did — yet again — and on most days, the guilt was eating Eddie alive, but his actions, and their unfortunate consequences, fueled an endless supply of songs he couldn’t deny were about you. Songs that would undoubtedly make the album the best thing Corroded Coffin have ever released. Shit. Did that also make him selfish? He wondered if it was fair that his creativity blossomed while you were hurting. He wondered if profiting off this heartache was the right thing to do. Would it make you more mad? Would it break you even more?

Then he saw it.

MISS AMERICANA MOVES ON 

What the fuck.

-

“Did you forget that you promised to come help me shop for dresses?”

You groan at Val’s question, pulling the blankets over your head until your face is entirely hidden and a faint darkness envelops around you. This is your safe space now. This is where you wish you could stay for all eternity, but alas, the universe always seems to have other plans.

“Val,” you mumble under your breath, “I say this with all sincerity, please fuck off. I’m clearly in no shape to hold up to my promise, so just take my credit card and ask a friend to go with you instead. Please.”

She huffs, and even though you can’t see her, you know she’s rolling her eyes. Then, without skipping a beat, she does the exact opposite to what you asked her to do, opting to yank the covers off you entirely with a wicked grin. 

“I am done letting you wither away, okay?” She states, “It’s been months of self-pity and I’m fucking sick of it. Everyone is sick of it. Jesus, he broke your heart, big deal. People get their heart broken all the damn time and you don’t see them wasting away in bed.”

“Because they don’t have the privilege to.” 

It was the wrong thing to say.

“Nana calls you an ungrateful brat all the time, behind your back of course. I think you just proved her point.”

The sting of Val’s words causes you to visibly grimace, but you can’t say you didn’t deserve her hostile push back. You were acting like a brat. Saying the wrong things in the heat of the moment, you knew better than that. You were taught better than that. Just like you were also taught to uphold your promises, keep your word and do the things you said you would do. 

With an exaggerated sigh, you stand, and for the first time in months, you go get dressed in something that’s not an overpriced pyjama set. Val cheers you on, proud of  herself for being the person that could convince you to leave the confines of your apartment, even if it was only for one afternoon.

Fifth Avenue is a Manhattan staple. Stretching from Greenwich Village, where you grew up, all the way to Harlem, a secret favourite, if anyone ever asked. Personally, you opted to steer clear of Fifth Avenue as much as you could, though, being one of the most expensive shopping streets in the world, it made sense this is where Val asked Hank to escort you two. Especially, since after hours of browsing stores your little sister normally couldn’t afford on her own, your journey’s end is Saks.

“Tell me again why we’re dress shopping? You hate dresses.”

“Because, since you’ve pretty much turned yourself into a recluse, Nana asked me to join her at the upcoming charity function she’s throwing. Her one demand was that I need a dress.” Val explains, browsing through a carefully crafted selection of garments. “Preferably expensive.”

“She didn’t say anything to me,” you say, furrowing your brows.

“Like I said, recluse.”

You sigh. Nails, overdue a manicure, now at the brim of your lips, threatening to push through at any given moment. It was a bad habit. Something you’ve recently done a lot because speaking your mind clearly wasn’t good enough and only led to misfortune. This was the only way you could ease the anxiety surrounding the mess you’ve made of your life, as gross as it was.

“Well, I didn’t want Nana, or anyone else for that matter, saying I told you so, or thinking I had it coming since apparently I was the only person that had blinders on when it came to…”

His name got stuck in your throat like a bad apple. A choking hazard that brought tears to your eyes and caused your chest to heave suddenly with bated breaths. Clearly, you hadn’t gotten over him, otherwise you wouldn’t spend your days locked up in your apartment. What you didn’t realise though, was that you hadn’t said his name out loud since that fateful morning in his kitchen.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

The vile tone behind those three words rings in your ears. Of course he deserved it then, there’s no denying that. He still deserves it today. If you were ever to see him at any Hollywood function, you’d either ignore his presence entirely or greet him the same exact way you said your goodbye: “Fuck you, Eddie.”. But for a split second, you feel sad that this is the way you remember his name on your tongue.

“We wouldn’t have made you feel worse, sis.” Val says, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “What do you think of this one?” She proceeds to steer you further away from your deprecating thoughts by holding up a simple red dress. Single strap, maxi length. Exactly the opposite of her usual style, primarily because it was a dress and Val always said she’d rather be caught dead than wearing something designed to limit her movements.

“It’s gorgeous,” you compliment, “Exactly your style.”

If she detected your tiny, white lie, she didn’t say anything. Although, judging by the elated look on her face, no one's opinion really mattered anyway. Not even the one she asked for. The one from her famous older sister.

“It really is, isn’t it? I’m gonna try it on.”

Wanting to see your genuine reaction to her wearing the garment, Val asks you to momentarily join Hank, and wait outside the private dressing suite. You giggle at her, missing the fact that this was the first genuine laugh you let out since Los Angeles, and step outside the heavy door without protest.

Hank greets you with a tight lipped smile, but doesn’t say anything. He never does. You liked that about him, especially considering everyone else in your life always had too much to say. Hank’s silence was like a breath of fresh air. However, unknown to you yet, this time, Hank should have been talking, saying literally anything, repeating any old story, ‘cause then, his deep voice would mask what unfortunately catches your attention next.

It’s not really a squeal, not really a groan either. It’s honestly not really any distinct sound, just something that echoes down the hall, reaching your ears and causing Hank to stop the tune he was quietly humming. Both your heads snap in the direction of the noise, just in case it is something you should worry about, like a paparazzo that somehow snuck in, despite the heavy Saks security. Unfortunately for you, the person that comes rushing around the corner is a lot worse than any ol’ shutterbug.

Suddenly, at the end of the hallway, in all her redheaded glory, appears Max Mayfield.

Recognition feigns across her features as her movements come to a halt the second she sees you perched up against the corridor wall. Her mouth parts in shock, proving that she’s clearly just as surprised to see you here. 

Having never officially met, Max still knew exactly who you were. And not because of your fame, the articles about you and her brother. No. Judging by the look in her piercing eyes, Max knew you more intimately. She knew you from the stories that fell directly from Eddie’s lips. She knew details of your relationship that were kept secret from the public. Hell, she might’ve even known more than you.

You don’t get to ask her though. You don’t even get to say ‘hello’ because she glances behind her shoulder, your gaze following just as quickly. Holy shit, you think, knees now wobbling underneath you. If Eddie walks around that corner you might… Well, frankly, you don’t know how you’d react. You also didn’t really want to find out. Not now. Not here. Not like this.

So your fingers reach for the door handle and you’re just about to push it open, retreat back inside, when the person that’s with Max comes into view.

The disappointment that briefly rushes through you is unmatched. Even if you didn’t really want to see the rockstar, you still wished he was actually here. Instead, you’re now face to face with another brunette with hair just as wild as Eddie’s. Only his attire is different. The suit that’s perfectly tailored to his slender frame is also undoubtedly expensive. Armani, you notice.

“Jesus, when will you learn not to—”

He sees you then. The same exact look that Max is currently sporting spreads across his sharp features, so he must know you too. Difference being, you don’t know him.

“Oh shit. Sorry. We, eh, we were told no one was here.” He apologises, glancing between you and Hank, who’s posture is proper. Intimidating.

You step out in front of your bodyguard. An unspoken signal that says he doesn’t need to tell these people to get lost just yet. 

“That’s okay,” you reply to the stranger, quickly weighing your options in terms of what the next words to spill from your lips should be. One more glance in Max’s direction solidifies your decision. If her brother is going to repeatedly break your heart and get away with it, you’re going to play dumb and pretend he didn’t really matter to you.

With a polite smile and a swift extension of your hand, you introduce yourself. First to the mystery man, then to Max. The redhead is slightly more apprehensive about the hand shake, but she takes your extended fingers in hers regardless before saying her own name, as if you didn’t already know it.

The guy you now know as Steve clears his throat. 

“We’ll come back.” It’s simple. Meant to ease the awkwardness since the three of you clearly knew what — or rather, who — you had in common, but none of you seems willing to say the name aloud first.

“That’s okay,” you repeat, “Stay. We’re nearly finished anyway.”

And right on queue, Val calls your name from inside the private dressing room. You excuse yourself, leaving the two to exchange a knowing glance, and a whisper, undoubtedly about what they should do next.

Val, of course, looks breathtaking in the dress she picked out. Hand on your heart, you stare at your little sister in awe, wondering, probably for the first time ever, when the hell did she grow up so fast. And it’s an odd feeling that spreads through you. Pushing down the heartbreak momentarily, is melancholy for all the time you lost with your siblings because you were too busy being a star. It brings tears to your eyes, but you push them down quickly since you’ve been called dramatic enough for one day, and right now, it was all about Valentine.

“I think I understand why you’re always wearing skirts and dresses,” she says, spinning in front of the large mirror with the biggest smile on her face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I feel like a fucking princess.”

A soft giggle escapes your lips. You agree with her sentiment, then add, “You look like mom.” Meaning it as the highest of compliments and her eyes twinkle at your words. 

“She’s going to love this dress.”

You nod. “She’s going to love you in this dress.”

It’s decided, just like that. The dress is being bought and Val thanks you ten times over for offering to pay for it, along with a pair of Louboutins to compliment it. You tell her it’s the least you can do for finally getting you out of bed, then you tell her that you’re glad you did this together — biting your tongue when it came to the apology for missing so many key moments in her life, because again, this moment was about her, not about the guilt you suddenly felt for focusing too much on your career and too little on your family.

Using the phone inside the private dressing room, Val calls for one of the Sales Assistants to come up, and while you two wait, you leave her again to get redressed in her normal clothes. 

Max and Steve are gone. 

That’s the first thing you notice when stepping back into the corridor. Hank doesn’t say anything as to their departure, unsurprisingly. He does, however, hand you a receipt from a nearby coffee shop. There’s scribbles on the back of it: ‘MEET ME’, along with an address in Brooklyn.

“From the redheaded girl,” Hank admits.

-

Max Mayfield has tolerated a lot of shitty behaviour in her lifetime.

The list of people that hurt her, and the people closest to her, was quite long, especially for a twenty-something year old. But her upbringing had a lot more downs than ups, and because of that, for the longest time, Max considered herself to be the most unlucky person on the planet. So she blamed the people around her for it, because how else is a kid supposed to judge universal injustice?

To this day, she remembers every single individual that has wronged her in any way, along with the associated place, and most importantly, the how. Max was never entirely sure what she’d do with that information, but she stored it at the back of her mind regardless — hence her thick skin and inability to tolerate any sort of bullshit. 

Which is why it sucks ten times more when it is the people close to her doing the hurting, with no rhyme nor reason.

If Eddie asked, that’s why she left you her address. If Eddie asked, that’s why she wanted to talk to you. He did the hurting. Then he spewed bullshit as to why he ended things with you. Max didn’t believe any of it. Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t believe it.

“I think she’s the love of my life,” Eddie announced one day, out of the blue. 

He called Max every Tuesday, when it hit four in the afternoon for him. Usually, the two of them talked about Max’s adventures in New York. How she’s doing with her studies, what she’s been up to with her friends (old and new), and if Sinclair has been driving her crazy, which he usually is. The odd time, Eddie would drop in some details about his whirlwind of a life, though he never talked about dating.

That is, until her older brother met you.

Then he wouldn’t fucking shut up.

Max liked this side of Eddie. A truly happy Eddie. And the redhead knows, better than anyone, the rockstar hasn’t been truly happy in all the years he’s been in a set presence in her life.

So to say she was surprised when the news broke, NO MORE SWEETHEART FOR EDDIE MUNSON, would be a vast understatement.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Max questioned her brother.

“Nothing,” Eddie answered plainly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, “turns out she wasn’t anything special.”

“Eddie,” Max breathed, “you’re acting like a prick.”

She heard a sigh on the other line. Defeated. A little annoyed. Maybe even… sad?

“Whatever,” he brushed the comment off. “Listen, Red, I really don’t wanna talk about this, ‘cause if I did, I would’ve told you it ended myself.”

“That’s another problem I have—”

“Let’s not, okay?” Eddie snapped. “I really don’t wanna deal with shit from you, on top of everyone else, okay? We were never a real item, so it’s not a big deal.”

Max dropped it then and she swore she’d never bring it up again, but then, she bumped into you. She imagined meeting you many times over. The girl that made her brother happy. She wanted to know that girl. She wanted to thank her.

When it all went to hell, Max thought she’d never get the chance. Especially since, seemingly, you seemed okay with the downfall of your relationship with Eddie, spotted out on dates all over New York City. For a brief moment, Max let herself hate you. Clearly, you weren’t upset, which means, clearly, you didn’t care about Eddie nearly as much as he would have believed.

But then she saw you.

Max noticed how your face twitched with recognition the second your eyes locked together, how your hands shook slightly when Max looked behind her shoulder, the brief disappointment when it wasn’t Eddie who came around the corner, and how you tried to plaster on a pristine smile when you introduced yourself.

And now that she saw you, one thing was clear. Eddie hurt your feelings. He may have even broken your heart. That sort of behaviour, Max couldn’t stand for.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” you say with a delicate smile.

Your moves are apprehensive when Max further pushes her apartment door open, allowing you into her home. She leads you down the long hallway and offers up the couch for you to sit, while she steps towards the kitchen cabinets to grab a couple of wine glasses. 

In the time that Max opens up a bottle of Cabernet, you allow yourself to glance around the space. The furniture is all mismatched, definitely vintage, probably thrifted. There’s a fireplace, but you think it must be disconnected since instead it houses cream-coloured candles, all of different burn degrees. Otherwise, the decor is minimal, and it makes you think of Eddie and the empty walls of his Los Angeles mansion.

Though there is one prime feature. A framed Corroded Coffin poster, signed by all the members.

A faint smile circles your lips as you trail the details of the image. Though you haven’t been a fan before, having dated Eddie for a couple of months, you now knew the poster was from their first headline tour. The poor scribbles on an old photo, something that could one day be worth thousands. You’re sure though, that to Max, the value of this is priceless.

So your nerves bubble to the surface. Your leg starts to bounce, thumb back at your lips as you stare at the poster in front of you. The question of why exactly Max asked you to meet has been circling your mind ever since Hank handed you the address. It’s only intensified now that you are here. Now that you are looking at an A3 print of the brunette rockstar in his sister’s apartment. The guy that, despite your best efforts, you still cared for quite deeply.

“Here you go,” Max hails you back to reality by handing you a glass of wine. “It’s nothing fancy though, I eh, don’t usually host celebrities,” she tries to joke.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say and take the drink out of her grasp. “I-I actually prefer the cheaper stuff. Keeps me rich,” you try to joke.

Max seems to like your efforts ‘cause she huffs out a laugh while making herself comfortable on the armchair to your right.

“If only my idiotic brother carried the same principles as you,” she says. And just like that, the air is tense again. Your attempt at a joke is turned into an uncomfortable reminder of what the two of you have in common, and the reason for why you’re here tonight.

There’s a brief moment of slightly awkward silence. Then Max sighs softly.

“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to come.”

“The thought did cross my mind, yes.”

Max smiles, it’s small, yet genuine. 

“Look, Eddie has never been one for chatting about feelings. That’s one of the things we actually have in common, which is probably why we’ve always gotten along so well.” She pauses.

“Full transparency, I don’t know what went down between the two of you. All I know is one day, he’s telling me how he’s crazy about you, and the next, I’m reading in the tabloids how it’s over and Eddie’s not willing to give up any reasons why.”

Your face falls momentarily. Something Max picks up on instantly.

“You thought I knew more.”

“That obvious, huh?” You smirk.

“Just a little.”

There’s another moment of silence.

“I’ll be the first to say that Eddie can be a bit of a dickhead sometimes. Especially recently, when the money started rolling in and apparently no one in Hollywood understands setting boundaries, his ego has grown for sure. But I also know what he’s been through. Hawkins wasn’t the kindest to him.”

“Why are you telling me this?” It comes out as a whisper.

“He hurt you,” she’s blunt.

You don’t mean to, but you scoff. “No offence to you, or your brother, but I’m sure I wasn’t the first person he’s hurt, and I certainly won’t be the last, so do you sit down with all his ex-flings?”

Max sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing down momentarily, as she drops her gaze to the wine glass in her grasp. For a moment, you think you came off too bitchy and a little dismissive, after all, she hasn’t made her intentions known yet. Your instinct is to apologise, but then she clears her throat and looks back up at you.

“You’re the only one he’s ever talked about.”

-

“Do you wanna hurt him back?” — Max's question dings in your ears like the alarm bells you should have heard when she first asked it. 

Not now. Not the next night, after you had already agreed to her plan. After the plan was already in motion, you were simply just waiting for the other person to arrive.

Waiting for Steve Harrington.

This was all honestly a little too crazy, but again, you thought so a little too late. You should have been second guessing the idea the second Max presented it to you, like a pretty little gift, wrapped in a big bow known to most as ‘revenge’. Though last night, two bottles of wine in, you would have agreed to anything the redhead said. You did agree to everything ‘cause you realised that she just needed someone to vent her own feelings to, same as you.

She said Eddie didn’t want to talk about it, and she wanted to be sympathetic towards his feelings, but seeing you reminded her, he wasn’t the only person involved in this situation. She needed to talk to you. And honestly, you were glad for the opportunity, hence why you showed up at the scribbled address. Since all you got from your close circle was judgement, it couldn’t hurt to spend time with someone who’d refrain from commenting on how foolish you were.

As the night progressed, so did the topic of conversation.

The two of you had moved on from small talk relating to the person you both knew, and to the real reason Max asked you to come over: “Do you wanna hurt him back?”.

“I-I…” Clearly, the redhead caught you off guard, “Well, I-I haven’t really—”

“If you tell me you haven’t thought about it over the last few months, then I will say you’re full of shit, because no girl of your status gets her heartbroken so publicly, only to let the other person scot free.”

She moved from the armchair and sat back down next to you, then continued, “And I’m not saying this is about your career. It’s about principle. Taking away the fact that Eddie’s my brother, he’s an entitled rockstar who thinks other people’s feelings aren’t as important! Which personally, is just so baffling considering what he went through with Chrissy—”

“Who’s Chrissy?”

Max didn’t really answer your question, though the look in her eyes gave some of it away. Chrissy was, at one point in time, someone very important to Eddie. The name slipped out, you weren’t supposed to know it, that much was definitely clear. And you were smart enough to deduct that Max wasn’t going to tell you much else about this mystery girl, but maybe, whatever she had planned, would allow you to learn it from someone else. Maybe even Eddie himself.

“Okay,” you agreed, “What do you have in mind?”

That’s how you found yourself at Minetta Tavern, fifteen minutes early than agreed with Max ‘cause you knew you’d need a glass of wine before Steve arrived. There was a pit in your stomach. This whole situation was honestly so twisted, even for your standards. But you kept repeating to yourself how it was too late to back out now. Too late to call off this whole thing since the paparazzi you asked  Holly to arrange were already lurking outside.

Steve shows up about ten minutes before the agreed time.

The hostess walks him over to your table and you immediately notice how nervous he seems. He still offers you a charming smile and bends slightly to your level, greeting you with a half-hug. When he sits across from you, he’s quick to order a Jameson on ice, and only when the waiter is out of sight, Steve looks at you.

“Even if this is a fake date, I do have to say, you look really beautiful tonight.”

A timid smile circles your lips at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you, Steve. You look rather handsome too.”

“Nah,” he brushes you off with a smirk, “Not to be overly forward, but I’m all sweaty after a whole day’s work. Wanted to change shirts. Ended up running late this morning, so I didn’t take a second one with me. Then I tried to bribe one of my colleagues to give me his spare shirt, so he told me he’d bet me for it with a game of pool, which I clearly lost. It was a whole thing.” Steve dramatises, the smirk ever present. 

“Bet you’re regretting calling me handsome now, huh?”

“Not at all,” you reply honestly, “Actually, surprisingly, quite the opposite.”

He raises a brow. “Oh yeah?”

And you nod. “Not to be overly forward,” you repeat his earlier sentiment, “But I’ve never been on a date with someone that had a real job.”

Steve laughs. “I just told you I played a game of pool at work to win a clean shirt. That’s a real job to you?”

It’s rather effortless how he makes you laugh too.

“Well, I’m assuming that didn’t take the whole day, so for at least six hours today, you worked, no?”

Still smiling, he bops his head in agreement. “You got me there.”

Celebrating your mini victory, you take a sip of your wine. 

“So, what do you do, Steve?” You ask after the waiter brings over his drink and takes your food orders.

“Wall Street,” he answers plainly.

“Shit,” you reply with a grin, “You’re so right. That’s not a real job.”

When Steve laughs again, you forget why you’re both really here. When he laughs again, the slight shake of his head causing his hair to bounce in compliment, you forget the circumstances surrounding your date. As the night continued, with every spoken word, every little joke and giggle, you end up forgetting a lot of things actually.

You forget to ask Steve why he agreed to do this with you. Forget to ask about Eddie and what their friendship meant to him, since he’s here, acting out a revenge plot. Most importantly, you forget to ask about Chrissy, who she was, and what she really meant to the rockstar.

This fake date with Steve turned into one of the best dates of your young-adult life.

Apparently, you two had a lot in common, more than you could have ever imagined. You both came from families that always lived above the norm, which in itself was a challenge only people from similar backgrounds could understand. Steve had said how the weight of the world was always on his shoulders whenever he was around his parents, and that’s how you felt with your Nana. Nothing was ever good enough, yet you kept trying to impress them regardless. He shared the privilege you’ve always felt, so you bonded. Without ever meaning to.

It wasn’t until after dinner, which Steve paid for, by the way, you remembered the circumstances that brought you here together. He seemed to understand the apprehensive look in your eyes ‘cause he was quick to offer to leave first, before you, and not with you — just in case you had second thoughts — but you just shook your head, Max’s question humming in your ears once again: “Do you wanna hurt him back?”.

“He really hurt me, Steve.”

The brunette nods. “Let’s go then.”

The next morning, Page Six features a spread about you on a date with “a mystery brunette”. In the picture, Steve’s got his arm around you, hugging you close, as the two of you push through the paparazzi to get into his vintage car.

When Steve calls your apartment a few days later, you ask him if he regrets being put on blast like that.

“No,” he answers quickly, “Real or not, I had a really good night with you. Which honestly made me think about all the possible reasons Munson might’ve had to do what he did.”

“What did you come up with?”

“That he’s a fucking idiot. You’re incredible.”

You damn well know he can picture the smile you’re sporting right now as you wrap the cord around your wrist, like a little school girl talking to her crush. If your Nana saw, she’d tell you to snap out of it. Although, unlike Eddie, Steve was exactly the type of guy she’d want you to end up with.

Intelligent, charming, kind — and those were just the qualities you learned in a single night. The more you thought about your not-so-fake date, the more you found yourself wanting to learn even more about the handsome brunette.

There were just a couple of other questions you needed to get out of the way before you asked Steve out on a real date. Things you should’ve asked the first time around, instead of getting caught up in the moment.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“If Eddie’s your friend, why did you agree to Max’s plan?”

There’s a brief moment of silence. Albeit, very  brief.

“I guess the same reason Red even put this in motion in the first place.”

“Chrissy?”

You can hear him sigh into the receiver, but you don’t get to actually hear him confirm it, or ask any of the follow ups you should have actually asked him during your date, because there’s a knock on your door. Then again, only louder, more intense.

“Steve, I gotta call you back,” you say, attention now focused on whoever it was that’s on the other side of your front door and the eagerness behind their knocks.

“Sure thing, darling. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, someone’s just at my door. I’ll call you in a couple minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve agrees, “Speak in a few.” 

The next thing you hear are three beeps, so you hurry to put the phone back before approaching your front door. You don’t really think to check who it might be through the peephole, since there’s only a limited number of people that would get past your doorman with no prior notice. That was a mistake.

On the other side of your apartment door, drenched from the September rain, stood none other than Corroded Coffin frontman himself, Mr Eddie Munson.

Your mouth parts slightly in shock as Eddie slides his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, meeting your wide gaze. He tries to smile, though the corners of his lips don’t really move that far upward.

And you’re not sure how long the two of you stand there, just looking at one another. It’s only when one of your neighbours comes out of their apartment, into the shared corridor, that you snap out of whatever spell you had found yourself under.

The panic sets in. 

He’s actually here. Eddie is standing in front of you. Now, Mrs McAllister has seen him, and she’s got a big mouth, yapping to the ladies at bingo about all your activities, gossip that somehow always travels back to your Nana — the last person you needed on your case, again.

So without really thinking, you slam the door shut.

Right in Eddie’s face.

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson story #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #celebrity skin.

[multifandombitxh]

Bed Time Stories

Pairing: Ghost x Fem!Reader (Ghost's POV, no use of y/n)

Genre: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers kinda

Warnings: Adult language, a really bad romance novel excerpt that I made up on the spot

A/N: I'm back for like five minutes don't get used to it 🤙 PS would love to write something for a male reader if that's something anyone wants, just sayin'

Ghost had no idea how long this had been going on without his knowledge. In a way, he was a little upset that no one told him about this, especially when Soap knows how he feels about the new recruit. He was completely drawn to her from day one, the moment she stepped foot on base looking like pure sunshine in dirty combat boots. He didn't even know her name before he knew he wanted her- her mind, her heart, her soul... Her body as well, but that was a different issue.

Ghost kept his sweet distance. He knew that the moment he let himself revel in her kindness, it would only make things worse. It was beyond frustrating; he hadn't felt like this toward anyone in- well, ever. He was used to finding people attractive every now and then, sure, but this? This was a whole new ball game for him- and he doesn't even know how to play the game.

He wanted to bring her flowers, watch sunsets with her, ask for her favorite color, her favorite food, favorite movies and books, to know everything she found beautiful or worthwhile in this world. His thoughts were worse at night when he was trying to sleep. What did she look like in the mornings? Does she drink coffee, or tea? How lovely would it be to wake every day with her head on his chest?

He wanted to hold her god damn hand for Christ's sake. What was she turning him into?

Regardless of his softness toward her, Ghost did everything in his power to stay the fuck away. He was mean to her. He was snippy when he didn't have to be, putting her in her place when he felt it necessary. The others would hound him about it; "Go easy on her, Lieutenant." "Why would you say that?" "Maybe you should ease up a bit." But no. Not a snowball's chance in hell would he "ease up" or "lay off".

If he did, he'd melt just at the sight of her smile.

As if he wasn't already doing just that.

Soap noticed it first, the way his Lieutenant's gaze softened as soon as it fell on her, how his shoulders relaxed and his fists unclenched. She was walking stress relief, her smile so perfect and crooked and full. Her warm, inviting eyes shimmered and lit up any time she looked Ghost's way. God forbid he make eye contact with her, it made him weak in the knees. As soon as Soap caught onto this, he tortured Ghost with it day in and day out.

Now, as he stands in the hallway outside of the barracks, his arms crossed and his jaw tight, he listens as she speaks in soft, pronounced sentences, reading from a sappy, cheesy romance novel. Soap was the first to ask her about it- of course he was, he's always looking for ammo to tease the rest of the team with- but she wasn't even slightly embarrassed to tell him she loved romantic literature. Soap asked her to read a few pages to him, thinking it would be hilarious, and so she obliged. Now, a week and some change later, Soap and Gaz sat around with her late into the evening, listening to her read the latest chapter in her silly little book to pass the time.

Ghost's heart ached in his chest as he listened to her, smiling as she occasionally stumbled over her words, lost her place, or changed her tone of voice when speaking for different characters. The sound of her soft laughter nearly brought him to tears when she got to the juicer parts of the story, describing the intimate lives of these fictional people in great detail. Soap and Gaz would laugh along with her, but never once teased her or made fun of her for enjoying herself. It made Ghost feel warm. It made him feel full in his chest.

Soon, he began to focus a little more on the actual story rather than how beautiful the words sounded coming from her lips.

"Meredith watched as the love of her life crossed the small yard, plucking dandelions from the tall grasses and placing them in his woven wicker basket. Her heart was about to burst straight out of her chest and onto the cold, wooden floor, watching him so delicately picking the flowers and setting them aside. His amber hair almost glowed under the golden afternoon sun- he looked angelic in this light. She sighed through her freckled nose, knowing she had found the truest, purest form of love, and never wanted to let it slip from her grasp."

Ghost listened intently as you read that paragraph, snorting to himself. Looks like he and Meredith had something in common.

"How many chapters was that?" Soap asks as she closes the book, placing a bookmark between the pages.

"Only four left," She says with a smile, "Almost to the end."

Ghost feels rotten on the inside as she says that, knowing he'd missed so much of this special little gathering made him feel deep regret for pushing her away. As if driven by this deep sense of remorse, he steps out from the hall, moving into the open doorway and leaning against the frame, his arms remaining crossed. He tries to look angry, intimidating- his usual. Soap and Gaz look up at him, a bit surprised to see him.

"Lt, how long you been there?" Soap asks, standing from his seat and dusting himself off.

"Not long," Ghost lies, shrugging slightly. He looks between Soap and Gaz, not daring to look her way just yet. "You two mind giving us a moment?"

Soap smirks and nods, exchanging knowing looks with Gaz. The two of them thank her for another evening of book club, their soft and sweet voices making Ghost roll his eyes and nearly gag. He watches as they leave, taking their sweet time and discussing the latest chapters. Ghost finally turns to her, doing his damnedest to keep his gaze hard. She can't know, she can't.

"Did you need something, sir?" She asks, her voice much more meek than when she spoke with the others. He takes note of this, wondering to himself if he's made her uncomfortable. She stands from the bunk she was lounging on, placing the book on top of the covers as she straightens out. Ghost forces himself to keep his eyes trained on her face, lest they wander.

"I do, actually," He replies, taking a step toward her. It doesn't take much- his stride is quite large considering his size- for him to stand before her, nearly towering over her like a skyscraper. She looks up at him expectantly, her hands behind her back as she maintains a neutral expression. He misses her smile already.

"You-" He starts, shifting his weight as he tries to find his words. "I think- listen. This... You can't... Do this. Anymore. Whatever it is, it stops here."

Her face drops from neutral to hurt, her brows drawing together as her eyes fill with confusion. "What?" She asks, shaking her head. "I... Can't read? Are you serious?"

Dammit. He did it again. Without even meaning to, he put another invisible wedge between them, when all he really wanted to do was pull her closer. His chest begins to ache, anxiety setting in as he realizes what he's done. But he can't seem to stop himself.

"You can read, Sergeant, just... Not to the others. They have duties," Ghost explains, sounding unsure of himself. She seems to catch on, because soon her face changes from hurt to anger. "I can't have you distracting my men like this."

"You're joking," She scoffs, shaking her head and folding her own arms over her chest. Ghost physically fights the urge to look down. "You can't be serious, Ghost."

"That's Lieutenant to you," He all but snaps, taking another intimidating step forward. Why was he doing this? Why was he like this? His mind races as he tries to stop himself, to put an end to this charade and tell her the truth, to show her even an ounce of kindness. Why was that so hard for him? "Mind yourself if you want to keep your place on this team."

A few seconds pass as there's a pause in the discussion, and she lowers her gaze, nodding a few times. "It won't happen again, Lieutenant," She manages, keeping her eyes to the floor. The tone of her voice sounds like she was just slapped in the face.

Fuck. He's really done it now.

How can he fix this?

"Good," Ghost says quickly, giving her a single nod before he turns his back to her and begins walking away. Every fiber of his being is fighting himself, his heart begging him to turn around and apologize, take her in his arms and make her feel the love he feels for her. Before he reaches the threshold of the doorway, he hears her small voice again, her words striking his heart like a frozen spear.

"What did I do to make you hate me so much..?"

He can't do this. Not anymore.

Not to her.

"Dammit..." Ghost whispers, closing his eyes as he stops in his tracks. He turns on his heel, his heart hammering in his chest so hard it hurts. "I don't... Hate you, Sergeant."

He watches her for a moment, noticing her defeated stance and the way she refuses to look his way, not that he blames her. It kills him inside to know that he caused this- that she's hurting because of his actions. All because he's afraid of letting her in. At this rate, he'll have to physically build a brick wall to keep himself away from her. He was done for.

"I don't understand," She whispers. Her voice wavers, sounding as though she's holding back tears. That nearly rips his heart out of his chest. "I have tried so hard to do my best and do what's right for the team. Everyone seems to have faith in me, except for you. I don't understand what I did wrong, Lieutenant, I don't-"

Without a second thought, he crosses the room to her, taking swift strides as he comes to stand in front of her again. Before she can even blink he holds her face in both of his hands, his palms covering her cheeks and his fingers resting on her jaw. Her eyes go wide, and he's pretty sure he hears her breath catch in her throat.

"I... Am so stupidly in love with you," He confesses in a voice barely above a whisper, the feeling of her soft skin against his calloused hands sending a shiver up his spine. He locks eyes with her, making sure to silently convey with them that he's telling the truth. "I want you... In every sense of the phrase. I want you in the worst way, and I can't... I can't have you."

As she stares up at him with a puzzled expression, his heart rate increases ten fold, the closeness of their bodies suddenly overwhelming his senses. He can smell her, her lovely scent on her clothes and skin. It's intoxicating. He wishes he could bottle it and keep it for himself on lonely nights.

"Ghost-"

"You are the embodiment of everything good in this world, and I... I- I would dirty you if I put my hands on you," He carries on, his thumb stroking her cheekbone so delicately it's almost ghosting over the flesh. His voice breaks as he speaks, as if he's about to lose his composure any moment. "I am trying to keep myself away from you, don't you understand? Everything about you is like a drug I'm hopelessly addicted to and haven't even tried. And I'll never be sorry enough for hurting you, but I'd be hurting you more if I let myself feel this way about you."

As he lays it all out for her, pouring his heart out in phrases that even he didn't think he could formulate, her eyes soften and begin to fill with tears. They glisten beautifully under the dim lights, glossy and lovely and inviting. His breathing becomes uneven at the sight of her, feeling himself fall harder and harder the longer he looks into them. When she leans into his touch and closes her eyes, he almost gasps, completely taken aback by the gesture.

"Maybe I'm not as clean as you think I am," She whispers, each word hitting him hard in the gut. As he tries to process what she means, her hands slip beneath the bottom of his balaclava, slowly but surely sliding it up until his mouth comes into view.

He doesn't even think about trying to stop her when she leans in and presses her perfect lips to his.

The kiss lasts for what feels like milliseconds, leaving him wanting more. So much more. As soon as her lips depart from his, he's wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and pulling her back in, his mouth crashing down on hers once again. The softest sighs escapes into the kiss, though neither of them are sure who started it. Heat builds almost immediately and suddenly Ghost has her in his arms, lifting her into the air with his hands on the backs of her thighs. He pushes her hard against the closest wall, drawing a shocked breath out of her.

Ghost's mind is gone, lost somewhere deep in the corners of his skull while his heart takes control, relishing in the soft sensation of her mouth against his. All bets are off now, and he doesn't care anymore. He wants her. He needs her. Like air, like water, like shelter. She is keeping him alive.

But she's killing him at the same time.

When they finally pull apart from one another, they breathe hard, the air between them hot and heavy. One of her hands holds up his balaclava while the other wraps around his broad shoulders, using them for some leverage as he holds her in the air against the cold wall.

"I'm sorry," She mumbles against his lips, closing her eyes. "I probably shouldn't have done that."

"Probably not," Ghost agrees with a grin, biting down on his lower lip briefly as he takes in the sight of her like this. Breathless, vulnerable. Beautiful. "But I'd expect nothing less from someone who reads those stupid novels."

#just a silly lil somethin #still not over ghost asdjfjdksoidjs #my HUSBAN #im rusty forgive me #i fricken tried #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost angst #simon riley angst #hurt/comfort #enemies to lovers #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #simon riley call of duty #heehee #mywriting

[wandabear]

WISH YOU WERE HERE - WANDA MAXIMOFF X FEMALE READER

ㅤㅤ

Summary: 17 years ago, a New Jersey high school girls’ soccer team travels to Seattle for a national tournament. While flying over Canada, their plane crashes deep in the wilderness, and the surviving team members are left stranded for nineteen months. Based on Yellowjackets

Jules is portrayed by Adelaide Kane. Here.

ㅤㅤ

THIS CHAPTER HAS SERIOUS WARNINGS: +18 Angst, death, violence, blood, mentions of abuse and allusion to anthropophagy -cannibalism- if you squint; minors dni. Please, as I said before, this is going to be harder on this chapter. And I'm responsible for letting you know that, but if you don't like it, you can choose not to read it. Or skip the 'BEFORE' and go to the 'NOW'. ㅤㅤ

Author's Notes: I must clarify again, all of them are 18 years old or more. Many characters -not the main ones- will not survive, and some will act in a way that is not okay. That doesn't mean I hate them or I don't like them. I just need the story to make sense.

ㅤㅤ

CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN FINALE

ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHAPTER SEVEN

ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤBEFORE

ㅤㅤ

That night marked the beginning of one of the worst moments of their lives. The horror got worse when they came back to the cabin, found the worst scene they could have imagined.

Many of the girls were on a completely psychedelic and dangerous trip due to the intake of alcohol and hallucinogenic mushrooms. Others didn't seem to have survived the overdose. ㅤㅤ

Natasha ran over to Yelena when she saw her throwing up in the bushes, Kate standing next to her, completely pale. The blonde didn’t stop crying and vomiting, kneeling next to the body of her girlfriend, her best friend, her soulmate. She was gone. ㅤㅤ

The night that should have been special, turned into a nightmare that many couldn't easily overcome.

ㅤㅤ

“How did you know where to find us?” Y/N asked Jules, trying to be strong when Wanda cleaned her face so she wouldn't have infections. Y/N had a severe cut over her swollen eyebrow, cheekbone, and lip. Two huge bruises in the rib area.

ㅤㅤ

Those who were feeling better were trying to get over the nasty hangover. While those who didn’t seem to be very well, were in the kitchen.

ㅤㅤ

“It was the deer woman.” Jules murmured almost imperceptibly, covering herself with a blanket. She felt awful chills, trying not to pass out from hunger and dehydration.  “She told me to.”

ㅤㅤ

They all looked at each other not knowing what to say. Half of them were high, so they weren't going to judge her, but Y/N, Wanda and Natasha seemed pretty worried.

ㅤㅤ

Yelena frowned. “The fuck are you talking about?”

ㅤㅤ

Jules kept her blank gaze. “She said that she hates mischievous evil man… and and- I did it-”

ㅤㅤ

“What does that mean?” Nat asked this time, it was strange that Jules was the only one who managed to hear that ‘voice’.

ㅤㅤ

“I DON’T KNOW, I WAS DRUGGED!” Jules finally snapped and then began to cry. It felt horrible, and they all seemed to want to know the reason for everything. Except for Wanda, who seemed grateful.

ㅤㅤ

“Guys, you're asking too many questions and some of them can't even put two words together.” Wanda tried to bring peace. “She just saved us.”

ㅤㅤ

“She just… YOU WERE HIGH WITH FUCKING MUSHROOMS!” Hope moved closer to Jules, not in a very nice way.  “You killed someone because you were high! You killed our coach! The only adult who could guide us in this madness!”

ㅤㅤ

“Hey, don't talk to her like that!” Natasha stood up and pointed at the girl, making her step back.  “You were too while you were drooling the ground like a fucking worm.”

ㅤㅤ

“I killed him because he was going to do something to Wanda!” Jules sniffed, a little surprised that Nat stood up for her.

ㅤㅤ

“Well, we don't know now how it was because the Coach is dead!” Sharon huffed, but those words earned everyone's attention. ㅤㅤ

“Excuse me? Are you saying that I'm lying?” Wanda frowned, leaving that towel aside. Y/N was about to get up and hit Sharon, but didn’t because Wanda placed a hand on her shoulder.  

ㅤㅤ

“The fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/N screamed anyway, feeling a shooting pain due to the swelling.

ㅤㅤ

“All I'm saying is we should listen to both sides...and one is dead. Chopped. TWICE.” Sharon shook her head, perhaps a bit sorry for her words or perhaps she still believed in that.

ㅤㅤ

“I was there, he wanted to…” Wanda swallowed hard. “h-he wanted to do things against my will... And if you don't believe me, just look at Y/N's face.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N sighed deeply, trying to calm down. She was furious, especially with herself. Feeling so guilty and angry, how did she let him touch Wanda? How had she been so useless? She couldn't protect her.

ㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤ

FIVE DAYS LATER

ㅤㅤ

Things didn't seem to improve between them, much less in survival. According to Jennifer, they have been there for three months now, and now winter has arrived.  It could be seen in their faces, their bodies, and their spirits.

ㅤㅤ

Their lips dry and cut due to the cold, they were kept warm thanks to the fire that was lit all day. And sometimes even the blankets weren't helpful.

The worst came when some of them began to have flu symptoms, they were treated in the attic but without any kind of help, the condition progressed to pneumonia and died.

ㅤㅤ

The loss of those girls created a massive rift in them. The ones who believed that what happened to Jules had some kind of epiphany, and who just believed that it had been pure coincidence.

Strangely, those who first criticized her later began to treat her differently.

ㅤㅤ

Wanda sighed deeply and looked at the water in the bucket. Her pale hands turned red as she began to scrub the clothes. She didn't know why she did that, maybe because she didn't want to freeze to death in a corner. It was just water, they didn't even have soap anymore.

ㅤㅤ

“Are you okay?” Y/N knew it was the stupidest question she could ask, but did it anyway. Wanda was far from being okay, like all the other girls.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N was coming back from the day's hunt, which wasn't a hunt but more like wandering through the cold woods and looking for something to eat.

Her face was still hurt, although the swelling gradually disappeared, those wounds were beginning to heal slowly too., those wounds were beginning to heal slowly too., those wounds were beginning to heal slowly too.

ㅤㅤ

She took Wanda's hands, completely reddish from the cold, and caressed them to keep them warm.

Y/N knew that Wanda was having a difficult few days after Ward attacked her. Although the brunette tried to hide it, Y/N knew that the sadness inside was increasing. Nobody deserved to go through that.

ㅤㅤ

“Yeah, I'm just doing some laundry for myself.” Wanda only kept her gaze lowered, hadn't been feeling well for days.  “I don't like keep on wearing the same clothes, even if it's stupid and doesn't make sense.”

ㅤㅤ

 “Makes all the sense in the world, okay?” Y/N smiled tenderly and caressed her cheek, making Wanda look up. But even though those expressive green eyes could show all the love she felt inside, Y/N could also see the sadness and fear.

ㅤㅤ “I’m scared, detka.” Wanda said in a shaky voice, about to cry. Although she tried to be positive, everything seemed to get worse.  “I don't want to die.”

ㅤㅤ

“I won't let anything happen to you.” Y/N said worriedly, cradling Wanda's face in her hands.

ㅤㅤ

“I want to do so many things, you know? I want to go out with you on a nice date, I want to visit New York too.” The sokovian finally cried. “I want to tell everyone that I love you…”

ㅤㅤ

“Wands…” she whispered; Y/N's vision was clouded by tears.

ㅤㅤ

“I want us to go to dinner with my parents, because I know they will adore you. And- and I want to live, I don’t want to die here.” Wanda finally burst into tears, hugging her girlfriend tightly.

Y/N just closed her eyes, allowing the brunette to cry for a while. ㅤㅤ

However, when she looked up to look out the window, Y/N could only see something beautiful and terrifying at the same time. It was snowing, and that could only mean the worst.

ㅤㅤ

ㅤ

Tired of listening to how some of them argued with each other, the redhead decided to go out for a moment even though it was cold. Nat left the cabin and noticed how Jules was wrapped in a blanket, watching the trees.  “Hey… It's cold here.”

ㅤㅤ

But Jules didn't even answer.

ㅤㅤ

“It’s snowing…” Nat continued even though the dark-haired girl still ignored her. Snowflakes fell again and again, sealing their fates.  “It used to be something beautiful.”

ㅤㅤ

“I just want to be alone.” Jules murmured, settling in between the covers.

ㅤㅤ

“It's understandable when you've got fifteen girls in there talking for three months.” Nat smirked. She was trying to be nice to Jules, for the first time.

ㅤㅤ

Natasha just sat next to her, but far from making the brunette's heart race as so many times before, Jules just kept her gaze on the trees. Lost. ㅤㅤ

“Half of them think I'm special or something, and it just freaks me out. I'm sick of it.” Jules swallowed, she hadn't been the same since the Doomcoming.  “Half of them thinks I'm crazy… Maybe I am, I don't know what to think anymore.”

ㅤㅤ

Natasha turned to see her, a warm look this time. “You saved the girls, that's what matters.”

ㅤㅤ

“I can't think about it, only the blood on my hands.” The lump in her throat made it difficult for her to speak.  “And every time I get colder and hungrier. We are.”

ㅤㅤ

She turned to see Nat, both of them sharing a moment and a necessary connection.

For the first time, Natasha felt like wrapping her arms around Jules and not letting her go. Maybe because she felt that Jules wasn't looking at her the way she used to, and that affected her.

But the cabin door opened and a blonde came out of the house, walking towards them. Carol was holding a book, quite dusty.

ㅤㅤ

“Jules, come here. You must see this.” The blonde took Jules's hand and pulled her; Carol seemed more excited than the girl. They all entered the cabin again. ㅤㅤ

“Easy, Danvers. What are you talking about?” Natasha frowned, noting that Jules didn't seem to want to but she did it anyway.

ㅤㅤ

“We found this book behind some old wood in the attic, under where we found the symbol, remember? The rare symbol under the guy's corpse.” Carol exclaimed excitedly.  “You are the link with what surrounds us, with the wilderness. That horned or deer woman whatever, it’s… it’s the wilderness.”

ㅤㅤ

They all seemed quite confused, especially Y/N who was coming out of the kitchen with Wanda.

ㅤㅤ

“I’m not-” Jules said, her lips twitching uncomfortably. “I was just hallucinating.”

ㅤㅤ

“We found this in the stuff of the guy who lived here.” Helen Cho picked up the book and brought it closer so they could read it.  Jennifer looked at it a bit skeptically.

ㅤㅤ

‘Deer Woman and the Myth…’ Jennifer couldn't finish reading what it said, the book was destroyed by mold.   ㅤㅤ “It says here that the deer woman hunts men who have hurt women or children. She punishes them. See?” Helen and Carol looked excited. “It's what happened to you!”

ㅤㅤ

“That's not what happened.” Jules frowned, already more tired of all this. She's sick of everyone expecting something different than what it really was. “I killed Ward, I was high, that fucker was abusing one of my friends, that’s it.”

ㅤㅤ

“Yes, but-”

ㅤㅤ

“You both are taking this too far! This is just a stupid book full of myths and legends.” Natasha finally intervened between them.

ㅤㅤ

“Well, I do wanna know what it says there.” Sharon stepped forward, crossing her arms, ready to face them.

ㅤㅤ

“A lot of stuff in French but-” Helen muttered, opening the book and pointing to several old yellow pages. “It looks like the guy wrote some things at the bottom of the book.”

ㅤㅤ

“…‘she… it wants blood’.” She tried to translate the French, narrowing her eyes.  “Spill blood and you will get what you want. Something like that.”

ㅤㅤ

“That’s creepy.” Yelena frowned, walking away from that book. ㅤㅤ

Pietro came over to take the book and look at it, those girls were definitely starting to lose their minds. “I knew that guy was up to no good. Burn this now if you don't want to go crazy.”

ㅤㅤ

“But if you think about it, he's right. The guy.” Carol tried to convince them, or perhaps convince herself to believe in something before giving up and die there.

ㅤㅤ

“What are you talking about?” Y/N finally snapped. “He killed himself!”

ㅤㅤ Wanda stayed by her side, watching everything.

ㅤㅤ

“No, but... Every time someone dies, the wilderness rewards us with something.” Helen seemed so excited about it, she looked crazier than usual and that was already a lot. She used to be quite a quiet girl. “When Ward and the girls died, that boar came to us and let you kill it, remember? We ate for days… When Monica died of pneumonia a month ago, that flock of birds crashed into our cabin.”

ㅤㅤ

The mention of Monica made Pietro clench his fists, but he said nothing. Just let the others take over.

ㅤㅤ

“That was pure coincidence!” Y/N chuckled wryly, couldn't believe what she was hearing. “We were lucky! That’s it!”

ㅤㅤ

“You don’t know that!” Sharon snapped. “Maybe we should give that thing more deaths to feed us.”

ㅤㅤ

“What the fuck, Sharon?!” Natasha's eyes widened. She went too far.

ㅤㅤ

“Have you gone completely crazy?” Y/N yelled, several seemed quite surprised or pissed by the blonde's words, others not so much.

ㅤㅤ

“I'm starving, and don't act like everyone doesn't think the same!” The blonde reached out to take the book from her friend's hands and pointed at them.  “We are weak, we barely manage to wake up in the morning and get more wood!”

ㅤㅤ

“Yelena can't even catch a fucking fish, you're closer to catching a cold-” Hope added.

ㅤㅤ

“сука! The lake is fucking frozen!” Yelena yelled angrily, also insulting her in Russian.

ㅤㅤ

“It's winter, the lake froze over and we haven't eaten anything but bug or belt soup for a fucking week.  A FUCKING LEATHER BELT.” Sharon got fed up and took off, going up to the attic. Many girls followed after them, clearly choosing a side.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N and the girls looked at each other, knowing that this would bring nothing but madness.

ㅤㅤ

Y/N sighed deeply, feeling how the cold froze every part of her skin. They were lucky to have a few furs and clothes to survive outside for at least a  few hours. Their noses and sensitive parts of their faces were red and bruised from the cold. Nat walked beside her, trying to brush away the snow as they walked through the trees.

ㅤㅤ

“They're acting strange.” Y/N whispered, Natasha loaded the rifle ready to shoot whatever they saw.

ㅤㅤ

“I know. What Sharon said yesterday... they're losing their minds.” The redhead wrinkled her nose and pointed towards one of the trees, thinking that maybe it was a bird but then she noticed that it was just leafs. “Fuck! We all are. I thought that was a damn bird.”

ㅤㅤ

“I don't know what's wrong with them but if Sharon looks at me like that again, I'm going to throw her off a cliff.” Y/N growled, climbing a huge rock to observe some movement around them, but only saw snow and trees.

ㅤㅤ

“We’re hungry. We need to eat protein, and it's already started to snow. Yelena can't fish anymore, and we can't find anything.”

ㅤㅤ

Y/N looked worried. Natasha was always their leader, ever since she joined the team. If she didn't know what to do, then they were lost. “What are we going to do?”

ㅤㅤ

 “I don’t know.” Nat looked at her sadly, there were only a few more hours to walk before the sunlight went out.

ㅤㅤ

Hours later, both returned to the cabin completely exhausted and discouraged. They had found nothing, not even a wretched worm to catch.

They all looked at them hopefully, like every afternoon, but they did not bring empty hands.

ㅤㅤ

“You’re okay?” Wanda asked quickly, reaching out to help them remove their clothes and move them closer to the fire. They could take a hot bath in the tub with water that they heated on the firewood, but sometimes it was better to only do it in extreme cases.

ㅤㅤ

But Sharon intervened, arms folded, growing weary. “AND? Did you get anything?”

ㅤㅤ

Neither said anything, they simply kept their gazes on the flames that flared as much as Sharon's anger. Y/N shook her head.

ㅤㅤ

“I see you guys come back empty-handed like the losers you are, and I thought you couldn't be more useless.” The blonde spat, moving from one side to another like a caged animal. Now it wasn't just Sharon, but some of the girls. “You two are death itself.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Do you want to say it to my face? Huh?” Y/N finally snapped, rushing towards her but Nat stopped her. “I’ll fucking kill you! I'm done with you!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Do it, PLEASE, at least we would have something to eat!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The screams drew everyone's attention, who came into the room worried. Natasha kept trying to stop Y/N, but Sharon made it pretty difficult by saying that stupid thing. “Don’t say that! What the hell is going on with you?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“We already tried your options, and it got us nowhere. You two go hunting every day and come back empty-handed.” Some girls nodded.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“It's hard when there's nothing but damn snow!” Y/N huffed. “The river is frozen-”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“We have nothing else to eat but the bones of the birds that crashed into the cabin, and I'm sick of dead bird soup!” Sharon spat out the poison, turning to look at the others. “This is fair… Who thinks we should try our option now?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Sharon, I understand that you always wanted to be the center of attention, but shut up already.”   

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“We have already tried, letting you go hunting and they have not brought anything.” This time it was Carol who said that, surprising her friends especially Y/N and Jules. “Maybe it's time to try something new.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N narrowed her eyes.  “What do you mean, Carol? You can't be serious.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Someone has to die.” Helen held up the book, pointing to the pages.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda just opened her eyes wide, unable to believe what she was saying. She just shook her head, taking Y/N's arm to calm her down.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You’re insane.” Jules laughed wryly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You can't do this, it's madness.” Natasha giggled sarcastically, she really couldn't believe the stupidity and ignorance she was hearing.  “It's an old book by a fucking suicidal guy! doesn't it tell you something?!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Sorry? Have we gone back to the time where we had to sacrifice people?” Wanda said annoyed and disgusted just thinking about it. “Have we gone that far?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Well, you tell me, four-eyes. We are heating water in pots and living by candlelight.” Sharon hissed.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I TOLD YOU DON'T CALL HER THAT!” Y/N pushed her, Sharon responded in the same way until they were all separated again. Pietro seemed to hold back, keeping to a corner. If Y/N hit her, he would be very proud.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Everyone, choose NOW.” Sharon pointed at everyone.  “I'm sick of useless leaders. We are less and less, and the most coherent way is for one of us to sacrifice herself for the others, going away.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Jennifer put a hand to her face, trying not to hit her for the nonsense she was saying. Y/N, Wanda and the others were the same. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Helen nodded. “When wolves know that they are going to die, they know they are a burden to the pack. They just go away to die alone.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“We're not a pack of wolves.” Nat added, rolling her eyes and putting her hands on her waist.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“This is the way we'll do it.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ 

“Sharon… you’re going insane.” Y/N moved closer until she was in front of the blonde, but Sharon just looked at her with enormous anger and envy.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“YOU ALL. Vote right now, who wants to keep eating bug soup or do something about it.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

First, they were all quite doubtful whether to do it or not. They didn't want to cause more trouble, but at the insistence of both, they began to raise their hands.

Those who wanted to keep following Y/N and Natasha, or who wanted to try Sharon and Helen's way. They were seven against eight.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Oh no.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N frowned, seeing how some of them looked at her with pity but they had already decided, betraying them. The last one to give the final vote to them was Carol.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Good.” Sharon smiled.  “We'll make it easy. Pass me the deck.”  

ㅤㅤ

The blonde took the deck of cards that Hope gave her and showed them one of the cards. The Queen of Hearts. “We will take a card, and the one that draws the Queen of hearts... is the one who must go and face the wilderness.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha chuckled wryly, shaking her head. Really hurt by how crazy they were getting. “Oh, you guys had everything planned out perfectly while we were away, didn't you?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I understand that being hungry can make you all impulsive and reduce your fucking ability to make decisions in the long run, but this is wrong.” Y/N added.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

She took Wanda's hand to get away from that group and go up to the attic, feeling enormous pain for their betrayal. “So fucking wrong.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤ

Gathered in the attic and illuminated by a gas lamp, Y/N looked at the door before approaching her friends. There were Wanda, Natasha, Yelena, Jules, Pietro and Jennifer.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“This is crazy.” Y/N whispered, watching them with concern. “We must stop them.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha sighed. “What do you suggest to do?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“This is my fault, they're crazy because of what I said when I was on mushies. I'm sorry.” Jules mumbled, her gaze completely lost.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“This is not your fault. Hunger is having a serious effect on them, it’s affecting them psychologically." Wanda leaned over to take the girl's hand, squeezing it softly. Thanks to Jules she was alive, she didn't care if was dancing naked to some weird god while she was high, Jules saved them.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“They're planning to kill us one by one.” Jennifer glanced at the attic door out of the corner of her eye, a little worried. “They were our friends.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Not mine, tho. They hated me a little.” Wanda scrunched her nose.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Maybe they're just bluffing.” Y/N just closed her eyes, completely stressed and in pain.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I don’t know…” Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Remove the bullets from the rifle… None of them are to be trusted now.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

That small group looked at each other and nodded.

The world is a vampire, sent to drain.

Gathered in a circle, they all looked at each other in front of the cabin. That place where long ago they had celebrated together, laughed and danced.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The cold began to burn their skin while Helen brought the book, the others carried the skull of the deer they hunted that first time. Like a divine message, inside the cabin, the fireplace burned fiercer than ever.

Y/N and Natasha looked at each other worriedly. This was insane.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“We need to find a way to stay alive.” Helen said and lit one of the candles on the skull. Carol brought that deck of cards to which they whispered: ‘We hear The Wilderness and it hears us.’

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“This is fucked up.” Y/N whispered, but no one paid attention.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda settled next to her, holding her hand tightly and Pietro's on the other side.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Carol held up the queen of hearts card for everyone to see, then arranged it in the deck, shuffling it well so it would get lost among the others.

Now everything depends on luck or wilderness.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Carol pulled out her card, followed by Sharon and Helen, who pulled out others. Neither was the queen and that made them sigh. The blonde approached Natasha, who just snorted.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Do it or it will be you.” Sharon ruled, approaching with a menacing look. Swallowing, the redhead looked at her with a deathly glare and took a card. It took her a few seconds to show it.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Eigh of spades.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Next was Jules, who with trembling hands took the card and looked at it before showing it.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Five of diamonds.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The brunette sighed and Carol approached each of them, who were taking a card until she reached Y/N. Keeping her gaze up, Y/N walked over to take a card.

Before looking at it, she clenched her jaw and lifted it up.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ Ace of Clubs.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The girl just swallowed and handed the card back to Carol, staring at her. The blonde seemed so guilty, couldn’t even keep her gaze on her friend.

The sokovian smiled and exhaled leaving that fear, feeling an enormous release when she saw that Y/N was safe.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The next one was Wanda, who moved a little nervously but Y/N smiled slightly at her, trying to make the girl feel safe.

Before everyone's gaze, who looked like enormous birds of prey, Wanda inhaled deeply and took the card from the deck, closing her eyes and praying she wasn't next. When she turned the card over, Wanda knew that the die was cast.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Queen of Hearts.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N's body tensed upon seeing the card, when it fell to the ground because Wanda's hands began to shake.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Half of them gasped while others looked at her like she was dinner.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“This is the way we all made the deal.” Sharon closed the book and walked over with the hunting knife, handing it to Carol.  “You can submit or you can run.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“The fuck?!” Natasha stepped forward, as did her friends, shielding her. Pietro stepped in front of his sister, about to go at whoever it was. But even though they tried, the other girls surrounded them.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Especially when Sharon raised the rifle, pointing it at Pietro’s chest. “It’s what we all agreed on. Stay away or I will shoot.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“That rifle has no bullets.” Y/N scoffed.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“There's one on the rifle, one on my pocket… that I took before you guys went hunting yesterday.” Sharon smiled all smug and then loaded the gun, making the cartridge jump, proving her right. “I won't ask again. MOVE.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

They all tensed, but Wanda moved forward leaving them behind. Her huge green eyes showed the fear she felt, as well as the tears.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“We're not really doing this, are we?” Y/N giggled and took a step towards Wanda but one of them stopped her.  “Come on, it was just a joke. You can't do this shit.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

But none of them listened, the only one who seemed concerned was Carol. Pietro managed to punch one of them and moved forward but another hit his stomach, crumpling him.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“It’s Wanda, she saved and healed your wounds.” Y/N tried again, watching as her girlfriend closed eyes and let the tears fall.  “You all actually lost your minds!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

They all started screaming as Sharon advanced with the knife on Wanda.  “Things must be done as the wilderness commands.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Don't you dare touch her.” Pietro hissed, trying to get free but three of them held him now.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Don’t do this… This doesn't make any sense.” Jules prayed that they would open their eyes, leave the madness behind.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Turn around.” But when Sharon raised the knife, Y/N exclaimed in despair:

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I volunteer!” Y/N took a step forward, not knowing what that meant or what was going to happen, but she would do anything to save Wanda’s life. “Let it be me!”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You can’t do that.”  Wanda shook her head quickly. Now the fear was much worse.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Yes, she can.” Sharon cut her off, then pulled out the hunting knife and gave it to Carol.  “If wilderness accepts it, it is.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N took a step forward, taking courage, for the first time in her life. Her friends tried to stop it but Sharon pointed at them again.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Turn around.” Carol ordered, swallowing hard. Y/N just swallowed and turned around slowly and awkwardly, feeling how her muscles hardened. She didn’t know if it was because of fear or cold.

Y/N looked at her friends for the last time, who only seemed to cry and scream. The coldness of her knife blade made her jump.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N gasped. “Wait!” ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Bravely, she took Carol's hand and turned to face her once more. Her hands and legs trembled like jelly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Not like that.” Y/N turned to face Carol, feeling how tears fell down her face. Like her, Carol allowed herself to shed tears as well. “You're gonna have to look me in the eye… if you're going to slit my throat, do it by looking me in the eye.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

For the first time, Carol hesitated. She pressed her lips together, trying not to cry but it was impossible.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Don’t do this to me, Y/N.” Carol whimpered, feeling her hand shake. The edge of the knife began to scrape Y/N's skin, but the seconds passed and she couldn't. “I can’t.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The blonde’s voice cracked. “You’re my friend.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The Y/N team sighed in relief.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You've always been good at kicking but never at using your head.” Y/N murmured whimpering too, remembering the times both participated in the best plays together.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

The blonde came closer to whisper something in her ear, without removing the knife from Y/N’s neck. But with her free hand, Carol hugged her.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Y/N?” Carol whispered with a shaky voice. “The rifle only has one bullet on the barrell. Just one.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“What?” Y/N whispered too, widening her eyes in fear.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Run.” Without further ado, Carol pushed her away towards the door and lunged at Helen to punch her, allowing Y/N to escape.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“You fucking traitor!” Sharon screamed and shot Carol in the chest, taking her life instantly. At the horrified scream of the other girls, the blonde ran after Y/N leaving the rifle but taking the axe.

Nat and Jules rushed over to Carol to try to help her and stop the blood but it was impossible. The lost look and pale face of the girl only showed that she died. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Stay here and keep them here.”  Pietro told his sister before going out the door.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Pietro, please.” Between tears, Wanda prayed that her brother and Y/N were okay.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Are you running? Is that your choice?!” Sharon ran after Y/N between trees. Screaming and howling like wild animals, she and Helen ran across the Canadian arctic tundra.

While running on the cold snow, Y/N looked back when she heard a horrible human howl.

ㅤㅤㅤ

They were crazy, they had lost their minds. They shot Carol. She stopped behind the huge tree, trying to lose them.

Y/N closed her eyes when she heard the footsteps of those girls, following her way.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N tried to hold back crying, just clenched her jaw and closed her eyes. She was so afraid, like never before.

Y/N didn't want to die, she didn't want to leave this world, she wanted to have a girlfriend, be a better person, choose a good career at any college that would accept her. It wasn't fair to end her life like this.

ㅤㅤㅤ

It wasn’t fair.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought her eardrums would burst soon.

Y/N’s eyes widened when she heard their howls approaching again, so the girl ran back in the opposite direction. She knew this place, traveled it thousands of times more than them. ㅤㅤㅤ

“Use your head, Y/N.” She told herself before taking one of the paths towards the lake. Behind the lake was the place she found long ago, where she and Wanda used to hang out. That place would be good to hide, yes.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N ran across the frozen white lake, despite the stumbles and pain. Despite the cold she felt, she ran with all her might.

Especially when she heard how they were running after her in the lake. But after a few minutes, the terrifying sound of crack made her stop short, fear paralyzed her.

ㅤㅤㅤ Slowly, the ice around her began to crack but if she didn't move, everything would be fine.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Of course, the others didn't seem to have noticed, so when Helen and Sharon ran towards her desperately, Y/N turned to see them taking a step back.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You’ll die.” Sharon raised the axe.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We all will eventually.” Y/N swallowed and waited for the end. She stomped on the ice below them and it shattered completely, causing them to fall into the frozen water.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The frozen water threatened to freeze her lungs.

Y/N swam into the water and tried to rise to the surface, but something grabbed her leg, pulling and sinking her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Sharon insisted on haunting her life, even to take Y/N with her. ㅤㅤㅤ

They struggled underwater until slowly their hands lost the strength to continue. Y/N saw with sadness how the light was lost in Sharon's gaze, she was gone.

Sharon's frozen hands were still clinging to her jacket, pulling it down.

ㅤㅤㅤ

And soon she would be gone too.  Feeling how the last breath and air escaped from her lips, Y/N closed her eyes.

But at the last moment, like a miracle, a hand grabbed her arm and pushed to the surface. Not just her, but Sharon as well.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Pietro helped Y/N out of that hole, both desperate for as much air as their lungs would allow, even though it hurt like thousands of daggers.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Th-thank you.” Y/N stammered shivering with cold. She took Sharon's arm and they both pulled that body out of the water. “Why risk your life for two corpses?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“B-because you deserve to live, you m-make my sister happy like I've never seen her… and as I told you before, you're a good l-leader.” Pietro was shaking too, getting up slowly and helping Y/N to do the same. "And her? We d- we don't want them to think we killed her, you both fell into the r-river. We'll b-bury her like the rest.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

When they both arrived at the cabin with Sharon's cold body, they all seemed quite surprised and sad at the same time.

Sharon's madness had brought everyone to a point of no return, especially for Y/N and Carol.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Completely frozen, the first to take the hot bath was Y/N, who wouldn't stop shaking. Pietro spent a long time in front of the fireplace, until the bath was ready. Of course, that decision would cost him dearly.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Her gaze was so lost in the flames of the fireplace; how had everything become so terrifying?

Y/N felt like something inside of her completely snapped. Deeply broken. Perhaps being about to die slit by one of her friends, or seeing that friend die in front of her, plus they hadn't eaten well for three months.

ㅤㅤㅤ

It was all so painful that she allowed herself to shed a few more tears.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Hey.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha's soft voice caught her attention, but Y/N couldn't take her eyes off the fire.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Asking if everything was alright seemed fucked up, so the redhead decided to go for the best she could: “Is there anything I can do to ease the pain?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N finally looked at her with a look full of sadness but also kindness.  “Where’s Wanda?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“She's with Pietro in the attic, taking care of him. I think he has a slight fever. Jules is helping too.” Natasha sighed and sat down next to her best friend.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N looked down, feeling quite guilty. Pietro risked her life for her and now he was fighting to stay alive. With all her heart, she hoped Wanda didn't hate her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Nat said with a lump in her throat, her green eyes brimming with tears.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N just nodded slowly and sighed deeply, she must be strong. For all the girls who were left.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We can't bury them, the ground is frozen and the snow...” Y/N whispered, she couldn't go on.

ㅤㅤㅤ Natasha nodded, surprised.  “We have to burn them.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah…”

ㅤㅤㅤ

With Jenn and Yelena’s help, they took Carol and Sharon's body to the pyre they had made with some logs and branches. While the sun was hiding on the horizon, the fire began to lick the branches and the bodies of those girls hungrily.

The rattling of the fire was all that could be heard.

ㅤㅤㅤ

With sadness and a few tears, they watched from the window as the fire burned the bodies of those who were once their friends. ㅤㅤㅤ

But after a while, as a horrible dark monster deep inside them woke up, the smell reached them and tortured them. A monster awakening in the need for survival, awakening thousands of thoughts and feelings that made them conflict.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N swallowed as fire lit their eyes. All of them, sharing the same moral battle.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Y/N?” For the first time, Natasha sounded completely fragile. Y/N turned to see her, noticing the sadness and disappointment in her green eyes. Self control.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Her full lips trembled.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m so hungry... it's hurting me.” Natasha wept, so ashamed of herself, feeling her eyes fill with tears. “I don't want to do this, but I feel like something is in me... something so bad… so hungry.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N remembered Wanda's words, completely heartbroken. “I'm scared. I don’t wanna die here. I wanna live.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

And those words marked her like hot steel on her skin.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We need to survive.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

The hours went by and Wanda didn’t abandon her brother.

The cold and the heat, the tremors in Pietro's body. The tears that she was tired of shedding. Jules decided to go down for a moment to discuss the situation with the girls, Pietro seemed to be fighting a high fever and cough.

ㅤㅤㅤ If he didn't make a recovery, he could progress to complicated pneumonia and that wasn't a good prognosis.

ㅤㅤㅤ The sokovian sighed, watching how Pietro managed to calm down for a moment, grateful that someone was going up to the attic.

ㅤㅤㅤ

She turned quickly when she heard the voice of Y/N, who sat next to her. In her hands, Y/N brought a steaming bowl which made Wanda's hopes revive.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Hey, babe.” Y/N smiled slightly, with a certain sorrow.  “I brought something for both of you. My favorite sokovian team.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda just looked at her with teary eyes and nodded, glad to see her there. “Thank you, detka.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

The brunette kissed her cheek carefully and took the bowl to bring it closer to her brother, so she could feed him.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“What is it?” Wanda frowned, curious.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It will keep him alive.” Y/N replied without elaborating, hoping she would understand that the idea was to survive.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda looked at her for a moment, not knowing what to say. Words were unnecessary at that moment. She just took the bowl and nodded, moving closer to Pietro who was burning with fever.

If they wanted to survive, they had to try.

ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤNOW

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N returned to the living room, noticing that Nat and Wanda kept chatting pleasantly. She smiled, thinking about how beautiful the brunette looked today And when their eyes met, this time in a very different way, Wanda smiled.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“So…” Jules walked past her, snapping her out of her daydreaming.  “You both suggested we meet, and I must say that a delicious spaghetti is cooking in the kitchen so…” Jules sat next to her wife. “We have a while to chat.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah, I’m surprised these two are not killing each other.” Nat arched an eyebrow. Wanda and Y/N looked at each other for a moment and said nothing, sitting down on the sofa. ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yep, well… ” Wanda started, sitting next to Y/N. “We have something to tell you.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“WANDA has something to tell you.” Y/N quickly corrected it.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Coward.” The sokovian whispered, shaking her head. She took a deep breath to take courage and finally express that great secret.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We found out the person who is blackmailing us.” She pursed her lips, Y/N just nodded watching her friends widen their eyes in surprise.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“What?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“That's great, let's go find this asshole right now.” Natasha got up from the sofa, ready to go but then she stopped when she saw how her friends shook their heads.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah… We already found him.” Y/N narrowed her eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“What do you mean?” Jules frowned.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“The blackmailer was Vision.” Wanda finally let go, and closed her eyes when her friends yelled 'WHAT' at the same time, again.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda took the time to explain everything that happened with Vision, and why he did it. Of course, that didn't seem to matter much to Natasha, who seemed completely furious.

Especially after knowing that he was to blame for beating her pregnant wife.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Then everything is fine, besides that he will return the money to Y/N…” Jules placed a hand on her chest, feeling her soul return. “What happened is still safe with us.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Does Vision know what we did?” Natasha frowned as she leaned over to pick up a can of soda. Ever since Y/N came back, no one drank alcohol around her. Not because she wanted to, but to respect her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“He knows nothing, nor will he say anything. I swear.” Wanda sighed. Y/N placed a hand on Wanda's back, as a sign of support. But that made their friends look at them curiously.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“What we did…”  Jules began somewhat thoughtfully. “It's not easy, for none of it was.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Leaving that weight behind takes a lot of pain and time and we have all paid for it.” Y/N nodded. “We tried to survive, and the others as well.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“They lost their minds, and how not to? We spent a year and a half in the forest.” Natasha said with some regret, looking down. There were no days where she didn’t remember her friends, her team. “And we did it too.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Was there really something there? Playing with us?” Y/N hesitated to ask but did, she needed to know.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We will never know, but that horror must be left behind.” Nat sighed heavily.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I'm really sorry for everything that happened to us. Every night I pray to whoever, that they are okay. None of them deserved that.” Wanda said and they all remained silent for a moment, remembering her brother. ㅤㅤㅤ

After a moment of silence, listening to some soft music, Jules cleared her throat.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Changing the topic…” The black-haired girl bit her lower lip and looked at Natasha, who smiled tenderly.  “We want to tell you something.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

She looked at Nat who squeezed her hand and nodded, giving the okay to finally let go. One of the most important moments of their lives.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We’re pregnant.” Jules let out an excited squeal. “We are going to be moms!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda and Y/N opened their eyes wide, as big as their smiles. Finally some joy came into their lives, after so much pain.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“OH MY GOD!” Wanda squealed. “That’s amazing!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Dude, we’re having a baby!” Y/N screamed too; they both tried to fake surprise. But Natasha was a really good detective, and Jules was too empathetic.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Yeah, you told her already, don't you?” Nat narrowed her eyes and threw a cushion at Y/N. “You dumbass!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You had to open your big mouth!” Jules did the same, attacking Y/N with pillows, laughing.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“SORRY, I WAS SO  HAPPY. I COULDN'T CONTAIN MYSELF!” Y/N exclaimed between laughs, trying to cover herself with the pillows.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Sorry, detka, I don't know how to lie.” Wanda scrunched her nose and laughed. “I couldn't help it.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You're very lucky I love you.” Y/N winked at her, playfully. But her friends soon noticed, they stopped short, still holding the cushions in their hands.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Wait, you… you two are-?” Jules narrowed her eyes and smiled happily, pointing at them. “You bitches. You finally did it.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“No, really? they don't stop ogling each other, have you noticed it NOW?” Nat continued with the joke and they all laughed.

ㅤㅤㅤ

After a delicious dinner, some smiles and knowing glances, Y/N was with her sister in the kitchen, washing the dishes while Wanda and Natasha chatted in the living room about being a mom.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Jules passed one of the dishes and Y/N dried them. Although Nat offered to buy her a washing machine so many times, Jules always said that washing the dishes relaxed her.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I'm so glad you're okay, you both trying to do this right.” Jules smirked, glancing sideways at Y/N. “You look much happier and healthier, I am very happy to see you like this. You deserve it.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N smiled and nodded. “I feel... so much better than before.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

She stopped for a moment, thinking well about the words she would use.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Every morning when I wake up and every night when I go to sleep, I stop feeling that deep dark hole inside of me. I'm beginning-... I'm beginning to think that maybe something good could happen to me.” Y/N's voice showed how hopeful she felt. Jules turned quickly to see her, her eyes showed how moved and proud she was.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I'm so proud of you, Y/N. Mom would be too.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You think so?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I do.” Jules nodded and looked down to turn off the faucet and hand her the last plate.  “You deserve to be happy, so does she, you have no idea what Wanda was like before you came. I don't know what you two have been doing all this time, but I have to tell you, she looks... happy. Glowing.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N smiled and nodded, wiping down the plate. “You know, I was thinking about what you said today? About what we did.”  she swallowed. “I let all of that get to me, and what we went through later with Mama Claire... I left you alone and I'm so sorry.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We can't fix much of what we did, but we can do better. Every time we can.” Slowly, Jules reached out to hug and rest her head on Y/N’s shoulder. After a moment, she dared to speak, somewhat embarrassed. “I'm so afraid.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Afraid of what?” Y/N looked down, noticing Jules's blank look.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Sometimes I feel like this little baby deserves so much better.” The woman bit her lower lip, releasing one of her deepest fears. “I’m so lucky to have Natasha by my side, but I'm so scared, you know? I feel like something…something won't let me forget what I did there. Fucking Ward.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

She swallowed, feeling Y/N's hand caress her back affectionately.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Don't let fear or the past take away the most beautiful moments of your life. You’ll be an amazing mom.” Y/N said in a low voice, taking Jules's hand, smiling when she rested on her shoulder again. “Wonderful, kind, funny. You know math, that’s a lot, dude. Am I forgetting something else?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Oh stop it, you're just flattering me.” They both laughed and Jules patted her.  “But i’ve to say… you will be a great godparent.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Those words took Y/N by surprise, who turned to see her so surprised. “What?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Jules nodded, smiling. “You in?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Completely shocked and excited by the choice of her friends, she didn't know which emotion to show first. She felt happy, surprised, a little terrified of screwing it.  “Are you- are you sure?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“So sure.” She giggled when Y/N hugged her so tight, like a huge bear. “With my whole life. We are cousins, but we grew up together as sisters. Except for Natasha, there's no one who knows me like you do… And I know that there will be no one in this world who will take better care of my little one.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You know Wanda would do better, she has experience with kids.” Y/N whispered, looking down for a moment while her friend poured three cups of coffee for them, one cup of tea for herself.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Well, you guys are together, aren’t you?” Jules winked at her.  “Then it’s the same. Also the other godparent will be Yelena. So this baby will go crazy!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

They both shared a laugh, before returning to the room, Jules took her arm.  “I love you, Y/N.” She caressed her cheek with unique softness, her brown eyes brimming with tears. “My sweet brave Y/N. I am proud to be your sister.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Completely moved by her words, Y/N smiled.  “I love you so much, Jules.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

And the months passed quickly, especially when you're happy. ㅤㅤㅤ

Natasha and Jules were able to enjoy every month of the pregnancy. Of course, the redhead became very protective of her wife, and their little bumblebee. Although they could have figured it out long ago, they decided not to find out if it was a boy or a girl until birth.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N always showed how proud she felt to be the godparent, although it always unleashed adorable fights with Yelena to see who was better auntie or with which of the two the baby kicked the most.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Beating all the odds, Y/N stayed sober all those seven months.  By attending a NA group and a new therapist, the dark haired woman was able to leave behind much of what was hurting her to start anew.

And Wanda was a big part of the new hope inside her. The relationship with Wanda improved a lot.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Since they had spent the first night together, the dates became more frequent. Of course, the sokovian seemed to want to go slow, it was the best for both, but at the same time they both wanted so much more.

Y/N also worked hard to make her feel safe, patiently winning her heart.

The twins fully understood that their parents were divorcing because they were no longer happy together. That Vision was in love with Virginia and that Wanda was in love with Y/N. ㅤㅤㅤ

The first time they met, Y/N was terrified. She hesitated many times whether to knock on the door or run away but finally, she decided to face all her fears for Wanda. Because she deserved it, they both deserved a chance. Incredibly, she made the best decision of her life.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“So, do you like it?” Y/N asked as she cut up some mini sandwiches and brought them to the coffee table in front of the sofa.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“We love it!” Billy exclaimed with that console in his hands. Tommy nodded, taking a mini sandwich.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“When I was a kid, I loved playing this one. My family didn't have a lot of money so I sold some candy and delivered newspapers so I could buy it.” Y/N smiled to see how Billy was looking at the console with curiosity and an adorable smile.

ㅤㅤㅤ

For a while now the boy hadn't stopped telling her how happy he was catching pokemons in the 'Fire Red Pokemon'. ㅤㅤㅤ

“They are not the same one, of course. I lost mine a long time ago on a trip with your mom and your aunties.” She swallowed hard and smiled sadly. “But I got these for you. It’s not the new Switch one, that… one is so much better, but… I thought you might like this one too. I like it.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Feeling a bit shy, Y/N always had a soft spot for old-school stuff. As if part of her didn't want to give up the innocence and past she lost in the woods.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Thank you, Y/N!” The twins said at the same time and hugged her waist, making her laugh a bit. Y/N ruffled their hair when they parted.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I’m glad you liked it, boys. I was afraid it would bore you.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“This is amazing! We like spending time with you, Y/N.” Tommy smiled and ran back to the sofa.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“You’re so funny… and you make mom happy.” Billy was encouraged to say with a toothy smile and then followed his brother.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I'm not that boring, huh. Take that, anxiety.” Y/N sat on the other couch, taking control of the TV. Outside, the sky was beginning to darken from the coming storm.

ㅤㅤㅤ

They were together for another half hour until the door opened, Wanda came into the house somewhat in a hurry and soaked by the rain.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I'm so sorry! I swear I didn't want to be late, it's just that in the end I couldn't find a place to park, it was chaos!” Wanda exclaimed as she took off her soaked coat in the doorway. She couldn't help but smile when she saw them like that.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N came over to give her a little peck and help her with her bag and coat.  “So? How was it?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

The twins left the console and sat on the sofa, as expectant as Y/N to hear the news.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Oh… well…” The brunette scrunched her nose. She inhaled deeply, then released it.  “They gave it to me! I've got the job!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

The three approached and began to jump and cheer with the sokovian.

As soon as the little ones hugged their mother -and then walked away saying 'ew' because her clothes were still wet-

ㅤㅤㅤ

“The good thing is that I can do it from home.” Wanda explained to Y/N speaking fast, all excited.  “All I need is my laptop.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“That’s amazing, babe! Oh, I’m so happy for you.”  Y/N bit her lower lip. Finally everything started to go well, right?

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Me too.” Wanda smiled happily. “I can finally do something for myself. Isn't it amazing?”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It is, my love.” Y/N walked over to wrap her arms around her. “You deserve it more than anyone. I’m so proud!”

ㅤㅤㅤ

 “I love you so much, detka.” Wanda's green eyes sparkled with happiness.  

ㅤㅤㅤ Y/N just smiled tenderly.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“I love you too, luv.” They both looked at each other for a moment before leaning their foreheads together, losing themselves in each other.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Well, I’m gonna take a bath but first… I think today we can celebrate by ordering pizza and ice cream. What do you think about it? And maybe I’ll even let you guys try to beat me at Monopoly.” Wanda said, looking at the three of them.

ㅤㅤㅤ

The adorable twins squealed with excitement and jumped on the sofa happily. And although Wanda tried to stop them, she ended up laughing.

Y/N just smiled happily from where she was, feeling that maybe she finally had a place in the world. A comfortable and pleasant place.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Hours later, after a delicious pizza and a night of laughter, Y/N and Wanda slept peacefully for a few hours until a screeching sound interrupted them. Outside, the storm was fiercer than ever.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“It's so late... who is it?” Y/N murmured sleepily, trying to go back to sleep entwined with the body of her beloved. It was 2 AM. ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda just snuggled against the covers, opening one of her eyes to see how Y/N's phone began to vibrate and ring again insistently. “I don't know, it's your phone, detka.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Sorry.” Y/N muttered before yawning, sitting up on the bed to take the call. The screen said that her number was unknown, which made her frown. “Hello?... Yeah, it’s me.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N sat up in bed and ran a hand over her face, trying to wake up. She tried to understand what the person was saying, but nothing seemed to make sense.

Her eyes showed confusion and fear, her lips trembled.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“What? Wh- What do you mean?” Y/N said shocked, surprised, terrified. Hearing her voice like that, Wanda also got up feeling her heart jump. “No… No, that’s-”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Detka, what is it?” Wanda put a hand on her shoulder and tried to understand, Y/N seemed lost in shock.

ㅤㅤㅤ

With her teary eyes, Y/N begged: “That's not true.”

ㅤㅤㅤ

“N-no… You must be wrong.” She started to cry, getting up to put on her clothes and dropping the phone on the bed.

ㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda hesitated whether to hug her or take the phone, but she needed to know what the hell was going on.

ㅤㅤㅤ

“Hello? Yes, I’m-”  The brunette finally managed to understand, opening her green eyes wide, listening to the person on the other end of the call. “Oh… Yes, we will-”

ㅤㅤㅤ

Y/N walked away looking for her jacket but she couldn't help but walk down the hall and cry in silence. But the voices became distant, more and more. All Y/N could hear was the annoying beep. Like white noise. Everything about her was shattered. Everything inside her was starting to break down.

🐝🐝🐝 Only one chapter left.

This is the hardest chapter to write. The finale is all about present day. Although it is not direct, it is an allusion. I didn't know whether to make them make that decision or not, but the truth is that survival is harsh. I don't think I can made it as harsh and as selfish as in Yellowjackets.

Those women were selfish (and human, that's perfect. That's the point of the tv show, this moral battle), but our girls are not like that. They're good friends.

I'm babbling too much, I'm sorry if this is not okay for you. Maybe you'd better skip this past, and just finish the story with the next one. It's all about present. Have a good sunday, sweets. 🐝

ㅤㅤ

the cutest and lovely people tags ✨ @kaiidth-wandika @yourfavunsub @pawiie @fanboy7794 @sunsol-22 @scarlettbitchx @arcturusseer @imnotasuperhero @chtte @lesbians-in-outer-space @starry-night17 @cristin-rjd @kenlymar @chtte @marvelogic @druggedduck @aliherreraaa @widowwaddles @gingiesworld

ㅤㅤㅤ

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x reader

[ofsappho]

Heartless, Chapter 5

🔞 Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience, SMUT

-

You get into trouble and Ghost disciplines you for it.

CHECK TRIGGER WARNINGS/TAGS UNDER READ MORE

-

TRIGGER WARNINGS: in the first part of this chapter, homophobic slurs (fag, faggot) and insults are tossed around. From an inconsequential side character towards Soap. I want to note that I myself am queer/nonbinary, and I have been harassed/attacked/bullied for being queer. Additionally, this scene is directly inspired by real events. A friend of mine, who is queer + nb AND is a veteran, got into a fight during their service with another Marine on their base for saying vile homophobic shit. My friend dropped the guy in an instant. My friend knows I am interpreting their story in this chapter, and they approve.

SMUT TAGS: degradation (a lot of it), humiliation, spanking, bondage, dumbification, edging, spit kink, dacryphilia, bratting/brat taming, choking, face slapping, praise kink, overstimulation, squirting, care taking (tbc next chapter!). Knife kink. All consensual. By degradation, I mean degradation in the context of the smut.

Everything goes wrong like this:

You’re out with Ghost and Johnny to explore the base. 

They show you the fields where people like to play soccer. “It’s football,” your friend insists in his thick Scottish brogue. Ghost agrees with a grunt like the traitor he is.

Your heavy, exasperated sigh draws out chuckles from them both. “I’ll stop calling it soccer on the day you beat us at football.” And you don’t even like football. But fuck the British if they think they can get one over you. Well, the British and Scottish. Whatever.

The two of them start chattering- correction, Johnny chatters, and Ghost genuinely listens, you can tell, about sports and teams, and you regret bringing up the topic at all because you can barely follow.

What’s the difference between Manchester City and Manchester United? Isn’t that, like, the same thing?

As your husband discusses a recent game, a few guys kick around a ball, and some people smoke a few feet outside the designated smoking area. You watch a guy stub out his cigarette on the sign that says not to smoke elsewhere.

You’ve gotten too comfortable referring to Ghost as ‘your husband.’ Hm. You should check that impulse before it spirals into something that might validate Alejandro and Gaz’s conspiracy theories about love at first sight. Gross.

Do you know what else isn’t helping? Ghost’s refusal to let you be alone with them again. He doesn’t try to stop you or interfere, but you can’t ignore him lurking in the background like a little stalker whenever you socialize.

It’s… kind of cute.

Oh, and you finally encountered Roach in the wild. You spotted him in the mess a couple of days back, collecting the randomest assortment of snacks (Cool Ranch Doritos, a pre-workout drink for balance, you guess, a chocolate milk, and three lemon sugar cookie flavored energy bars).

He had on some interesting cat ear headphones, so you just waved and wordlessly gestured that you liked his headgear. He waved back, then shot you a thumbs up.

You tap back into your surroundings. Ghost has wandered into the smoking area to light up, and you might as well join him.

When you stretch out your hand, he plucks a smoke from his pack and places it delicately in your palm. He even lights it for you from a Zippo engraved with skulls, with one scarred hand cupped around the flame to keep it steady.

Johnny wrinkles his nose. “That’s gonna kill you in five years, you ken?” He stands on the other side of the painted smoking area line to hang while letting his disapproval be known.

You take a drag instead of laughing in his face. After all, he was the one who charmed every convenience store clerk at the young age of 17 into buying what he wanted without getting carded, smokes included.

“Since when have you been so health conscious?” You say as you blow the smoke away from Soap’s face.

Ghost does the same without thinking - like he’s stood somewhere and smoked while chatting with Soap enough times to make it a routine.

You envy the easy way they complement each other. You used to be like that with Johnny, and you wish… you want your own routines with your new husband, to know that he goes out into the world and does something different for the rest of his life because of you.

Distance is only natural, you tell yourself. You’re new to their friendship.

But Soap has been one of yours for so long, and Ghost is becoming yours faster than you thought possible. Like a rapacious strangler vine or fungal colony occupying a rotted tree, you find that you’re plotting all the ways you can twist yourself around and into Ghost.

Soap laughs. “Aye, well. You try getting shot a couple o’ times. Am not goin’ down over one of them cancer sticks.”

You hear it just as you tap some of the ash off the end of your cigarette.

“...can’t believe they let those fuckin’ fags…”

You bring the smoke to your mouth to conceal your grimace before turning ever-so-slowly. You’ve learned this lesson many times over; gathering further context is important— no need to bring a knife to a situation that does not call for knives.

The same guy you heard before continues with his little rant.

He’s a miserable-looking dude with a pasty milk face, no defined chin, a bad haircut, and a shitty name tag on his shitty uniform that says ‘Pvt. Langford.’

But somehow, despite lacking any discernible charisma, he holds rapt court with a bunch of other similarly-miserable peeons. “They’re a bunch of pussies, like, it’s pathetic, bro. Gonna give me fuckin’ AIDS or some shit if I gotta be in the same room. Criminal.” By now, he’s seen you watching him.

The corner of his thin-lipped mouth lifts as if he’s said something funny.

Eh. He’s maybe got half of a foot on you. At most. There are worse odds.

Then he slides his smarmy, revolting gaze from you to just over your shoulder, and his smirk grows. He’s looking at Soap.

You’ve seen this exact look before. You know what it means, what nerves motherfucking Langford is trying to trample on.

Before anyone can stop you, you’re across the smoking area and in Pvt. Langford’s face in about five seconds.

-

Soap thinks he’s about as level-headed and reasonable as the average man, but Langford has been getting on his nerves for way too fuckin’ long. For the whole time they’ve been stationed at this base, so, weeks.

Everyone knows Langford is a little shit. Everyone hates him and his bitch boys.

You’re just the first person willing to do something about it.

So while Johnny has never felt the urge to personally handle the Private’s homophobia because swatting flies is beneath him, he’s content to sit back and watch the show.

Naturally, Ghost tries to follow you. You’ve got the poor fellow whipped and wrapped firmly around your little finger.

He supposes he shouldn’t have expected any less.

Soap holds your husband back with an outstretched arm. “Let the lass do her thing,” He advises. You won’t appreciate it, and Soap has no intention of being on the receiving end of your wrath.

Ghost rolls his shoulders back. “Not gonna stop her?”

The Lt. doesn’t know, does he? “D’ya really think ya can?” Even more reason to let you go off. This will be fun and, frankly, a necessary introduction.

Ghost stills. “…” Not so new, then.

What a bloody buzzkill. Now look who’s fussing and clucking? Like a rooster.

Soap watches his teammate flex and crack his knuckles and decides that you owe him for what he’s about to say. “If she needs it, we’ll grab her before it goes too far,” He reassures Ghost before leaning against the ‘Smoking Area’ sign.

It’ll work out one way or another. No big deal.

The scowl on your face as you stare down Langford is somethin’ real ferocious. “What the fuck did you just say?” You demand, voice low and proud and loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in a ten-foot radius.

Langford laughs and tries to play it off. “That’s classified.” Oh, haha. Real fuckin’ original. Like half the girls in town haven’t heard soldiers try that line a million times.

The Army sure didn’t take Private Langford for his brain cells.

Next to him, Riley shifts from foot to foot. “She always like this?” He asks as if the words are throwing themselves against his mask and demanding to be let out.

“Mmm. Since we were wee mates.” From here, Soap can see how viciously you throw your cigarette to the ground and grind out the lit ember with your heel like the poor thing did something to you.

“No. Say it again,” You snap, cracking the sentiment over Langford’s thick head like you’re breaking a chalkboard in two.

Ghost stiffens up even further, and behind the mask, his eyes glint in the sunlight like that flame you just put out.

Is it possible that he’s…  impressed by you? “Go on. I just want to make sure that I heard you correctly. That we all heard you correctly,” You say icily.

Global warming would be solved in a day if they could translate your tone into real ice.

Watching Langford take a small step back without realizing it is funny as hell. Even his minions have backed away as your aura of menace sets off their self-preservation instincts with the subtlety of a pulled fire alarm.

Lt. Riley’s eyes narrow as he memorizes your scowl and how you crowd Langford forward without letting up. “Spitfire.” Damn. That’s some bloody high praise coming from him.

Heh.

Riley’s hood can’t hide the shadowy hickies on his throat; one would think that Ghost has realized it by now.

Are those teeth marks he spots? “You sound surprised. Figured she was teachin’ ya that already,” Johnny leers.

Ah, the expression he can make out under the skull mask. He wishes he had a camera so he could show you later.

Ghost closes his eyes for a long moment. “Shut your face.”

Across the way, Langford musters up a little courage. “Aw, are you mad? Did I make you mad ‘cause I spoke the truth, snowflake? Did those faggots get to you already?”

In the aftermath, even the birds stop chirping.

“Fighting words. Surprised you’re not out there with her,” Ghost says.

Only a fool would think the Lieutenant is relaxed right now; Johnny can tell that his breathing has slowed, that he’s holding perfectly still with an unbreaking focus on his prey.

That’s part of how Ghost manages to disappear in broad daylight. When those subtle signs of life go away, it’s easy to overlook him, unsubtle mask and all. 

He’d best save it for the field, but that’s none of Johnny’s business.

You two are so well-suited. “That’s the thing. About bein’ her friend. That bird- that bird’s a psycho.” If your marriage outlasts the bets everyone’s placed on an irrevocable breakdown, Soap figures he could make a killing on a matchmaking side hustle.

You take a deep breath. “I didn’t hear the truth. I heard a bunch of yapping from a little boy who a recruiter conned into signing his life away to lick the boots of his COs because he was a complete waste of resources otherwise.”

Yikes.

Occasionally, Johnny regrets quitting. He regrets quitting now, specifically; he could use the calming rush of nicotine. You’ve never ended fights in a good way, but this will end… spectacularly badly. He can see it already.

Ghost lets out a low whistle. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Then the Lieutenant looks around, and Soap realizes he’s checking for their Captain or any other superior officer.

Soap was planning on doing that anyway, and your new husband wins another point of approval in his book for thinking of it on his own.

“Pretty nice though, canny lie. Who else d’ya know that would fuck up a man for you without hesitatin’?” He says as he watches you open your mouth again.

“How does it feel to know you’re just that worthless?” Your voice rises and rises, acrid enough to melt paint, and it keeps Langford frozen in place.

“How long have you known her?” Lt. Riley asks.

“Eh… give or take sum’ ten years, prolly.”

“She like this the whole time?”

You go in for another round. “Thank God you’re not deployed anywhere important. It would be like the Bay of fucking Pigs all over again.” You’re close enough to spit on the Private, right fuckin’ close to his sallow face, and as your lip curls up, Johnny knows you’re definitely considering it.

Anger thrums in the air as bitter as gunpowder; it’s infecting Lt. Riley, churning in his posture, and it’s (unfortunately) starting to break through Langford’s shock.

“Aye. Never seen a law, or a rule, or a fuckin’ polis stop her. It’s nice not to fight alone, an’ if she had her way, I wouldn’t have lifted a finger in school.” He pauses, then looks at Ghost.

Johnny picks his following words with care. “Bet that one could carry the world on her shoulders if we’d let her. You know that she’s taken to you right quick?”

And then…

“Shut the fuck up, you dumb whore. Who even are you? Some slut whose only accomplishment is spreading your legs for a uniform? I’m not afraid to hit a little girl.”

Fucking Langford. Way to ruin a moment between mates, when Soap was just trying to help you.

God knows you need it; Lt. Riley is a piece of work.

The other man puts out his cigarette.

Now Soap has to think about how many soldiers he needs to threaten into silence after Ghost is through and how Soap will hide Langford’s body once he gets the final hit. “Lieutenant-“

They start moving in tandem, trying to get to you as fast as possible, like sharks circling after tasting blood in the water.

“Yeah, well, that’s funny ‘cause ‘little girl’ is what your mom calls me when we fuck,” You jeer before raising your hand.

Johnny loves you a lot, but man, do you make stupid choices sometimes.

-

Private Langford stumbles to the ground like a little bitch.

Damn. You didn’t backhand him that hard, and you’re not wearing any rings.

You can take a slap way better.

You stand over him as he clutches his face, practically cowering on the ground, and your knuckles are stinging, and all you feel is the adrenaline flash-flooding through your veins like cocaine or a really good fuck.

And then- strong, immovable arms clasp around your waist and yank you away.

Your hair’s in your eyes, and you can’t tell who’s holding you back, but whoever they are… you’re gonna make them regret it.

“Fuck you!” You howl at Langford, kicking and thrashing against the stranger’s grip.

You try to get an elbow in the side of whoever it is, but they evade it with ease. “Let go of me! I’m going to fucking kill you, you inbred motherfucker!” You scream as Langford gets to his feet.

The stranger carries you a few steps back and eliminates your chances of getting your nails in Langford’s face.

You redouble your efforts to free yourself. “Let me go! Let me at him! I’ll rip his fucking head off!”

The person shakes you like a rag doll. “Calm down. Calm the fuck down, lass. It’s me, Johnny. Stop your fucking fighting,” Soap hisses.

Oops. You stop moving all at once, causing Soap to almost drop you.

The adrenaline levels off, leaving you empty, and you drag breath after breath into your lungs to make up for it.

You shove your hair behind your ears just in time to watch Ghost put Langford in a headlock with beautiful, immaculate, careless ease.

It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him take anyone down, and it takes away the breath you just found. Like, your mouth goes dry, and you forget Soap is restraining you.

Just… holy shit. He moves like the hand of God, eyes flashing and skull mask fierce.

Langford blacks out the same second Ghost gets his arm around the other man’s neck, crumpling to the ground like a chewed-up paper doll.

Oh. Oh no.

Now you understand why Soap keeps you in place because Ghost tosses Langford’s unconscious body to the side without blinking twice and then beelines straight. towards. you.

Your hands push and hit Johnny’s arms. You need to- you need to run this time, get away, and get out of Ghost’s path.

Flee. You need to flee before he unpicks you with his teeth and eats your fucking bones like a fairy tale monster.

God fucking damn it, why won’t Soap let you go?

A rush, you can’t breathe, oof, your stomach hurts, have you been swept onto Ghost’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes?

The upside-down sight of his very well-formed ass in his jeans tells you that, yes, you are hanging from his shoulder as he takes you to a secondary location.

All the blood in your body surges to your head. “Ghost. Ghost, let me down,” You tell him, voice jostling with each step he takes.

No reaction.

If you could just breathe, an action obstructed by his stupid shoulder jabbing into your stomach, and clear the fuzz from your mind (thanks hanging upside down!), you’d make him regret this.

“Put me the fuck down. I’m not fucking kidding.” Again, nothing.

If anything, Ghost actually tightens the hold he has on your hips, accurately predicting that you’re seconds away from kicking him.

Fuuuuuck this. “PUT ME DOWN, YOU OAF. I AM YOUR WIFE, YOU CAN’T JUST-“ You try to be as loud as possible, so maybe someone will hear and save you? Or irritating enough to make him set you on the ground?

Ghost keeps walking. “No,” He tells you before digging fingers into the back of your thigh. It’s painful, and you inadvertently shut your mouth, teeth grinding together. For now.

“I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON’T SET ME DOWN THIS INSTANT-“

Once Ghost unlocks your front door, he shoves it open viciously with his boot and locks it behind you without letting you go.

You fully expect him to unceremoniously drop you on the bed, but he- he doesn’t.

He pulls you into his arms like a husband carries his wife on their wedding night and lays you down gently.

Then he backs away as if burned by your skin, backs all the way to the other side of the room.

Shit. Shit. You’re in trouble. You’re in so much trouble, Ghost leans against the wall and crosses his arms, and you can’t meet his gaze; you can only look at his shoes.

He sighs. “You know what’s gonna happen next. Nod if you know.”

You nod, still looking at the ground, and feel the humiliation and anticipation trying to strangle each other in your stomach.

“If you don’t want it, you need to get the fuck outta my sight. Right now. I can’t look at you,” Ghost tells you.

You’re not sure how to find the right words. Do you want to beg? Resist? Ask him if he’s proud of you? You end up shaking your head in a negative and propping yourself up on elbows planted firmly in the bed.

He doesn’t say or do anything for a few minutes. You know he can see you squirm, how your fingers flex and feet tap the ground.

You pick yourself off the bed and walk towards him like a moth drawn to a flame.

Ghost moves as soon as you cave. He plants his large hands on your shoulders and pushes you back, back, back, until your back slams into the wall with his body boxing you in.

Before your head can hit the wall, he slides his palm around the back of your skull to cushion you.

He braces that same arm on the wall as he speaks. “That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen some stupid shit.” You’re not really listening because his flexed bicep is right there, above your head, and he has to tap your cheek to get you to focus.

You look up into Ghost’s mask and his eyes- his eyes burn, greedily eating up your blush and your throat bobbing as you swallow your nerves.

His other hand trails along your neck and then wraps around it. “Thought you were s’posed to be smart. My smart, clever girl,” Ghost croons, all condescending like he’s talking to a misbehaving animal.

Then his voice deepens to a sound that’s just a touch inhuman. “You could’ve gotten hurt. That fuckin’ wanker almost laid a finger on you.”

Your heartbeat pounds fast, screaming in your chest. “I got him first,” You point out.

Ghost’s eyes crinkle at the ends. “That you did. You were brilliant there, love, won’t deny it.” Here’s where your flush brightens, where the praise makes you look away. “I see that went straight to your pretty little head.”

He falls silent when your tongue darts out to wet your lips.

“But oh my fuckin’ god. You can’t go ‘round gettin’ into fights like that.”

“It was for Johnny,” You protest weakly. You don’t regret a single thing, but you find yourself caving at the slightest pressure.

The hand on your throat tightens, not tight enough to do anything other than remind you that you’re his. “I don’t bloody care if it was for Jesus Christ himself. Nothing is more important than you. Than your safety,” Ghost amends.

But you heard him. Nothing is more important than you, he says.

Why does he care?

Ghost sees the fight flare up in your face. “Listen to me. Nothing. Not Soap, not me. You- you are…” He’s supposed to be scaring you right now. He’s meant to be reading you the Riot Act, and the part you play is the frightened doe he teaches a lesson to.

You’re scared for a whole different reason.

Ghost is looking at you, looking through you, and it’s like you’re a little girl again, learning that the only time people give a fuck is when you do something for them.

‘Nothing is more important than you’ plays over and over in your mind.

He lets go of your throat to grab your hand, the one you hit Langford with, and his gaze drops to your reddened, bruised knuckles.

When he talks, his voice sounds odd, like he’s shaking the rust off his vocal cords. “Fuck. I was so-“ Ghost cuts himself off.

His fingers are gentle with your fingers. He turns them over, runs his thumb along your palm. You’re not used to people touching you like that.

You find your words as fast as you can. “What? You were so what?” You challenge him.

You feel him drop your hand in favor of digging his fingers into your jaw. “You’ve talked a lot today, doll. The next thing you say better be a fuckin’ apology.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That’s how you wanna play this?” Ghost asks, eyes flat and unreadable.

You let him apply more pressure so your mouth lolls open, you let him think he’s got you. “Yep.” Then you poke your tongue out and lick the side of the finger pressed into the corner of your lips.

“Another stupid choice,” He tells you before letting go.

He wears holsters strapped on his back and jeans, and for the first time, you’ll get to meet what he keeps in them. “See, I was gonna be nice. Was gonna… fuckin’, I dunno, say some sappy shit, be real sweet, make sure you were okay…” Ghost says matter-of-factly as he finds a single-edged switchblade that is definitely illegal for civilian carry.

There are rules for that sort of thing. The blade is an inch too long, and that popping mechanism was outlawed in 1958.

You know that he keeps bigger knives on him, ones that look like they violate the Geneva Convention. In comparison, this is small fry.

Ghost deliberately pinches the collar of your shirt between his fingers. “But you’re gonna be a bitch about this, aren’t you? I’m gonna have to get it through your thick fuckin’ skull?” He asks, moving far slower than he’s capable of, slow enough that you can stop him if you want to.

You hear yourself pant desperately, you look at him with wide, vulnerable eyes, then hold perfectly still so that he won’t nick you.

The tip of the sharpened knife pokes a tiny hole in the fabric. “Hope you’re not too attached to these, doll,” Ghost tells you before slicing a clean line down the middle.

It’s cold in your bedroom, you had the air conditioner running earlier, and you blame your instinctual shivers on that instead of the need brewing under your skin (and between your legs).

When he pulls the tattered remnants of your shirt from your shoulders, you let him.

Your bra goes next. A swift rip and then your tits hang free and bare, nipples already beginning to harden.

He makes sure to click the blade back into the handle before reaching out to caress the heavy swell of your breasts, unable to resist stroking your soft skin even when he’s mad.

You picked a good day to wear a skirt that falls just past your ass with a hemline that dances teasingly around your thighs. To be clear, it’s not a good day for your skirt itself.

When the blade comes out again, Ghost cuts your skirt with steady fingers that brush your curved stomach.

Then he slips the knife between your underwear and your skin, carefully aiming the sharpened edge out so you feel the cool metal press into your heated skin without risking an accidental cut.

He doesn’t react to how your panties stick to your cunt when he takes them off you, most likely to deprive you of the satisfaction of any reaction at all.

You see part of his balaclava twitch, and after a moment, you realize he’s raising an eyebrow.

Right. Shoes. You kick them off with far too much eagerness.

He returns the closed knife to its designated holster. It’s very safe of him, very proper.

“I won’t go easily,” You remind Ghost.

He answers by covering your eyes with his hand and kissing you, his mask bunched over his nose and pressing awkwardly into your skin.

Each kiss makes you dizzier, hazier, you forget why you’re fighting, he ravages your mouth with his, and when you moan, it makes him even more feral.

He sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, and you shout at the pain and try to curl away. But the hand over your eyes keeps you in place, and you shudder against him, naked and helpless.

The webbed straps of his chest holster grind into your breasts and leave rough streaks of chafe wherever they touch your skin.

His tongue slips against yours, Ghost tastes like smoke and something uniquely him, it feels like he’s pouring nicotine into your synapses, and your spine relaxes, your muscles soft and compliant.

When you try to bite his lip back, he pulls away without acknowledging your unhappy whine.

“Open your fucking mouth,” Ghost snaps.

You do that and even stick your tongue out for good measure. You might not be able to see him, but he can see the little tease of how good you can be.

You hear him spit before you feel the glob of his saliva land messy and hot on your outstretched tongue. Your legs shift, and you press them together, anything to help with the pressure beginning to build in your core and the arousal trickling down your thigh.

Cloth rustles, and then Ghost removes the hand covering your eyes. His mask is back in place like he never lifted it at all. “Step away. Hands behind your back.”

You turn around on unsteady legs, then put your wrists together behind your back as ordered.

Something unclicks behind you, and then he pulls it off his… pants? His belt - he’s cuffing you with his belt, deftly weaving the nylon strap between your wrists and securing it into place.

As you test the strength and make sure he’s restrained your hands in a way that doesn’t cut off circulation, Ghost gathers your hair and drapes it neatly over one shoulder so it won’t bother you.

He touches your back and neck with an almost unbearable fondness. Fuck.

You feel him kiss your shoulder through the mask, closed-mouthed and chaste. “This isn’t coming off until you’re ready to behave,” He murmurs into your skin before sliding an arm around your waist, pulling the mask down, and biting the place he just kissed.

You struggle and twist in his grasp, but he holds fast, and you slump into him with a pained moan. Is he trying to fucking brand you? It sure feels like it.

When Ghost releases you, he turns you around with a hand on your bound wrists and then walks backward faster than you can keep up.

Then he sits on the bed as proudly as a king on a throne and beckons for you.

Without your arms free to help you balance, you stumble a few times, and Ghost watches you with a pleased glint in his gaze. That may be the point.

By the time you get to him, you’re thoroughly unbalanced. “Come on. Yeah, over my lap.” You kneel without complaint, too busy avoiding eating shit to consider resisting.

He helps you lower your torso with an arm placed below your collarbones and a hand flat on your stomach so you don’t face plant into the sheets.

“Are you going to-“ You feel him guide your hips up, encouraging you to place most of your weight on your face and shoulders.

Conveniently leaving your ass exposed. And- and he can see your dripping folds, see proof that you crave him.

He goes on as casually as if he were describing the weather. “Spank you? Yes, I am. A slag like you can’t see reason, obviously. Got to train it in ya.” You practically jump out of your skin when you feel him drag a finger along the inside of your thigh, tracing the rivulets of slick trickling from your pussy.

You feel like a thing, like putty in his hands that he can bat about and talk to like you’re not even there.

“Don’t act like you don’t fucking get off on this. Be honest. Or are you too stupid to do that?” Ghost asks as if he’s just remembered that you can answer questions.

You clench around nothing and desperately wish he’d take that finger playing with the sensitive skin of your thighs, and do something useful with it. “…I do.”

“There’s my needy girl.” He neatly fists a hand in your hair, somehow mindful that you won’t appreciate losing a few strands without you telling him.

His free hand caresses your ass, then up and down the backs of your thighs. You feel him grab one cheek tightly, grinding down with his fingers so he can see red marks bloom under his touch.

You jerk forward with a cry when he hits you the first time, though the hand in your hair keeps you from going very far. Ghost doesn’t spank you hard, more of a warning tap than anything.

The shock smarts more than the blow did. But you’re determined to show that you can, in fact, take a hit better than Langford, so you dig your knees in and psych yourself up for the next spank.

“Fuck is wrong with you?” His voice cracks like thunder, then he follows it with another spank.

This one hurts. Hot, hot pain radiates from the spot he hit, but your body wrenches with a different sensation as your body processes that pain as… well… pleasure.

When he spanks you again, he takes the time to force your head further down into the blankets. “Hm? Running your dumb fucking mouth, talkin’ all that big shit?” Ghost snaps at you.

Each time he spanks you, you cry out, your eyes roll back, and it hurts, and he keeps hitting the same spots, so even when he isn’t touching you, you’re sore. 

Another set of blows, each one harder than the last.

You gotta- you gotta tell him- you push back against his grip, and he lets you lift your head. “God, Ghost, please-“ Your voice is choked-up and pleading, mirroring your thighs trembling with want and your aroused, needy core that he’s fucking ignoring.

He slaps your ass again, this time right where your ass cheek meets your thigh, close but not close enough.

“Please, what? Please, what, doll? Come on. Dumb little doll doesn’t know how to talk?”

Your breaths are ragged, labored, you’re shivering and there’s so much pain that you can’t tell where it stops and where the want begins.

“Harder-“ You cut yourself off with a gasp when he does just that.

That one burns. That one feels like an open flame, like Ghost’s touch is burrowing into your muscles, down down down, like it will leave a lingering mark that you don’t want to fade.

He rubs over your heated skin, massaging away the worst of the soreness. “You’re welcome. Now listen to me,” Ghost speaks in a low, reassuring tone like he’s gentling a startled animal.

He notices the exact moment you get lost in the feeling, when you push back and fucking present yourself in the hopes that he’ll give you more.

Then he cracks his hand against your ass; the sound is louder than your answering shriek. “Listen. You are going to apologize for almost getting hurt. You’re going to mean it. You’re going to swear you’ll never get into a fight again.” Ghost tightens his hold on your hair and twists his wrist to push your face back into the bed, taking back the advantage he granted.

“Or what?” You won’t be able to sit comfortably for a week at least, the ache and the bruises forming have you strung out for the tiniest scrap of pleasure… but you did tell him you wouldn’t go easily.

“Or…” Ghost trails off slowly. Your scalp begins to tingle as his grip grows even tighter.

It’s so painful that you almost miss the two thick fingers he slips into your pussy. Almost.

“Fuck!” You keen, your mouth open as your nails dig into your palms.

He thrusts them into you slowly, lazily, totally unsympathetic to your pleading noises and your muscles quivering around his fingers as he drags them in and out of you.

Your cunt has to stretch to accommodate them, and he grinds into you each time he gets knuckle-deep. And then he holds your head down like you don’t get the privilege of looking at him… Your pussy clenches around him at the thought.

Eventually, Ghost stops moving at all, but you’re gone, you’ve been gone, and when you start fucking yourself on his hand, he lets you.

You can tell he’s rock hard, you can feel his dick through his jeans, but he has far more willpower than you could even imagine, and brushing up against it does nothing. “Oh- oh my god, fuck, that feels…” You pant as you chase the sweetness, chase the tension twisting up your guts that’s so close to boiling over, so close.

Your clit is aching, screaming for pressure, for stimulation, but he doesn’t grant it to you. You can only work your hips against his hand, over and over.

Your eyes close as you speed up, you’re whining, you’re gonna come any second, your cunt can’t stop twitching. “I’m so close, wait what-“

Ghost pulls his fingers out before you tip over the edge.

“Or you’re not coming tonight,” He informs you, and you can hear the stupid fucking grin in his stupid fucking voice.

When you try to protest, to get up and fucking bite him or some shit because that’s not fair, Ghost spanks you with the hand you soaked.

You’re sort of blissed-out, sort of pissed, and a lot horny. “I’m sorry-“ You start in the hopes that Ghost will fold and give you what you fucking want.

His mask rustles as he shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

Then he slides you off his lap like you weigh nothing so he can stand.

Ghost keeps you in the same position, head down, ass up, and nudges your thighs open a bit wider.

You can’t see him through any of this. That seems to be something he’s taking full advantage of. You can’t touch him, you have no idea what’s happening next.

The only clue you have that he’s taken his mask off again is when he puts his tongue on your sensitive, aroused clit.

(He really should just take the damn thing off more regularly. This is inconvenient, and it’s not like there’s anything under there that could make him less attractive.)

He laps at your swollen folds with his hands on your hips to steady you, and the thoughts melt straight out of your head and drool from the corner of your mouth.

You struggle against the belt in earnest this time, maybe you can loosen it enough to slip your hands out and get away from Ghost and his planned torment. As much as your body pleads to stay put, as much as you want to push yourself back and let him consume you, let him fuck you stupid with his tongue, you know it will end soon.

And he’s going to be fucking mean about it.

Ghost takes his breathing break as an opportunity to taunt you. “You’re not goin’ anywhere,” He promises, leaving handprint bruises on your thighs.

Your stomach churns as he sucks on your clit, like there’s a knife slicing through you, and it’s the hot, burning pleasure pulsing through your body.

You’re not sure you can hold yourself up any longer, your knees waver like you’re a baby deer, and oh God, you’re going to come again, you can feel the spasms in your cunt grow stronger and stronger.

The beginnings of your orgasm tremble through your muscles, so close that you can taste it, you feel it throbbing with every beat of your heart.

He keeps sucking, his wet mouth relentless and dragging you painfully to the edge of the cliff. “Ghost, please, please let me- Fuck!” You wail as he backs off. 

Tears well in your eyes as the tremors fade into nothing.

You get yourself upright before he can stop you. “Why are you being such a dick?” You blurt out, lurching forward on your knees like if you can get to him, you can do… something. You’re not sure what, other than that you want to kill him.

Ghost blinks a couple of times.

In the silence that follows, the deadly, threatening silence, you realize your mistake. “Just- just let me come, I’ll be good. I promise. Just wanna come.” You beg, you sit down and tilt your head up like a dog doing a trick, and you pray he gives you grace.

He gets his hand around your throat faster than a snake striking its prey. This time, Ghost squeezes the sides hard enough to make you see white lights. “I am being a dick,” He agrees congenially. “But that’s not what you need to say, is it?”

“…no,” You mumble.

The next thing you feel after he releases you is his palm meeting your cheek. Hard.

“Have I spoiled you that much? You think you can fuckin’ ignore me?” Ghost sounds so calm, so authoritative.

After the ringing in your ears clears, you’re proud to see that you’re still upright. “No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” You stretch your jaw a few times to release the ache from his slap.

He hunches over, puts his hands on his knees, and gets right in your face. “Oh, but you did,” Ghost whispers. 

There’s something about the fogginess clinging to your eyelashes and the inside of your ears and the folds of your brain that makes his skull mask seem more than real.

A hovering specter of exposed bone, hollow eye sockets with no end, and a gaping, horrifying maw.

You’re starting to understand why people call him Ghost and mean it.

Your mouth goes dry. “Please, I’m begging you,” You whimper, eyes round with awe and flustered blood rising in your cheeks.

He nods, and you swear there must be hearts in your eyes at his approval. “Mm. I like that. Beg again.”

“Ghost. Husband. I’ll be so good. Anything. I’ll do anything. I can’t take it, I need to come so badly.” You lean forward to touch your forehead to his, making yourself as obedient as possible. For the most part.

“That’s not an apology.” Then he sighs, long and drawn-out and aggravated. “Anything, you say?” Ghost asks.

“Y-yeah.”

“Alright. You can come…. When you promise not to fight. And you’re gonna wait until you do,” He tells you as he slips his hand between your slick thighs.

“No…” You moan. He’s doing it again, torturing you again, you just want to give up, you feel him play with your throbbing clit, and it hurts so good.

Ghost clamps a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to roll your hips against his hand. “Sounds like you weren’t listening. Now that makes me think you don’t care.” Shit. Shiiiiit. He pushes a single finger into you, and you collapse into him as you start to ride it, hips jerking unconsciously.

He laughs when he hears you squeal. “You’re just a mindless whore who’d let half the fuckin’ base run through you, aren’t ya?” He’s found your g-spot, he rubs the patch of ridged flesh inside your cunt over and over.

Sweat beads on the back of your neck and drips down your spine, your fucked-out gaze can hardly focus on him, you feel like you’re burning alive in your skin.

“Don’t even need me at this point…” He circles your clit one more time and your mouth hangs open and you want to beg, but you can’t focus-

Tears fall down your cheeks when he wipes his fingers on your heaving breasts.

“No, no, no, Ghost, I need you. I want you. No-nobody else. I do care, please, you’re the only one,” You sob into his chest, pushing your nose into the fabric of his hoodie because it’s soft and smells like him, warm and like home.

“Yeah?”

You feel him rub your back, then slip a few fingers between the belt and your wrists to test your comfort.

You nod without lifting your head. “I- I was- I’m listening, promise, I can’t- you gotta make me come, don’t want anybody else.” You’re so tired, so worn out. There’s a patch of dampness on his jacket from your weeping, and you let out little high-pitched whimpers like a neglected kitten.

He frees your hands in an instant. “If I gotta repeat myself, I’m gonna leave you here,” Ghost tells you, though his voice isn’t as mean as before.

Your arms cling to his neck as you nuzzle your face into the space below his sharp jaw. “Ghost. Don’t go.” The edge of his balaclava muffles your words, but you don’t have the strength to say them to him straight.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so stupid,” You sniffle before bringing a hand to your nose to wipe a little snot.

Ghost gently knocks your fingers away and replaces them with the edge of his sleeve, delicately cleaning the mucus from your upper lip.

Next, he dries your cheeks with the shadow-black fabric.

You protest when he unhooks your arms from his neck, and your hands scrabble for purchase in the hood of his jacket.

One soft look, his fingers brush your chafed wrists, and you let him lay you down. “Took you long enough,” Ghost quips as he unbuttons his pants and pulls out his dick, mouthwateringly hard and long. He pumps his cock a few times.

You’re in a daze, hovering in that raw space on the other side of crying but wanting him anyways, needing him more than anything.

“Spread your legs, love.”

Ghost leans in like he’s about to kiss you. Then he remembers his mask and changes his mind, having lifted it enough today.

He taps your sensitive clit with the fat head of his cock, and you suppress your shudders, how your legs automatically try to close and get away from the feeling. “I won’t do it again,” You tell him, voice breathless and sweet.

Once he’s coated in enough of your arousal, he keeps one hand flat on your pelvis as he pushes in. “Fuck- fuck, I…” You groan. There’s never any room in your body left for air when he fucks you. Never.

He’s so large that it hurts a little when he’s bottomed out, you can hardly twitch or clamp down like you desperately want because of how fucking full you are.

You can feel every inch of him, you’re on the brink of crying again because all of those denied orgasms are tearing at your insides, and your painfully aroused cunt screams that you can’t take it, that it’s too much, too good, he’s too big.

You have to be good. “Uh, I won’t fight, aah-“ That’s the only thing that gets you to say the words he wants through numb lips, especially when Ghost starts to thrust, and your pussy convulses around him each time.

He moves slowly, really slowly, shallow at first, your tits bouncing in time, and you’re crying out underneath him, so used to all that edging that you subdue your pleasure on instinct.

The slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out are loud and profane, filling the room more than your weak, almost pathetic whines do.

The solid, imposing weight of his body settles you down so you can enjoy his faster, harder pace, and his balls slap against your ass as he fucks you open. “Promise?” Ghost pants, his hands pressing your knees almost to your chest.

He’s looking for something. He moves your legs every few thrusts, opens you up a little more, tilts your pelvis up and-

When his dick catches on your g-spot, your tears cover your cheeks and trickle into your hair in earnest. “Yes, yes, shit, hngh- I promise…” You’re so wet that you can feel it dripping down to the bed and pooling under you, you feel that familiar pressure building, except this time it’s stronger, it’s got a stranglehold on you.

Every time the fly of his pants brushes your engorged clit, your eyes go large and you hiccup, unable to moan properly because it’s like electricity is coursing down your spine.

He kisses the side of your face before nailing that sensitive spot with terrifying, mind-breaking accuracy.

“Come on. You can do it,” Ghost groans, cursing under his breath when you squeeze him so tightly that he almost loses his grip on your thighs.

Oh. Oh. He wants- he’s trying to make you…

“I can’t, I don’t know how, I, I-“ You sob, the pleasure is so intense that you feel nauseous, he’s rutting into your body furiously, and you’re stuck on a horrible knife’s edge of needing to come or you’ll die, but it’s not happening.

He nudges your knee until you wrap one leg around his hips. “It’s alright, love. Let me help you. That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Ghost shushes you before slowing down so he can place his hand on your throat and restrict the blood rushing to your head.

Everything goes sweet and hazy, and you give him a cock-drunk smile in return, eyes rolling back and drool stuck to the corner of your lips.

Once you’re suitably pliant, he slides that hand between you and finds your aching clit. “Just focus on me.” He’s pressing his forehead to yours, you look into his dark, fathomless eyes ringed with pale lashes.

The coil tightens, and you arch into him, gasping and biting down on your lip so hard that you draw blood. 

“Ghost, fuck, can I-“ You beg, voice choked and strung out as his fingers move faster on your clit, circling it in tandem with his cock pounding you so deep that it feels like he never ends.

“Go on. Come for me. I know you can.” Ghost pinches your clit, and you come with a wail, thighs shaking, your cunt seizing and it fucking gushes out of you, you soak his jeans, you clamp down so tightly that he slips out.

He replaces his dick with three fingers slotted right on your g-spot, moving in quick, jerky thrusts to see you through it. “Holy fuck. Did you just…” He mutters as your eyes screw shut, and your nails snag his shoulders. 

You feel like you’re dying, you can’t stop fucking squirting, the waves grow and grow-

Your hips jerk for the last time, and you’re left a whimpering, quivering mess of oversensitive nerves, the last of the aftershocks still simmering in your muscles.

Ghost kisses your forehead as he carefully withdraws his fingers. “You’re too good to me,” He tells you with something like awe in his rough voice.

You slump to the bed, boneless and empty, not even giving a fuck that the sheets are all messy with sweat and… squirt?

That’s new, you think blearily. That kind of shit only happens in porn? Right?

Your head lolls to the side so you can watch him through lidded eyes.

He moves you out of the wet patch with one arm under your back and the other under your knees, then tucks himself back into his boxers.

“Wait… you didn’t- you didn’t come…” Your voice is fucked up and hoarse, and maybe you should give in to the overwhelming urge to sleep, but…

Did he not want to? You did everything he asked.

He shakes his head. “Nah. Don’t need to. You were perfect, you learned your lesson.” He splays a hand out on your stomach, luxuriating in your squishiness.

Your brow furrows. “Ghost…” Then you rub the sweat and crusted tears from your eyes and set your mouth in a mulish, determined line.

He watches you like a hawk. “Yeah?”

“Please? Fuck me?” You ask as you touch his forearm with a weak hand.

A beat passes. “You’re crying. And you drenched me, the bed too,” He tries to reason with you. You see him swallow harshly, you know he’s shifting where he sits because he’s given himself blue balls.

Your eyes flutter when the exhaustion almost gets you, but you power through it. “It’s okay. I- I’m tough. I want you to come.”

“Yeah. Alright… Tough girl.” Then Ghost reaches for your hips with all kinds of enthusiasm that tells you the truth.

It was sweet of him to try and be gallant. You’d rather he break you open and fill you up.

To be extra nice, you even hold your knees apart so he can push back in.

You’re not going to come again, you’re too fried for that, but it still feels… incredible. You’re glad for all the extra lubrication and that you can make him feel good.

Ghost fucks you with abandon, and deep, animalistic groans echo from his throat. “Shit- I could fuck you forever, you’re squeezin’ me so tight, fuckin-“ He grunts, head tilted back the tiniest bit and composure gone.

Breathe, you tell yourself, breathe. Do it for him.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Your swollen pussy spasms from the praise, constricting him so tight that he cries out. You just can’t help yourself when he says shit like that, especially when he’s making you ache in such an addictive way.

His hips move faster. “You like that? You like it when I tell you how good this fuckin’ pussy feels?” Yeah. Yeah, you do.

“Fuck, fuck fuck-“ You feel him orgasm, he paints your walls with his cum, then grinds those last few thrusts so deep that you cry out.

His pelvis bumps the backs of your thighs like he’s trying fuck his cum in as deep as it will go.

Ghost catches his breath as he softens inside you, panting as raggedly as you are.

He pulls out before dropping his chest harness to the side and unzipping his hoodie so he can clean you up.

You can’t stand the thought of anything touching anywhere near your beat the fuck up pussy right now, so you shove his hands away and drag Ghost down to snuggle.

Of course, he obliges you and helps you rest your head on his shoulder as you curl into his muscular frame like a little bug.

“What happens if the fight comes to me?” You ask. 

He’s running a hand up and down your spine, soft touches to bring you back to earth in a gentle, comforting way.

His hand stops until you kick his shin, gently, then he starts up again. “You run,” Ghost says.

“What happens if I can’t run?” You press your cheek into his t-shirt, so close that you can feel the heat of his skin through it. And a little rhythm that must be his heartbeat.

Next, Ghost threads his fingers through your sweaty, messy hair and attentively smooths it away from your face. “You call me. I’ll come get you. Every time.”

-

Hope y'all liked this one! Next chapter will be super soft/sweet/fluffy with lots of caretaking, I promise.

Tagging:

@abbiesxox @thedevillovesflowers @poohkie90 @averyyreads @lialacleaf @backupgal @kitty-satan1 @androgynoushellscape @555ilovecats @pinkwigonmytv @almightywdm @discowizard88 @castielsangelsx @jaymicrosoft @rengokulover96 @copiasratscheese @fluffysmiko @d3athtr4psworld @idesofarch @teenagegever2k22 @badame0224 @toilet-paper-headbands @itsrosebabe @bangirl134 @silverianni @nezukos-number1fan @deadpoetsandhoney @crowsjourney @vanevafu @xxghostyx @rafaelacallinybbay @akaotv @chibijusstuff @wasteland-babe @anubiseqq @lilpothoscuttings @soapyghost @maliceex59 @valdemarismynonbinarylove

#heartless #cod #call of duty #modern warfare #mw #modern warfare 2 #mw2 #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod modern warfare 2 #call of duty mw #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #simon riley #ghost #ghost riley #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost mwii #ghost mw #lieutenant riley

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug - Final Chapter - Series

Summary: Since joining the team, Wanda Maximoff has captured all of your attention, even if she has no idea about this. In a six-part story, you'll do your best to give her everything she needs and maybe she never thought she deserved it. Along the way, you two might end up realizing you were in love with each other the whole time.

Warnings: (+18), Friends to lovers, smut in the last few chapters, slow burn, conversations about self-love and individual worth, mentions of anxiety, past trauma, avengers being a family, canon-fix, a lot of magic. Words: 6.877k

General Masterlist || Series Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad

--//--

Chapter Six - Wanda Maximoff needs witchcraft

Soft, breathless giggles echoed around the room as you and Wanda fell exhausted side by side on the rumpled sheets.

You both smelled a mixture of sweat, pleasure, and soap, and if anyone asked, it was perfect. While you had one arm over your face, trying to normalize your breathing as the girl next to you, Wanda slipped her arm over your bare waist.

"That was..." She started softer now, once you both had calmed down.

"Rushed." You completed with a chuckle that she mimicked. Extending her other palm above your chest, she rested her chin on her hand to look at you.

"Definitely rushed." She murmured, and you moved your arm away and open your eyes to her. "But good."

With a raised eyebrow in teasing, you questioned, "Just good?"

She chuckles, biting her lips. "What was I supposed to say? It was good." She retorts in the same tone, finding it hard not to giggle at your falsely offended expression. "It was good when you kissed me and used your fingers. When you used your tongue, it was better." She comments, leaning in close, lips meeting yours. "And when you used both..." She doesn't finish, her tongue on the roof of her mouth as she pulls away again, and leaves you with a soft sigh.

"God, you're such a tease." You complain, watching her adjust to sitting on top of your waist. Her expression of pure mischief makes you look at her curiously, trying not to focus too much on her breasts covered only by her brown hair cascading down her torso.

"Did you know that it was better than I expected?" She declares then, her hands moving lightly to entwine yours, guiding them to her waist. You hum, not knowing where to put your attention. There was so much skin to see, and you just wanted to learn every inch of her body.

"Oh, I didn't know." You retort in the same tone. "I'm happy to exceed your expectations, little witch."

Wanda chuckles softly, now that your hands are on her waist, she brings hers to your face, to hold your cheeks as she leans in and kisses you briefly.

"You were perfect, everything was perfect." She whispers and you sigh softly.

"I thought you said it was rushed." You tease, and she smiles, kissing your jaw.

"It was, but we needed that." She explains, and you close your eyes to better enjoy the feel of her lips on your skin. Wanda also begins to rub against you, and the friction without clothes on the way sends a delicious shiver through your body. "To feel each other after so long."

"I quite agree, darling." You retort completely distracted now - All your attention is on Wanda's movements against you, slowly grinding your intimacies together. She gasps with each thrust and you firm your hands on her waist just enough to mark her skin, tearing out a deep moan as you take control of her movements. 

"Fuck, Wands." You grunt as your orgasm builds, each movement of your clits together bringing a new wave of pleasure to your body. Shuddering, Wanda loses the ability to remain upright, her hands digging into your torso for support as she rocks her hips against yours and the movements grow more erratic. 

"Ah, baby-just like that." She leans in to kiss you, mingling your moans as the climax approaches. It doesn't take long for Wanda to go rigid on top of you, a loud groan signaling that she came, shortly after taking you with her. Your juices mingle on your thighs, but you're busy spinning her around on the bed, kissing her with intensity. Ready to start over.

Knocks on the door interrupt your intentions.

Sharing a grumble of dissatisfaction, you kiss Wanda one last, long time before covering yourself with a blanket as you rise from the bed.

As soon as you close the door again, Wanda adjusts herself on the sheets to face you.

"Duty calls, darling." You tell her with a soft grimace. "'Post-battle team meeting. Serious stuff." You say, even as you are leaning over to return to your previous position on top of her. 

Wanda grins, raising an eyebrow at you while her fingers wander over your collarbone, her body shuddering as she feels your thigh firm up between her legs. "Aren't we supposed to join in?"

"Oh, I just told Rogers we quit the team." You retort with a casual tone, drawing a giggle from the girl below you. 

She would have insisted, but you went back to lowering your mouth over her body and Wanda wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now.

–//–

A gentle tickle slowly drew you out of your sleep. When a giggle made itself present in your ears, you smiled too, relaxing under Wanda's attention.

"Were you watching me sleep, stalker?" You ask in a husky sleepy voice, still with your eyes closed. Wanda brings her fingers to the hair on the back of your neck, a delicious caress that almost makes you fall asleep again.

"Yeah, you're too beautiful not to stare." She replies reassuringly, making you blush and grunt in embarrassment, hiding your face deeper into your pillow. She chuckles at the reaction. "You fucked me to sleep and now you're going shy on me?" She teases against your ear, and you chuckle lightly, adjusting to grab her by the waist and use her breasts as a pillow. Wanda giggles but doesn't reject the action. "Someone gets cuddly after sex..."

You chuckle through your nose, biting her breast softly and pulling out a surprised yelp. "I just missed my little witch." You clarify in a whisper, hugging her and Wanda bites back a smile, her cheeks rosy. 

Her hand plays with your hair, and you guys stay like that for a good few minutes.

It is you who breaks the silence first, adjusting your face over Wanda's torso.

"I won our bet." You say, receiving a raised eyebrow in curiosity. You lick your lips, suddenly becoming more serious and worrying the girl below you.

"What did you learn?" She asks attentive to your reactions, and you sigh before getting up, which only adds to Wanda's anxiety.

As you search for a towel and clean clothes, you speak again.

"Well, everything I guess. About home and my family." You say, swallowing dryly. Looking back, you find Wanda covering herself with the sheet as you sit on the bed, and you sigh. "God, I wish I could stay in this moment forever."

She smiles warmly, reciprocating the kiss you lean in to give her before pulling away again.

"It's okay, baby." She assures you with a gentle tone. "We need to get back to the real world, but at least we do it together." You nodded with a smile but seemed a little hesitant. Wanda began to grow uneasy. "Talk to me, sweetheart."

With the request, you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. Leaving the new change of clothes, you returned to the bed and sat down next to Wanda, your face turned forward, staring at your own lap. The woman beside you reached out for your hand, encouraging you to speak.

"I just don't know how to begin, Wands. Finding the right way to pour out my family's entire history all at once."

She played with her fingers, thoughtful for a moment.

"Want to talk about it over breakfast?" she suggested drawing your attention to her. At your expression, Wanda chuckles lightly. "You always function better when you're not starving."

With a raised eyebrow, you retort, "How do you know I'm hungry?"

She giggles, leaning in to kiss you again, and again until you're both breaking into a breathless sigh.

"Okay, no more kissing like that." Wanda tries to ration, not resisting even a little when you move your lips up her jaw and down. "Or like this... hmm, baby, you're distracting me." She tries in a hard sigh, feeling the teasing bites against her already erect nipples. "I thought you wanted to talk." She tries last in a raspy voice and you sigh before putting a little distance between you again.

"Yeah, we have to, Wan." You agree, placing one last kiss on her stomach before pulling away completely with a leap off the bed. She bites her lip from the lack of contact, but you turn your face away with a mischievous grin. "'Wanna join me in the shower?"

She races you to the bathroom.

–//–

Telling Wanda about what happened between Odin and Hela and some of the Asgard war is the easy part. Your father, also an Asgardian, was just a warrior who went to Niflheim after the Banished Goddess with the intention of freeing her and came out of there with a baby in his arms - A child that Odin saved from the frozen Hell that was that world. 

You told Wanda everything you had discovered in months of researching both the libraries around the Realms and listening to stories of warriors and spirits, especially the souls of Niflheim who kept secrets that neither Thor nor Loki knew about.

Explain to her how by Asgardian laws you should have been killed at birth, but Odin intervened and sent you to earth to guard the Space Stone he entrusted to humans, and how he never sought you out because your existence would expose what he did to Hella - That was easy.

Telling Wanda how your witch nature by Frigga allowed you to see things you didn't before was not.

You told her how after finding out about your mother, you sought her out in another dimension. As a Goddess, even a minor one, Hela could not die. She would always be with you, but after Ragnarok, you inherited both her strength and her responsibilities.

Wanda frowned in concern at the latter, and you were quick to hold her hand.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise." You assured with a smile. "There is no Asgard to rule anymore, and even if there was, I am literally the last in line to the throne." You joke, but Wanda can't give you more than a small smile.

"If you are the Goddess of Death now, shouldn't you rule Niflheim like her?"

You deny it with your head. "No, I can stay here." You insist. "The Realm has the guards and warriors. I will have - I do have, functions, of course. I will not lie to you, Wanda. It is different now. Sometimes spirits or creatures will need me. It's like a new world, hidden from the rest of the people, that opens up to me. I have work, but you have to understand that this, you, will always be my priority."

She smiles, half tearful, trying to believe you're not going anywhere. You leave the chair at the breakfast table to kneel in front of her.

"There's something else." You continue as you swallow dryly. "As a goddess now, I can see things I didn't before. Like other entities. Feel them and their magic."

Wanda shifted in her chair, staring at you as she frowned in attention to your serious tone. You sighed. 

"I learned many things, of which we will have time to talk about but I... well, Hela told me legends about Midgard-Earth." You correct yourself half nervously. Wanda brings a hand to your cheek.

"'Sweetheart, what is it? You seem so jumpy."

You sigh, holding her hand on your cheek. "I learned everything I could about the witches here, Wan. Not only did Hela know about them, but Frigga mostly. Everything she had about it, I was able to retrieve it in a different dimension. Like a version of a past undestroyed Asgard, a whisper in space-time that I was able to visit because of the abilities the stone offered me." You recount, smiling at the way Wanda twitches her nose at the information. You chuckle, "I know, I'm quite more powerful than before."

She chuckles, her legs settling at the side of your body "As if you weren't cocky enough." She teases, getting a weak laugh before you continue.

"I can find and feel every witch on earth now, Wan." You declare, releasing her hand to rest yours on her thighs. Wanda has no time to be impressed. "None of them are like you."

She makes a soft grimace. "What's that supposed to mean?"

You sigh. "You... You're different. Your magic." You nervously try to find the right way to say it. "You see, minor gods, they come from major gods, who come from the first gods that descend from entities beyond human comprehension. They're almost concepts, that dictate everything that composes the universes. Pretty theological, but anyway." You take a deep breath. "Asgardians are minor gods, and witches, in all variations from Earthly and Asgardian have their magic inherited from some such god. Frigga was a witch descended from Hecate, but Hela was a dark sorceress. The first black magician was Chthon, the God of Chaos."

Wanda made a slightly confused expression, "That's quite a lot, darling..."

"I know, I just..." You hold up your hands, taking a deep breath. "The most important thing for you to know is about Chthon, Wan. He's an Elder God of the Earth, father of demons, and almost all creatures of darkness. And I... I feel his magic in you."

Wanda snorts incredulously and confused, but noticing your look she grimaces. "W-what? That doesn't sound like a good thing."

You swallow dryly and shake your head. "There is a prophecy, present in all realms, all worlds." You continue. "A witch baptized by the god of Chaos with his elder magic. Destined to either rule the multiverse, or destroy it."

Wanda gets up from her chair at once, overwhelmed with so much information. She circles around the room, muttering that this was ridiculous and impossible, a bedtime scary story, arguing that her powers come from the stone and that until recently she could barely control them properly. How she didn't feel like the ruler of anything, and more importantly, how she didn't want it. 

Suddenly and with tears in her eyes, she is staring at you again.

"What does this mean for us?"

You feel your heart miss a beat for the clear desperation contained in her sentence. "Oh, sweetheart, whatever you wish." You say as you stand up and approach her, holding her face between both hands. "I come all this way to tell you that you are the most powerful witch in the universe and you're worried if that changes anything between us? It doesn't, Wands. I'm with you for as long as you want me."

She sniffles and hugs you tightly, burying her face in your chest. You relax immediately, one hand around her and the other in her hair.

"I love you." She confesses muffled, surely hearing every wrong beat of your heart, because you feel her smile. You hug her a little tighter. "You love me too, don't you?"

You don't have to say it, Wanda knows. She feels in every word or glances you two have ever shared, everything you've ever done for her.

With a deep sigh, you close your eyes and relax into the embrace. "I love you more than anything."

For a long moment, you just stand there, hugging each other. It is Wanda who squeezes one last time before letting go, her face slightly wet with tears that you kiss away.

"Tell me what changes now."  She asks low and you sigh before kissing her forehead, your hands on her shoulders.

"Everything and nothing at all." You retort enigmatically, receiving a soft grimace that you brush off with gentle kisses until Wanda chuckles stubbornly. "I can find you a coven now if you'd like to join one."

She stares at you in surprise and is silent as she thinks. You just wait. "B-but then I would have to leave the Avengers."

You smile sadly. "Only if you wish, Wands, but I get the impression that once you connect with that part of yourself, the magical life, there will be no room for this job." You tell her, and Wanda wants to stubbornly insist that that place is like home now, that the team is her family, finally after all this time. But she knows you are right just from the way you spoke to her. "They will always be our friends, our family. But there is a part of our life that they can't belong to."

"Can't I have both?"

You chuckle, brushing your lips over her jaw, tracing kisses all over the length of it. "Oh, darling, you're probably the only being with the power to have everything you ever desire." There was a pride, darkness behind those words that made Wanda shiver - Or maybe it was the kiss just behind her ear. One of her hands held the bar of your shirt for some support, but as your lips teased her skin, it was hard to keep her eyes open. 

"Yes?" She asks in a whisper, falling for the temptation of possibilities for a moment. 

You hum in agreement, your lips firmer now until they marked her skin, making her sigh. Your hands began to work on the lace of the shorts she was wearing, but Wanda managed for a moment, to focus on what she was told. And come to the conclusion that when she thinks about what she wants, she only sees your face. 

You gasp in surprise when Wanda suddenly pushes you back in your chair, but fall silent when she straddles your lap. Your hands go around her immediately, and she kisses you deeply, drawing out a low moan when she bites and pulls on your lower lip as she parts, her hips sensually wriggling against yours.

"I want you to be mine forever." She whispers, letting you explore her entire torso with your mouth, affected sighs being your favorite incentive. "My friend, my detka, my wife..."

You groan aroused, moving up to kiss her on the mouth. Wanda corresponds with the same intensity, feeling the fabric begin to bother her from the growing moisture between her legs. 

Surrendering to the full lust, you move one hand to the front of Wanda's shorts, reaching past the fabric and without delay, sinking your fingers inside her. She retorted with a satisfied moan, hugging you by the neck.

"I can't wait to marry you, little witch." You whispered in her ear, your fingers thrusting inside her with precision, making her whimper. "I will wake you up with my tongue every morning... Fuck to sleep every night... end every movie night inside you. Just like I always wanted."

Wanda bit her shoulder to muffle the loud moan as you fingered that sweet spot inside her, and kept hitting it until she began to squirm - The firm hand on her waist keeping her from going anywhere.

Not that Wanda wanted it any different.

–//–

Saying goodbye, no, see you later to the Avengers was a bittersweet feeling.

Of course, it was painful to say farewell to the home she built alongside them, but the promise of understanding what she was and having a life by your side was everything Wanda wanted most.

After the post-battle pendencies with Wakanda, you and Wanda left the country on a trip through Europe.

Your ability to sense the witches did not mean that they would let themselves be found easily.

But eventually, among inns and hotels, enchantments, and other magical bars and stores hidden in plain sight, you finally found a real clue.

Witches protected themselves, that was clear. But there was one Coven that frightened all the others. One more powerful and more dangerous than any old witch community in Salem, South Africa, or Brazil.

The first time you heard the title Chaos in the name, you and Wanda already knew that this was what you were looking for.

It took a few more weeks to finally find a witch willing to talk about her own coven, not because she trusted you, but because she had witnessed Wanda use magic and just as you could sense Chthon, so could she.

Wanda was intimidated to have an unknown witch kneeling at her feet. You were jealous.

"You know, that's usually my spot-"

"Detka!" Wanda slapped you on the shoulder, her face bright scarlet. She touched the witch's shoulder too, gently pulling her upright. "Excuse my girlfriend, please, she has Asgardian manners. Please don't get down on your knees as well. I'm not... that kind of witch."

The witch seemed even more shocked to have been touched. 

"It is an honor to be in the presence of the Priestess of Chaos." She made a slightly bowed reference, and you crossed your arms, watching the scene with a smirk. "Forgive me for not recognizing you immediately, my lady. Your power is so great that Chaos remains hidden within you."

Wanda tilts her head in curiosity. "How could you, though? Recognize me?"

Still with her head bowed in respect, the witch replies:

"The spell you used to conjure the food, your holiness. It is the sacred magic of Chaos."

You and Wanda exchanged a look. "Ow, I didn't know..." She tries to find the right words, feeling silly at the surprised look on the other witch's face. "I just assumed that Chaos was different. More, I don't know, pompous than a drinking glass. I've been making food for a long time, I didn't know it was part of the whole thing."

The witch looked between you with an indecipherable expression, before swallowing dryly. "F- forgive my words, your holiness, but, are you an uneducated witch?"

With half-pink cheeks, Wanda babbles, "I-I went to school!"

The witch chuckles but immediately restrains herself, shaking her head. 

"Forgive me, I just...I've never met an uneducated witch before. As old as you are." She says, and Wanda snorts indignantly. You hold back your laughter. Realizing what she said, the girl shakes her head, embarrassed. "I-I meant older, ma'am! Witches are called by the coven in their teens, no later than 18. Of course, you're not old, and well, mortals have a bad impression of age anyway, to the creatures of darkness the longer you've been on earth the more powerful you are..."

"Please." It is you who cuts in, stepping forward to stand side by side with Wanda. Unlike the look of adoration your girlfriend received, you receive one of distrust. But you are not intimidated. "We need help. Can you help us?"

The witch shifts her gaze to Wanda, smiling gently.

"It will be an honor to serve the Priestess of Chaos. Your coven puts itself at your disposal, my lady, we are blessed with this encounter."

She bows again and Wanda holds her up before she can drop to her knees again. "Cool, thank you, really. About this Coven, can we meet the others? I have a dozen questions."

The witch nodded, moving away to enter deeper into the alley near the empty street where you were - The side outside the Bar where the clue took you.

You and Wanda held hands before following her inside.

–//–

A dimly lit hall of an old house filled with witches of all ages and ethnicities makes Wanda a little anxious. Your hand-drawing patterns on hers help keep her grounded, but she is aware of the stares in your direction while the notorious Chaos Coven decides on the request for help.

As if the witches weren't enough, the walls seemed to be covered with magic as well. Wanda felt her skin prickle in there, her senses on alert. And when you hid your face in her collarbone, she realizes that you must have been far more overwhelmed by the whole thing than she was.

"That's enough." She announced loudly to the hall then, feeling the weak squeeze you gave her blouse. 

All the whispering stopped at once, the witches looking at her in attention.

Wanda nodded to the only one she knew there - The girl who brought you two there, and she took the cue to you to sit you down in one of the armchairs. You went a little begrudgingly, but you obeyed.

In the center of the room, Wanda pushed the nervousness of the attention away and lifted her chin.

"As Chaos Sacedortist, I demand an immediate response."

The hall remained in a now tense silence, witches exchanging glances with each other. Wanda ignored the discomfort that unfamiliarity in this role of authority caused her, and kept her face impassive. But to her surprise, it wasn't disrespectful hesitation that surrounded those witches - it was fear.

None of the witches spoke up for a long moment, and Wanda sighed in frustration. Before she could demand again and lose some of the credit, someone emerged from the shadows, cursing at whoever was present.

"Incompetent old hags, all of you! Where is she? Where-"

The witch fell silent as soon as she laid eyes on her. She was years older, a dark hair and a purple outfit. The gentle smile did not reach her eyes, and something about her aura made Wanda cringe.

"My, my, it really true." Said the woman amazed, approaching Wanda who stood static, trying not to show any hesitation. "The Scarlet Witch herself."

Wanda frowned at the nickname, but did not retort. It was only when the woman tried to touch her that she pulled away.

"Who are you?" she demanded seriously, but the woman kept smiling in that wicked sort of way.

"The name is Agatha Harkness, dear." She said as she offered her hand to Wanda. "It's a pleasure."

Instead of accepting the gesture, Wanda looked around. A few witches were whispering among themselves, but she realized that a good portion of them simply disappeared.

"Where did they go?" She asked with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Agatha thought it was funny. "Oh, sweetie, they were never here." She replied, receiving a confused expression back. Laughing, the older witch turned and waved into the room, causing all the candles to flare up at once. With the light, Wanda noticed the lack of clarity in the figures. "See, most of them were just projecting. Some are just whispers, former colleagues who have already left this world but love some old magical gossip. And believe me, you and your pet goddess have caused quite a stir in the last few hours with this whole Chaos Priestess thing."

Wanda locked her jaw. "Don't call her that."

Agatha tilted her head, studying her as something very impressive that at the same time, she seemed willing to hurt.

"Interesting choice of partner, Miss Maximoff." She continued, circling Wanda who grows tense and alert with every second. "Most witches prefer their own kind, but I imagine for the goddess of chaos, another goddess would fit the role better."

Unlike the other witch, Agatha seemed to mock Wanda and any titles she might possess. 

Taking a deep breath, the younger woman tried to remain calm.

"Is that what I am, then? Goddess of Chaos?"

The question causes Agatha to pause, and then laugh macabrely. "Oh, of course. An uneducated witch. That's honestly perfect." Wanda was ready to retort at the return of the nickname, but Agatha moved closer, grabbing her by the chin. She tensed at once, ready to defend herself but something in the purple irises in front of her made her hesitate. "You are everything, Wanda Maximoff. The whole reason the chaos worshippers exist. The Scarlet Witch, the Emperor of Magic, the Goddess of Chaos..." Agatha's grip didn't hurt, and her words pulled Wanda into something dark that she didn't recognize but could feel in herself as well. "It is more than an honor to be in your presence. It's heavenly luck to exist at the same place in time as you."

Wanda swallowed dryly and pulled her face away as she turned. Agatha licked her lips, and still staring at her as if studying her, continued:

"How did you find us?"

Wanda crossed her arms, feeling uncomfortable about the whole thing. She looked at you, eyes closed on the couch, and nodded. Agatha chuckled dryly.

"Of course." She muttered wryly. "We love an obedient pet."

The energy attack caused Agatha to be pushed backward. Although surprised, she didn't fall or look injured. Wanda glared at her.

"Don't call her that." She warns as a last time. "She is my wife."

Agatha adjusts her hair, completely casual about the attack. "I don't see a ring." She teases, and Wanda grunts in irritation, then before she can be attacked again, Agatha laughs and raises her hands in defeat. "I'm just teasing, you're too easy."

Impatient, Wanda glares at her, "Tell me at once if you're going to help or not."

"Well, even if I refused, you could force me..." Teases the witch as she goes around her again. "You could force anyone to do whatever you want." She whispers in her ear as she stands behind her, but Wanda turns away, bothered. Agatha laughs, "You're different than I expected. Especially for someone who dates the goddess of death. How can you be bothered by what your power will give you?"

Wanda shifts uncomfortably. "I just want to understand what I am." She says. "I never wanted...the whole ruler thing. I just want a simple, decent life with Y/N."

Agatha sighs impatiently, disappointed. She rolls her eyes with almost contempt. "Holy god of chaos, why do you test my patience." She mumbles to herself. "Of course the only Scarlet Witch I've met in all these years on this earth would be someone so foolish as to choose something as pathetic as teenage love over the greatest power in the universe."

But Wanda turned her back on the older witch and her whining, approaching you with concern.

"Hey, baby, how are you feeling?" She called out and you opened your eyes, startling her with the darkness of your irises. "Y/N?"

As if waking from a very deep sleep, your eyes focused on her slowly, a hoarse laugh escaping. "Shit, Wan, sorry, I think..." A yawn interrupted you. "I've fallen asleep."

She smiled at how cute you were now, completely clueless as to what was going on. "Yeah, you've overwhelmed yourself with the atmosphere here. There's too much dark magic, I reckon."

With one last yawn, you forced yourself awake, using your magic to do so. The stranger's presence made you tense.

"Who is-

"I knew your mother." Agatha interrupts looking at you intently. "Nasty sorceress, she was. She guarded one of the greatest beauties of all the seven Asgardian realms."

You grimaced." Did you just flirt with my dead mother?"

Agatha chuckled, approaching you and extending her hand for you to shake as she introduced herself. Half uncertain, you shook it quickly. 

Wanda sighed impatiently. "Agatha, give us an answer now or we're leaving."

The older witch smiled, bowing slightly to Wanda. 

"I am at your service, Scarlet Witch."

Your question about the title received only a light 'i have no idea but don't encourage her' nod from your girlfriend. 

Wanda was struggling, but she looked as exhausted as you, and now properly awake, you noticed.

"Is there somewhere we can rest around here? It's been a long trip, Miss Harkness."

Agatha nods. "This place is just an illusion, forgive my sisters' distrust, we are all traitors of evil character." She replies calmly as she shifts her gaze to the crestfallen figure in a sign of respect so far.  "Go back to your world, Marnie, your presence is no longer needed here, child."

The smaller witch raised eyes - now purple irises - at you all. 

"Are you sure, Miss Harkness?"

With a forced smile, the witch nodded. "Yes, little one, finding a Scarlet Witch pays any debt. Go."

The witch retreated into the shadows and stepped out of the room. When you could no longer feel her magic, you understood that she was no longer in that world either.

"How do you-"

Your question was cut off with a hand raised in the air. Agatha gasped, and before you could take any offense for being interrupted, the candles in the room went out and increased the darkness around all at once. Wanda held onto your arm, tense as you were at the lack of visibility, but it wasn't long before the light gradually returned and the atmosphere was different from before.

The room was large and tidy now, a wooden cottage. 

A witch's hut.

"Welcome to the Harkness Residence, my home." Agatha announces as she removes the cloak from her costume, tossing it into the air and not surprising you that the garment floats out to the nearest support. "I often host guests here, so don't be alarmed by strangers around. Your room is 666, on the 6th floor. To the right is the elevator. Don't worry about noise, there are spells in every room." The wink she offered you and Wanda made you both blush in embarrassment.

She moved into what looked like a kitchen, and you and Wanda immediately assumed that the whole house was bewitched to be much larger inside because it had the pattern of an English cottage. 

Following her clumsily, you spoke first.

"Agatha, we have questions-"

"Which will be answered in due course, dear." She cuts in casually, kitchen items that are clearly going to brew some tea float around her. "You two need to rest now. Don't worry, I'll be here when you wake up."

Exchanging a look with Wanda, you sigh and thank Agatha for her hospitality. With your hand on Wanda’s, you guide the way up the stairs.

–//–

You don't even bother to change out of your travel clothes, both of you exhausted, fall into bed as soon as you have a clear sense of the room.

Shoes on the doorstep, Wanda settles into your embrace, eyes closing instinctively as she rests her head against your chest.

You don't feel very comfortable at the Harkness residence - the magical signature is strong, messing up your senses. The way you remain tense in bed makes Wanda start playing with the buttons of your shirt.

"You worried me earlier." She murmurs, taking a moment to meet your gaze. You swallow dryly, and face her back. "With the whole blacking out on me thing."

You pull a few loose strands from the front of her face, tugging them behind her ear. "Forgive me."

Wanda twitches her nose softly. "Don't be silly, it wasn't your fault." She smiles, leans in to brush her lips against yours, and ends up giving you a long kiss that immediately relaxes you. With her face close, she glares at you at slow blinks, as if she's memorizing you beyond her own exhaustion. "If anything, I am the one who should apologize for forgetting the whole enhanced thing and dragging you with me to a magical den."

You chuckle softly at the nickname, setting a hand on her back and drawing circles as Wanda adjusts her chin over the hand she placed on your chest. 

"I would never let you do that alone." You comment with a sleepy sigh, closing your eyes but continuing with your caresses. "I'll always be here for you."

A pause, your breathing growing heavier as she absorbs your words.

"Detka?" Wanda calls out to you because you have suddenly fallen asleep on her. She sighs, moving closer to kiss you one last time. You smile even as you fall asleep, warming the heart of the witch on top of you. Wanda swallows dryly and adjusts herself to be at your ear height. "Marry me."

You sigh, deep in your sleep, your hand around her waist remaining tight. Wanda lets out a shaky breath, repeating to herself that she would have the courage to ask you that when you are awake.

Someday she will.

–//–

Just the mere presence of the book made your skin prickle, like a sixth sense of danger. But unlike being in battle, feeling enemies looking for you, the darkhold had a dark attraction with the magic circulating in your atoms - an invitation to fall into temptation.

Agatha was explaining to you and Wanda about the book. It was the fourth week at the Harkness Residence, and after studying enough about the basics of magic in general, the housekeeper thought Wanda was ready to delve into the only book that contained teachings about chaos.

But neither you nor Wanda seemed to be paying much attention.

"He calls for me."  Wanda interrupted the older witch's monologue; who had already noticed the distraction and didn't mind. With the feeling put into words by someone else, you cleared your throat and looked away, almost embarrassed. "Agatha, be honest about this."

The witch huffed in false indignation. "I am always honest."

At the younger girl's rolling of her eyes, she laughs and steps forward, her hands in the pockets of her casual clothes. "It's not good news, I'm afraid, Wanda. It's the book of the damned, and you, dear, are a delicious meal."

"Gross." Wanda retorts with a grimace, but the rivalry discussion is interrupted when you stand up and walk out as if you were about to vomit. 

Wanda exchanges a quick glance with Agatha before running after you, finding you in the kitchen sipping a long glass of water.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

You pant slightly as you finish, relaxing your muscles. Taking a deep breath, you lean on the sink as you face Wanda, not meeting her gaze for long.

"Maybe it's not such a good idea to read that book." You state and she makes a confused face. Swallowing dryly, you clarify, "Wan, I saw a lot when in my studies. And there are forms of evil, which surpass anything we have on earth. Malice, cruelty in its most primal form. Some things, some choices... cannot be undone, Wan." You say seriously, shifting your gaze to the ground. "It's like a mark on your soul, when you do some kind of magic or when you commit some kind of crime."

Wanda approaches carefully, concerned about your tension. "What exactly are you talking about?"

You sigh in frustration. "I don't know, I just... It's like when you kill someone for the first time." You declare suddenly, completely surprising her. With a dry laugh, you look away, embarrassed. "Yeah, I know I never talk about it, but it's the truth, right? All of us avengers have killed at some point. Indirectly or not. And learning about gods, and divine judgment changes your perception. When I was in Niflheim, the ice... reflected me as I really am. A murderer."

"Don't talk about yourself like that." Wanda says seriously, moving to hold your face. "You had no choice-"

"It doesn't matter." You interrupt gently, holding her hands on your cheeks. "I did it. I took lives. It doesn't matter whether I chose to or not. It's stained upon my soul for all eternity."

Wanda swallows dryly, her gaze trying to make you feel a little better. But you lick your lips and hold her wrists, caressing her skin. "Y/N..."

"If you read that book, it will mark you, Wands." You state then, facing her seriously. "Not only that, it will doom you. It is what it is. Thousands of years of impure, dark knowledge within those pages. And endless damned souls trying to pull any reader into his domain."

"But Chthon gave me-"

"Your magic, I know." You cut off sadly, one hand releasing hers to go to her back. The other was on her arm, caressing her skin. "Agatha likes to say it is a blessing, a privilege to be chosen. And I need you not to hate any part of yourself, Wanda, but... I'm scared." You confess to her, resting your forehead on hers. "I met damned souls in Niflheim. I never want that to happen to you."

"It won't." She assures you confidently but sees that you remain unsure. So she holds your face again, waiting for you to look her in the eye. "Detka, I will never belong to  Chthon. I am only yours."

You give a small smile at the teasing, brushing your nose against hers. "Don't charm your way out of this conversation."

She chuckles before kissing you, slowly and passionately until you pant against her mouth and Wanda thinks you'd better stop or she won't study at all this morning.

"Do you trust me?" She asks even though she knows the answer. You firm your hands around her, kissing the tip of her nose.

"With my life."

She smiles, one hand caressing her cheek. "You will never lose me, detka. I promise."

You kiss her again, and again until Agatha complains from the living room. Grinning, you squeeze Wanda's ass hard in farewell, drawing an affected grunt from the witch.

Wanda left first and in the empty kitchen, you took a deep breath, wishing with all your heart that your promises were strong and true enough until the bad feeling about Agatha's intentions and the Darkhold left your mind. Wanda was all that mattered anyway.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff needs a hug

[atinylittlepain]

Of Saints and Sinners - Chapter 4

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

masterlist

warnings | 18+ dark themes, angst, canon-typical violence

a/n | this one is tough, y'all. we find out how our girl got all those scars...

It’s been five days since the men left Jackson. There’s been no sign of anything, no clickers, no bandits. They’ve made it through the mountain pass and are left in the eerie silence of the crumbling highway, on the edge of Idaho crossing into Oregon. Steve has taken some of the steel out of his attitude, becoming at least civil with Joel. Alex is much kinder, much more open, and he and Joel often make decent conversation.

Alex and Steve have both been slowly providing Joel with information about her, about this group called the Washington Liberation Front. A militia that was able to overthrow FEDRA, claiming Seattle first as its own and slowly spreading outposts across the state of Washington. Way before that happened, when everything went down, she had been at Whitman College, quickly shuttled into the Seattle QZ. Steve had shared a freshman seminar class with her, a passing acquaintance, so when she saw him in the triage center in Seattle, they both grabbed onto each other and never let go. They were both young, and smart, and had easily inserted themselves into the growing resistance that became the WLF, securing minor leadership positions as FEDRA fell in Washington state. 

“I still remember when we figured out that she was immune. We were out on a raid mission, got completely swamped by clickers. Our team got split up, I lost track of her. Got back to base and when I found out she hadn’t returned, I figured she was gone, another devastation.” They’ve set up camp for the night in a shelled-out gas station as Steve whispers these memories, hanging his arms over his knees as he sits against a wall. 

“Imagine my surprise, my relief, when she comes stumbling back to the gates four days later. They had to hold me back from hugging her while they tested her for infection, it felt like my heart exploded when the scanner went red.” He takes a deep breath, “but she swore up and down that she had been bit that first day she was out there, and she still hadn’t turned three days later. She showed us the bite on her shoulder and it was unlike anything we’d ever seen. It was healing.”

Joel thinks of the scars she had shown him, the glaring evidence of violence endured and rejected.

“They put her in solitary immediately, under observation. The Front had cobbled together a de facto medical team, former doctors and scientists. They kept her there, in the hospital, for two weeks. No one would tell me what was going on, just that she was still her but that they couldn’t let me see her, couldn’t let her back out among us.” 

Steve stops, shudders. Alex dips his head towards his chest, closing his eyes.

“And then, at the end of those two weeks, they let me in to see her. She was fine, the bite was fully scabbed over, no infection. She told me they were gonna release her the next day so she could get back to work, that they’d bring her in for more testing later on.”

“They didn’t release her though. When I didn’t see her at breakfast or lunch, I went to the hospital looking for answers. They hadn’t released her, they had moved her. Said that her body was too valuable, that she needed to be placed under full medical observation. Not that she was too valuable, her body was too valuable.” Joel feels sick to his stomach hearing this all too familiar story.

“They told me it wasn’t my place to be asking these questions, that I needed to remember my position before they reminded me themselves. Those were still early days for the Front. Someone said the wrong thing and suddenly you’d never see them again. I was terrified, I didn’t fucking know what to do. I figured she was too valuable a fighter, too valuable a soldier for them to kill her. That they’d get whatever they wanted from her and release her.”

Steve’s hands are shaking as he huffs out an exhale. “Months went by. They knew that I was worried, that I hadn’t just dropped it. I’d get a message every few weeks from a higher up, letting me know she was safe, that they still needed to keep her under observation. It had been ten months when I finally started to lose it. I couldn’t keep my head down any longer.”

“There had been a raid by the Seraphites, at the hospital. My team had been sent to pacify the situation. I was by myself, clearing out the top floor and I found a doctor, one of the doctors, bleeding out.” Steve’s staring straight ahead as he tells this story, fists clenched now, voice resolute.

“He had a gunshot wound in his left side. I dug my thumb into the puncture, twisting the bullet deeper, and I told him to tell me where they were keeping her. And he sang. I shot him in the head.”

“It was easy to get people to help me find her. She was well-liked by most, a natural leader and a good friend. They were keeping her in an enclosure in the old Woodland Park Zoo. The fucking zoo. It was an off-limits area for civilians.”

Steve pauses, wringing his hands, glancing at Joel beside him. “It wasn’t hard getting her out. I had the best of the best with me when it came to fighting, but when the others saw what had been done to her, they abandoned us. I guess they were scared of her, or scared for her, I don’t really know. But I had a car ready, packed up. I hid her in the back and we got the hell out of Seattle before anyone was the wiser. Never looked back.”

“I remember I stopped the car the minute we crossed state lines, asked her to let me treat her wounds. I think it had finally sunk in, what I had seen. When we found her, she was chained at the ankle in a plexiglass cage –” Steve hiccups and Joel can see he’s now silently crying, shaking in both sadness and rage. “N-naked from the waist up, a-and all over her back–” he takes a sharp inhale, “well, she showed you the scars. That’s nothing compared to what it looked like fresh.” 

“All these years, I’ve thought about it, and I still can’t figure out what they were trying to do with her, why they did that. Were they just trying to see how many infections it’d take before she succumbed to it? Trying to figure out how her body fought the infection by exposing her to it over and over and over? Or were they just using her as some sort of perverse entertainment? The miracle woman who gets back up everytime.” Steve takes a shuddering inhale, letting his shoulders slump.

“She was fucking terrified. Didn’t even really trust me, kept asking me if I was gonna have to take her back soon.” He scoffs, “I guess I understood that, after she’d been betrayed by so many. I just kept promising her and promising her that I’d– that I’d never let her get taken back there again.” Steve’s taking shuddering breaths, eyes squeezed shut.

Silence descends. Alex is crying. Joel is speechless. Steve mumbles, “I don’t wanna say anymore right now. I can’t.”

Joel tentatively rests his hand on Steve’s forearm. The younger man squints at him through the dim light. “We’re gonna find her. We’re not gonna let it happen again.”

He’s not sure where those words come from. He’s not sure if they’re even true. But it’s all that he can offer this shivering man. 

“We gotta get to them before they’re back in Washington. The minute they hit home turf, we’re screwed.” Alex wipes his nose with his shirt sleeve, looking at Joel, “we’ve got all of Oregon to find them then.”

The three men resolve themselves to silence in the aftermath of these words, each stuck in his own mind, replaying what’s been said, what’s been lived.

Little do they know about two miles further up the highway, she’s waking up after having been drugged endlessly for the last week, and she has no intention of going back under anytime soon.

#joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #tlou #pedro pascal #the last of us #fanfic

[covencupid]

We've Never Met

CW/TW: Violence, stalking, manipulation, amnesia/memory loss, minor character death, harassment, police mismanagement, eventual smut.

Pairing: Danny "Jed Olson" Johnson X F!Reader

Tags will be updated as needed.

Summary: They called you the "Miracle of Lily Lake" after you woke up from your month-long coma. You were alive after a brutal attack on New Years by a vicious killer that had targeted the residents of the sleepy town of Lily Lake, Texas. They say it's a blessing not to remember what happened that night. After several futile attempts to aid authorities, and countless therapy sessions that ended equally fruitless, you concede to the loss of your memory. Maybe it is better that you don't remember. He's gone after all. After you were found, there were no other murders that followed. It ended with you.

It was time for a change. Lily Lake held the remains of a life you could hardly return to. No one knew how to treat you, everyone wanted to be the one to wrestle a memory out of you. When the opportunity arises for a fresh start you welcome it with open arms and make your way to sunny Florida to give yourself a chance at a normal life.

Lily Lake was too much of a close call for Danny. The bitch totally went off script. It was time to ditch Texas. People were far too neighborly, and these state troopers hid in the long stretches of uninhabited land like lions in tall grass. Nope, fuck that.

Danny has started over in Roseville, Florida and everything is going peachy-fucking-keen. His job at the paper allows him to have one hand on the crime and the other on the reporting. Everything is coming up Danny in his new habitat, until he spots a far too familiar face, back from the dead and slinging coffee in his favorite coffee house. What the fuck?

A/N: Before you begin I would like to thank y'all for the support. When I say I'm rusty, I'm rusted, sat unused in a shed rusty. I will try to be diligent about tagging, but please don't hesitate to bring up anything you'd like tagged. I hope y'all enjoy. This chapter is pretty much all exposition, but we're getting to the meat soon. BIG HUGE FAT THANKS to @mamamemequeen for feeding me with inspo and reading this first. The title and this story is inspired by the Neko Case song of the same name. Listen to Neko. She will change your life.

We've Never Met

I

February 1991

        The cold chill of a soul snakes its way up the breathing tube into your lungs. With a lightning rod of pain electrifying your senses from within, this is what it feels like to be born. But there are no awakening cries from you, only a blearily shifting gaze that seeks to make sense of the blurs and sounds that are developing around you. As the soft edges harden into complete shapes, you pick up on the chorus of bell tones and chimes that heralded your arrival into this room. The world seemed to form beneath your weight that felt at once painfully dense and nearly ephemeral. While your senses flickered to life, your mind began to take stock of the room you found yourself in. 

       Your eyes scanned the clean, clean room. The blinds have been drawn closed but thin ribbons of light streamed into the room. The realization that you were in a hospital room hit at the same time as your throat felt the tube hitting its walls. The panic at the sudden awareness of your senses made your heart race. With a chorus of bells, two nurses burst into the room. There was a moment before they rushed to help you where they seemed to be just as shocked as you were to be in that room. 

What followed was a stream of questions that made you feel like an alien being interrogated after landing on Earth. Every answer you gave seemed to disappoint and prompt another question. After your back and forth with representatives from Earth you were left alone in the clean room for some time. You could hear excited chatter outside the door. Through the windows you could see the scrambling, scattering movements of the team of nurses that were previously fussing over you. They dispersed like a swarm of insects would under the flash of a sudden light. The moment of peace that followed was punctuated with an encroaching feeling of dread, but you couldn’t exactly place where it was coming from. As it stood, finding out the source of your anxiety was the least of your concern when your body felt like the meat had been wrenched from the bone and put back together in the wrong places. The dim light still felt like it shone too bright. You looked down at your arms to find them littered with cuts and bruises in the places not covered by a cast. The more you looked at them, the less you felt certain that they truly were your arms. 

Did your arms always look like this? Underneath the injuries, did they always look like that? What did your arms look like before? Before? Before what exactly? Something had to happen. If it did, and it most certainly did, you had to remember. You would remember, right? You could not possibly forget something that made you feel as though you were turned inside out. But where was the memory? Your mind desperately tried to grab at nothing. You tried to refer back to a blank space in your head. There was nothing to pull from. There was nothing but the clues of your wounds to make sense of. The click of the door being opened broke you from your steady spiral.

You looked up to see three men eyeing you with what looked like a mix of reverence and trepidation. The man in the clean white coat, the doctor, walked ahead of the two other men. He wore a warm smile and spoke in a measured, reassuring tone. 

“(Y/N), my name is Dr. Ortiz. I’m very glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

“Uh, I’m ok.” The pleasantry rolled off your tongue without thinking. No, definitely not ok. “I’m not, I mean-” you took a moment to process what exactly you wanted to say to this doctor. Of the millions of questions racing through your head, none came to mind. Each complaint and doubt that bubbled in your mind died in your throat. You stared blankly at the doctor hoping he could look at you and just know, as a doctor, what was wrong with you and how to fix it.

“It’s ok, you must have a lot of questions, and we’re here to help.” Though you felt a bit more at ease at the warm reassurance from the doctor, that nagging dread kept ebbing in from the corners of your eyes. The doctor turned to his left and gestured to the man closest to him. “This is Detective Keller,” the detective responded by flashing a tight smile that did not reach his eyes. “And this is Lieutenant Garza,” the doctor gestured to the man on the detective’s left who opted to sport the same rigid smile while eyeing you closely. The doctor pulled a chart by your bed and flipped through the pages before exhaling a breath he didn’t seem to know he was holding. “What is the last thing that you remember?”

Well fuck.

Your mind went back to grasping at unseen straws. You had memories. You knew the sky was up, the ground was down. You… worked. Yeah, you worked, you had a job. At… somewhere. You remember your mom, her yelling at you before a winter dance your sophomore year of high school, her making you an easter basket of alcohol when you turned 21. What was in between? You remember drinking coffee with your sister when she bought that fancy espresso machine. That machine, she bought it with her bonus money. She got a bonus because… what did she do? She sold stuff? No, she wrote something? Advertising! She wrote copy, and she’s really good, and that year your old jeep broke down on the highway and you called your sister scream-crying about how much you loved her and how scared you were. Right, you loved rides in that thing. The Jeep. You remember going inside the car while it was raining hard. There was something wrong. It smelled wrong. Strong cologne, a presence you can taste. But there was nothing after or before. When did that happen? You held loose pieces that weren’t enough to give a satisfactory answer.

“I remember things, like my family and stuff. I don’t remember how I got here, if that’s what you meant.”

The men exchanged looks, a whole conversation had before you with eyes only.

“(Y/N), we know this is probably all very confusing, and we will answer any questions you have about what I’m going to tell you,” the detective inched closer. His tone was soft, but his face remained cold and speculative. “You were attacked in a home you were housesitting. We believe it was an assailant that we suspect is tied to a string of break-ins and murders around Lily Lake. What we know is that there was a struggle starting on the ground floor that moved to the second floor balcony. Is any of this sounding familiar? Any details you remember?”

Attacked. Assailant. Murders. Struggle. Balcony. Nothing.

“I was housesitting? For who?”

The men exchanged looks again. Silent disappointment shared between them.

“Kenneth and Delilah McGary. They told us you’ve house-sat for them before. We have reason to believe that you were not the intended target for this attack. Mrs. McGary had reported strange, threatening phone calls in the days leading up to the attack. The McGary’s believed that Delilah McGary was being targeted so they decided to make a sudden trip to the in-laws for the new year out of fear for her safety.” The lieutenant finally spoke up.

The names did not sound familiar, nor did any of the details that they claimed you lived through. Still, you felt a tug of resentment knowing that it shouldn’t have been you. It should be whoever Delilah McGary was. She should be the one that is lying broken in this bed. She should be the one trying to piece together her life. There were no words that would properly translate the rage you felt towards a woman you at one point knew, and the person that wanted to kill her. The person that existed in the shadows of your memory, sheltered in the dread of whatever it was that you lived through. Instead of words, a blur of tears muddled your vision before falling freely down your cheeks.

The men spoke in their silent language for a moment before the lieutenant took a seat by your bedside. “This is a lot. I know.” Lieutenant Garza’s face broke from its neutral demeanor to shift to a weary gaze. You hate the look of pity he gives you. “But if there is anything, anything at all, that you recall from that night. No matter how insignificant it may seem. Any stray detail you may remember. It’s ok if nothing comes up now-” you cut him off.

“The new year- you said it was the new year. When it happened, I mean.” You couldn’t remember the holidays.  Who had you spent them with? Why did thinking about the new year make the hairs on the back of your neck rise and make you feel as though your brain would come to a head through your skull and spill out. 

10…9…8…

“Yes, we believe that the perpetrator used the commotion of all the fireworks and parties on the block to cover his attack.”

Right. The fireworks. 7…6…5…

“Thankfully you had been found not too long after midnight after a neighbor happened to see you on the ground from their second floor window following your fall off the balcony.”

The fireworks. The balcony. The fireworks. The balcony.

“The witness had said that she had seen you holding onto something, possibly a hood or a type of mask, but we were not able to find what she saw. Maybe the perp retrieved it before fleeing the scene?”

4…3…2…

Balcony. Fireworks. Mask. Balcony. Fireworks. Mask. Balcony. Fireworks… that smell. Someone on the block had started their fireworks early. It scared me, but at that moment I felt something else. I smelled it first, that overwhelming presence. Cologne, just like the one in the jeep.

”New Years alone and nothing to do...”

1…

“Poor bunny.”

#danny johnson x reader #danny jed olsen johnson #dbd ghostface x reader #dbd ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #ghostface fanfic #danny johnson smut #danny johnson x y/n #ghostface x you #ghostface dbd #ghostface x y/n #danny johnson x you #SoundCloud

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Previous Chapters : 1-15 on Archive of Our Own

Story Content : 18+, Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Dom/Sub, Sadism/Masochism, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 16: Save me from myself

Chapter title is lyrics from "Drown"

We’re back to Oli’s perspective.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I’m a fucking idiot.

For a moment I’d foolishly let myself believe I’d shed my fears when it comes to the woman in my arms.

We were tucked into a dark corner backstage near the exit, attempting to control our mutually laboured breathing from our unexpected sex – on the fucking arena stage – as we listened to footsteps slowly fade into the distance, coming from the corridor we desperately needed to use in order to get to a dressing room.

And I couldn’t have been more terrified.

I’d been so reckless tonight, so stupid, throwing away every plan I’d so meticulously gone over in my head all day, just cause I couldn’t stand listening to her and Mat flirt anymore.

I looked down at her as we waited, resting against my chest with closed eyes, still delirious from everything I’d done to her, a blissfully relaxed expression on her face – along with smeared makeup and my cum that glistened in the dim light.

I can’t believe I did this, I clearly had no self control whatsoever when it came to Alice.

I’d promised myself I’d stand back tonight, let her have the space she so desperately needed, let her spend time with Mat regardless of how painful it was.

Instead I’d stomped off like a moody toddler, hoping, begging the universe that she’d follow.

When she came to check on me, I couldn’t help it, my heart sang. 

Sure, I was still a giant fucking baby about everything, but words can’t express how happy I was when she walked up on that stage; when she decided to spend time with me, get to know me. 

Opened up for me, let herself be vulnerable with me.

But I hadn’t meant to fuck her.

In fact, I’d been working very hard to not let that happen tonight, afraid it might ruin what could be; afraid it will solidify that’s all we’ll ever be. Like some carnal version of Pavlov's bell, training her mind and body that sex is all I’m good for.

But how do I stop coming back for more; how do I walk away from paradise after having tasted it?

While I hadn’t meant to fuck her, she’d shown she can be trusted, and while I couldn’t fully trust her yet, this was a very good start.

Not that it fucking matters, we’ll never end up together anyway.

Knowing I needed to focus on the task at hand, I mentally slapped myself before I sank too deep into my sadness at the hopeless thought.

Right as the footsteps faded into silence, I made a run for it. 

With a yelp, Alice clung to me as I legged it down the all-too bright corridor towards my dressing room, relying on sheer luck to not have anyone catch us. 

Because while I enjoy almost getting caught a fair bit, I never actually want to get caught. Nor do I want anyone to see Alice like this – that is for my eyes only.

Yet tonight I’d decided it was a good idea to fuck her on stage, in an arena where anyone can walk in at any moment, then proceed to cover her in cum without an escape plan.

Which bring me right back to why I’m a fucking idiot.

Breathless, I got to my dressing room and fumbled with my elbow to get the door open. Once inside I slammed the door shut – probably a bit too aggressively out of panic.

“You alright to stand, love?” I asked, my voice as unsteady as my legs at this point, needing to put her down before my adrenaline ran out.

“Sure.” She responded, not sounding too convincing.

But I didn’t have a choice, so I gently slipped her legs out from my grip and leaned her against the door – which she proceeded to slide down immediately. Since my own legs were close to giving out as well, I decided to join her on the floor, falling to a kneeling position in front of her, the sounds of our panting filling the air.

“I guess not.” She added after we’d managed to catch most of our breath, causing us both to huff out a laugh.

The laugh made a smile bloom on her cum-glossed lips that lingered long after her laugh faded.

She looked so happy like this, at peace even – it was infectious, spreading warmth throughout my chest. 

I was struck with the thought that I’d kill to reproduce that expression on her beautiful face, without sex having been the catalyst.

I must have been staring, cause suddenly she was fidgeting uncomfortably under my gaze, snapping me back to the moment.

“Do you need anything?” I asked gently to not add to her discomfort.

She shook her head lazily for a moment before appearing as though she’d remembered something, “Oh, I mean, I need to get cleaned up. Can you help me get to my dressing room?”

I eyed her up with scepticism, “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, love.”

She looked down at her stained clothes, as if she’d somehow forgotten about her state that probably shouldn’t be on display in the corridor again, “Sorry, you seem to have melted my brain.” She added with another laugh, causing me to grin back at her.

How is she this adorable?

“You can shower here.” I inclined my head towards the private shower across the small room, beyond the clothing racks, two dressing tables, and a lone sofa in the corner.

“Thank you. I just– I need a moment.” She added, clearly still delirious.

“Take all the time you need.” I pushed myself back up on my legs that had thankfully recovered by now, “I’ll have a quick shower in the meantime.”

Fear caused me to make quick work of my shower, as if she’d be gone once I came back out if I wasn’t fast enough, slipping through my fingers as soon as she’d gotten what she needed from me.

Thankfully, my fears had been wrong. 

When I came back out she was still resting against the door, looking a bit more bright-eyed. I offered her my hand as I looked down at her through my wet curls, just a towel around my waist. She took it, getting to her feet, appearing quite steady.

“Towels?” She asked, pinning me with her eyes – an unusual intensity behind them, glowing with an emotion I couldn’t identify.

“They’re in there.” I answered distantly, feeling perplexed and curious about what could have been running through her mind while I showered. But I decided against prodding, having already overstepped tonight in a multitude of ways – such as stealing her away from what should have been a date with Mat. 

She hadn’t called it that, but we both knew what it was.

I sank into the sofa once she disappeared behind the bathroom door, the image of Mat’s arm around her on the bus yesterday refusing to leave my mind.

Why did they have to look as if they were made for each other? I hated it, and I hated how good he’d be for her.

That’s not strictly true, I want her to be happy and to flourish.

Even if it’s not with me.

I felt ice wrap around my heart at the idea.

No matter how much I hated it, Mat would provide her with a safe space to heal and figure herself out, without the constant chaos that seems to follow me like a shadow – always pushing her or testing her in some capacity. 

Sexually was one thing, but emotionally? That’s where she needed a rest.

No, she needed to get away from a parasite like myself; infiltrating and corrupting, good for nothing but destruction.

Mat on the other hand – he’s a natural healer. He sees someone struggling and he’ll magically offer them everything they need to recover, seemingly effortlessly. It’s like he knows exactly what you need to feel better, even when you can’t see it yourself. He’d done exactly that for me many times over the years, always been a good friend, always taken care of me without judgement – even on my worst days. 

Even when I treated him like dirt.

Is everyone better off if I just disappear from the picture?

I sighed deeply, sinking further into the sofa.

It was becoming harder and harder not to hack away at my own self image, to not put myself down. But I wasn’t ready to give up just yet. I needed Alice in my life – needed her to be mine. I also needed to prove to myself, and to her, that I can be good for her, that I can be what she needs – what she deserves.

So I was fighting myself, trying to stay level headed.

Trying to stay sane.

But I was deteriorating fast, slipping into bad habits, scattered thoughts, and concerning mindsets full of negativity and contradictory overly positive delusions where I suddenly believe everything will be fucking fantastic in the end; that she’d wake up one day and realise I was perfect for her; that she’d not only accept how overbearing I am, but enjoy it, allowing me to smother her in all the affection I have to offer.

I was all over the place – either filled to the brim with hope, love and lust, or drowning in despair and heartbreak.

Sometimes all at the same time.

… If I could just focus.

Alice appeared in the doorframe of the bathroom, pulling me out of my spiralling thoughts.

Her face was flushed, her hair wet, with just a white towel wrapped around her. She appeared shy as she walked over to me on the sofa, straddling me.

I was mesmerised.

She was so warm where our bodies connected, her hands so tender on my chest, on my shoulders. I reached for her hair, tucking some loose strands behind her ear that had fallen into her face, her large blue eyes looking right through me, into me.

How could I ever walk away from this willingly?

I wrapped my arms around her, holding her closer, enjoying the softness of her skin, savouring the moment. One of her hands wrapped to the back of my neck, caressing up my nape, lacing delicate fingers into my hair, eliciting shivers of delight.

She leaned in to kiss me, slowly, gently – our first kiss today – causing a fire to ignite in my chest.

I’ll never survive this; I will lay down my body and soul at this alter of worship, not giving a single fuck what happens to me in the process.

The kiss deepened, I couldn’t tell which one of us was taking it there, but it was heading away from the tenderness I craved so badly right now, making me question if she wasn’t done with me yet. I considered pulling away, to ask if she wanted more, if she wanted her own climax, but she beat me to it, speaking before I got a chance to process my own thoughts fully.

“What are your nightmares about?” She asked softly, as if scared to speak the words.

While I was grateful that she wanted to continue our night, that she wanted to keep learning about me, even after sex, I wasn’t quite sure how to answer her question since all my nightmares lately had been taken over by increasingly gruesome ways in which Alice rips my heart out. 

“Fears, mostly…”

I opened my mouth again to elaborate, to tell her about the history of my nightmares and how it all started – to let her see more of the vulnerable parts of me – when there was a knock at the door.

Our eyes snapped to the door, then back to each other. Before I knew it she’d left my lap, heading for the bathroom, both swiftly and gracefully – which is very impressive considering what a disaster she often is in that department – disappearing behind the bathroom door.

Despite knowing she needed more time before anyone found out about us, knowing this was a terrible way for the word to get out, it still hurt me that she decided to hide, especially while I was in the middle of opening up to her.

I felt myself recoil emotionally back into myself.

“What?” I yelled once I was sure Alice had hid properly.

The door swung open with Mat’s head to poke out from behind it.

“By any chance seen Alice?”

Of course he was looking for her. Knowing what an empathetic soul Mat is, he was probably more worried about her than upset that she’d left him tonight.

“You lost her?” I asked, trying my best to seem inconspicuous.

“You can say that. She ran off.” Mat responded, sounding defeated as he pushed the door open, closing it behind him before collapsing into the seat next to me with a sigh.

“Sorry, mate.” My words were apologetic and sincere. Just because I was happy Alice had spent tonight with me, didn’t mean I wanted Mat to suffer in any way. He didn’t deserve that.

“I think I really fucked this one up,” He started, and I couldn’t help but dart my eyes towards the bathroom door which was slightly ajar, knowing Alice could hear whatever confessions was about to come out of Mat’s mouth as he opened up to me, causing even more self hatred to gnaw it’s way deep into my bones. But Mat pressed on, blissfully unaware who was listening in, “Think I pushed her too hard. She clearly needs a bunch of time and patience. Maybe even just a friend, which I’d be fine with to be honest, it’s just hard to not aim for more when you’ve found someone that’s so…” His eyes were filled with a childlike wonder as he searched for the proper words to describe her. And I knew how he felt, I’d been there myself.

“Captivating.” I finished for him, not realising I’d said it out loud at first. 

But she was truly captivating. No matter how you felt about Alice, even if you found her strange, it was hard to not look at her; be entertained by all her little quirks, or get lost in the body she was so proudly putting on display more and more.

“I mean, yeah, there sure is something about her– did you know she set her ex’s car on fire?”

I huffed out a laugh, “Yeah, bet he had it coming.”

He threw me a massive smile, positively delighted at the notion of Alice doing something so seemingly out of character for her. 

“Oh he must have, I have a hard time seeing what would push someone as sweet as Alice to do something like that.” But his smile quickly faded, as he gave me a thoughtful look, “You know, I really thought you two had something going on.” 

I just stared at him, the idea of responding to his question masquerading as a statement with anything but the truth, was so grating I couldn’t get the words on my lips. But it didn’t matter, because before I got a chance to speak he continued, not skirting around the topic anymore.

“Do you like her?” He asked, studying my face with a side glance.

I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t lie this time, “Yeah.”

My eyes darted to the bathroom again, hoping Alice didn’t mind that I’d shared as much.

At least I hadn’t told him what we’ve been up to.

Mat looked disappointed, “Thought so… Why do we always like the same woman?” He asked with a sombre smile.

I returned the expression, both of us knowing all the heartache it had caused us over the years, “No clue, mate. But it’s a theme, innit?”

We sat in silence for a while. My mind was racing, wanting to tell him to back off, that I’m already pursuing her, that I already have feelings for her. But every time I considered opening my dumb mouth I’d find myself feeling the opposite; that she’d be happier with him, that he’d be better for her in every way possible. That I should take a step back and just let them see if there’s something there without my interference.

Because I’m not good enough for her.

Not good for anyone, really.

That I’m as toxic as they come; made painfully clear by how the only reason I’m in this mess in the first place is cause I drunkenly grabbed an employee one night and fucked her on a table.

Meanwhile Mat is trying to actually help her, befriend her – treat her right.

“Do you want me to back off?” He asked quietly after a long moment.

“No, I think you’d be good for her.” I answered quickly, feeling numbness flow through my veins, replacing my blood with each heartbeat.

My response hadn’t satisfied him, in fact he looked quite unhappy, “I don’t know…” He fidgeted a bit, appearing uncomfortable speaking his next words, “No need to stay away from her on my behalf by the way. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, why I thought you two had something going on.”

I gave him a dejected smile, “Doesn’t mean anything. The ladies love a disaster of a man, until they have to actually put up with him.”

He shook his head at my statement.

“You’re not as annoying as you think, Oli.” He sounded serious, but Mat was a lighthearted man, so he continued with a more cheerful demeanour, even throwing in a smile at the end, “I mean you’re pretty fucking annoying, but you’re tolerable most days.”

I laughed at him, “Thanks, mate.”

“I’m gonna have another quick look for her, check if she’s alright.” He said, pushing off the sofa, “You getting some sleep or wanna come play some games? They all got a playstation set up in the other dressing room.”

“Think I’ll get some rest.”

“Alright.”

Before opening the door, he turned around to ask me one last question. 

“Do you think she’d like to go to the lake with me, or is that a stupid idea?”

Our next stop was at a hotel we always loved staying at when we were on tour in this area, even though the venue was almost two hours away from the hotel this time, we’d opted to stay there regardless. It was far removed from the bustle of the city, overlooking a lake and some woods with a particularly amazing trail. It probably wouldn’t be at its best this time of year, but still beautiful if you like being out in nature.

Which, to be fair, I didn’t know if Alice did. But I could see her enjoying it.

If nothing else, at least she’d get to spend some alone time with Mat.

Away from me.

“I think she’d like that.”

The numbness in my blood turned thicker, more painful this time.

“Alright, thanks for the chat, you’re a solid friend.”

Ironic, as I felt like a very poor excuse for a friend.

The pain washed over me as soon as he shut the door behind him and Alice stepped out from the bathroom, disbelief absolutely dripping from her.

“Why did you– why are you encouraging him to ask me out?” She asked with hurt in her voice.

I couldn’t look at her. 

She needed to leave – to get the hell away from me. So I got up, and started looking for some clothes I could give her that didn’t obviously belong to me, so she could go anywhere but here.

“Because I’m a fucking mess, and you deserve better than that.” I bit out, as I stalked over to the clothing racks, flipping through the things hanging there, anger starting to boil under the surface when I couldn’t find anything, clothes falling to the floor haphazardly as I sped up my search.

“Hello!? Did you not hear me on that stage, telling you I’m the mess!” She was behind me, too close to me.

“You’re not, you’re just hurting. It’s different.” I retorted, pushing past her as I headed towards the luggage, tearing it open, pulling more clothes out that did nothing but scream property of Oli Sykes, throwing them onto the floor behind me as I continued talking, the bitterness inside me spilling uncontrollably into my tone of voice, wrapping its poisonous vines around every word, “Let's not tell them about us, everyone’s better off that way.”

“Oli, please…”

The sadness radiated off of her, filling the room, her voice coming so quietly, with such pleading and desperation. It was shredding my heart mercilessly, shocking me enough to stop rummaging through the luggage for a moment.

“What do you want, Alice?” I asked as the pain was destroying me from the inside out, until it reached a point where I couldn’t handle it anymore, so I let the bitterness reclaim me.

I continued my mission to find some suitable clothes before I spoke again, my hands shaking as they searched.

“I know it’s not me; all I’m good for is fucking your brains out.” My words came low – vicious.

“That’s not fair.” She bit out, sounding very annoyed at my statement.

I couldn’t blame her, I was being a cunt.

A bitter laugh clawed its way up my throat, “Well life’s not fair, is it?”

I was growing increasingly frustrated, nearing the end of the large pile of clothes without seemingly finding anything to cover her with so she could get out of my face, when she caused my emotions to stop dead in their tracks, making me forget what I was even doing.

“I have feelings for you too, you fucking idiot!”

A thick silence fell as the words echoed in my mind.

Gripping the clothes still in my hands, I shot back up to my feet, turning towards her.

She looked as shocked as I felt.

“What?” I asked flatly, as if I hadn’t heard correctly, as if I’d somehow imagined it; hallucinated it.

She looked away, squirming under my unwavering gaze.

“I, I…” She started.

“What do you mean?”

I threw the fabric I’d been painfully clutching in my hands to the side, stepping over several colourful piles of random shirts and trousers that were seemingly covering the whole room as I stalked towards her.

“Alice, what the fuck do you mean by feelings?”

I shoved aside the intrusive thought to shake the answers out of her when I came close enough. 

Instead I felt myself relax by her proximity to me, by the pink blush that was creeping up her soft, beautiful cheeks.

“I… like you.” She replied, her eyes repeatedly darting to mine, as if it was too hard to continuously look at me, but she was trying anyway.

The delusional, lovesick fool sprung back to life inside me, having nearly drowned mere moments ago.

This can’t be happening. It’s too good to be true, is it not?

“In what way?” I asked, feeling myself smile down at her, not wanting to pay any mind to my negative inner dialogue.

“In more ways than just sex.”

Pure, unadulterated hope flourished inside me like a blossoming meadow in the height of spring, unrealistically bright and colourful like a scene from some random anime.

Hope – what a very dangerous thing to have.

“So, we… like each other.” My words were spoken with a sense of awe and wonder, knowing damn well I felt a lot more than like, but that didn’t matter. We were heading down the right path – the path I’d been fighting so hard to get us on.

I felt my wet hair drip onto my shoulder, reminding me that we weren’t in fact suspended in time where everything will feel this amazing forever.

“Yeah.” She added shyly, smiling.

My own smile grew, “That’s a start.”

“Mat is right though, I need time. I’m–”

I needed her to shut up, understanding that everything isn’t as perfect as they felt, but I just wanted to savour this feeling a bit longer. 

So I cut her off with a kiss.

She tensed up as soon as I grabbed her face and crushed her lips against mine, but she quickly relaxed into it, my hands leaving her flushed cheeks to snake around her back, pulling her tightly against me, her arms wrapping around my neck.

Religion was a scam; this is the only real heaven.

But once again things were becoming more heated, as our kisses so easily do, especially since I could feel our towels slipping from all the commotion.

So I pulled away.

“What do you need from me?” I asked against her lips, wanting to know how I could continue my journey into her heart without scaring her off.

“To take things slow.”

She gave me a stern look as she emphasised the last word.

“Alright.” 

I can do that, I can go slow. I don’t need to pressure her anymore. I can just relax and take things at her pace – whatever that is. Doesn’t really matter how slow it is, as long as you get there eventually.

Right?

“How slow are we talking here?”

Shit.

Her eyes were pleading with me, “Oli…”

“Sorry, love.” I said sheepishly.

While I wanted to be done asking her probing questions for tonight, there was something else that I knew would drive me up the wall if I didn’t ask.

“If this isn’t just sex, how come you don’t want the others to know about us?”

She looked away, appearing more apologetic than annoyed at my question, “It’s just a lot of added pressure.”

“Let's not tell them then.” I responded immediately, not wanting to risk having any unnecessary pressure that could ruin this.

But she looked confused, “I thought you didn’t want to lie to them.”

“I’ve already lied to them, I don't want it to have been for nothing.”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah cause that doesn’t add any pressure…”

I sighed, “Can’t win can I?” I asked under my breath, more to myself than her. I untangled us and led us back to the sofa, sitting her down next to me before I gave her a thoughtful look, “We can do whatever you want, love.”

She appeared panicked as she thought about it, “You can tell them.”

I squinted at her, “You sure?” I asked, wanting her to be certain.

Her head fell forward into her hands, appearing utterly defeated, “No…”

My mind was racing, trying to figure out how to go forward, when it hit me.

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do; let’s not tell them we’ve been hooking up, or that there’s feelings involved, let’s just say that we’re going on a date tomorrow night.” 

Alice’s head reappeared from her hands, looking amused and surprised at my cheeky way of asking her out. 

I couldn’t help but break into a huge grin.

She studied my face for a long moment, “Okay.” she answered quietly, causing my heart to skip a beat, “Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

Her eyes sparkled as the amusement on her features grew, but sadly her smile wasn’t long lived, quickly warping into a deep frown, “I need to go talk to Mat, tell him I just want friendship.”

My heart sank, having completely forgotten about him for a moment, “No, you should go to the lake with him.”

She looked confused, “Why would I do that?”

I felt the ice return to my veins as thoughts from our previous conversations flooded me.

“You told me you weren’t sure if he’s your type anymore.” I said flatly, studying her face as it flipped between several emotions, “Get sure.”

Her changing expressions settled on sadness.

“Alright.” She responded simply, plainly, without any further discussion necessary, causing me to wonder if she also needed to know if Mat was for her, to explore what could be with him before committing to anything with me – or if she was agreeing to it for my sake, to settle my fears, not hers.

Regardless of her reasons, I’d probably drive myself insane wondering about those two if me and Alice end up together. So this was for the best.

Doubt started gnawing at my thoughts.

All my reasoning made perfect sense, yet I couldn’t help but feel like I’d just fucked up massively, like I was pushing Alice into the arms of another man, ripping her away from me.

I felt my palms grow sweaty, my heart pounding.

Was this a mistake?

Once more with feeling; I’m a fucking idiot.

... Subscribe to the story on Ao3 for future updates

#oli sykes fic #oli sykes x reader #oli sykes smut #oli sykes fan fiction #bring me the horizon #smut #you got a taste now #oli sykes #Hope you like this one ♥