#i was feeling quite sick for the past 3 weeks and had to take care of my health
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I'll Never Let You Go
Summary - Your fights with Wanda were unusual, but often recently. Misunderstanding was bound to happen. When things with Wanda get too difficult you seek comfort in someone else's embrace. 5k word count
Warnings - Hurt-Comfort, angst, mommy Wanda, sub!reader, dom/sub dynamics, mean Wanda, grinding, pinning, Natasha comforting, fighting, face-slapping, jealousy, talk of threesome, talks of consent
AN - Part two of the mini-series. Part one here. Surprisingly no real smut in this chapter. Don’t worry, you’ll get your fill-in the next one. Some insight into their fighting as well as what happens after R left ;)) The next chapter will probably be the last in this series! Feel free to hit me up in my asks with thoughts/ideas/requests though! :))
18+, minors + men dni
Two weeks ago
“Detka. I have had enough.” Wanda exclaimed as she angrily tossed the sponge into the sink, turning to you with wide eyes. Her jaw was slack as she looked at you, her eyebrow raised and one hand on her hip as she expected you to understand what was bothering her. You dropped your spoon back into your cereal bowl, looking quite confused at the sudden anger, choking down your bite of frosted flakes. Before you could ask what was wrong, she decided to tell you. “You have been sitting there, chomping loudly enough for the entire neighborhood to hear you eat that for the past what?! 20 minutes?!” She exclaimed in frustration as she dried her hands on her robe, bringing her hands to hold her forehead in pain, grumbling under her breath. You knew it wasn't about the cereal. Her head had been killing her for the past few days. She had just been covering up the sickness with anger. She pressed her palms to her eyes, holding them firmly.
“I’m sorry Wands,” you said as you stood up, dumping the rest of the cereal down the drain as you took over the job of washing the dishes. When you finished the dishes she was still standing there, leaning up against the counter, her head buried in her hands. You walked over cautiously as you gently placed your hands on her hips, sliding them up slowly to her waist. You leaned closer and kissed her temple. “Maybe you should take a break from work?” You suggested tenderly as you rubbed her sides softly. “You've been working so hard lately and deserve a break. I can stay home with you - run you a bath and-”
“I should take a break from work?” She interrupted you with a scoff. She pulled her hands away from her eyes and put them on your wrists. “Yeah, suddenly you're the one to talk about when to take a break when I've been telling you to for the past like,” she grumbled not knowing exactly how long the fight was as it was truly pointless. “Forever.” she pushed your hands off her waist and stepped away. “Don't touch me, I'm gross and haven't showered.” She said as she walked towards the cupboard, grabbing a glass of water. You rolled your eyes as you watched her move around the kitchen aimlessly. She never knew how to accept comfort when she wasn't feeling good. She didn't know how to let herself just be taken care of.
“Whatever,” you mumbled under your breath as you went to get your shoes and jacket on to leave for work. You walked into the kitchen again to tell her you were leaving. She hadn’t expected you to come back in because she was leaning face forward on the counter this time, her head buried in her arms as she mumbled in pain. “I won’t be home until late tonight.” You stated, causing her to startle and stand straight up. “Don't wait up,” you told her before contemplating walking over. You always kissed her goodbye, but it didn’t seem like she wanted that today.
She rolled her eyes at you saying you wouldn't be home until late again tonight. It had been like this for the past 3 weeks. You would either plan on being out late or accidentally get her hopes up by saying you would be home but leaving her to sit alone at the dinner table with the meal she prepared for the both of you. She had truly grown to just expect it at this point. She walked over and grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling you into a fast kiss before retreating upstairs. Although she was upset she always made sure to kiss you goodbye. She feared that one day she wouldn't and you would die or something gruesome and she just couldn't risk her chances.
With the deadlines for the end of the year approaching you were at work much too often lately. Not that she was any better to be fair. It seemed anytime one of you was home the other would be off working. It wasn’t ideal and you felt guilty about being gone so often. It would be better in a few weeks.
That night you were surely tied up in your office, paperwork surrounding you in scattered piles. You rubbed your forehead and looked over one of the files on your desk, tapping your pen on the desk. You glanced up at the time, grumbling as you saw it was nearly midnight and you were nowhere near done for the night. When you heard a knock on the door you startled at the sound. Everyone had long left the office and you and the security guard were the only ones that usually remained at this hour. When you looked up, your eyes met with a familiar redhead. Natasha smiled at you before biting her bottom lip softly.
“I figured I’d find you here still.” She licked her lips and shoved a hand in her pocket. “Can I come in?” She asked with a little chuckle and smirk on her face.
“Yeah for sure!” You said, just happy to see anyone at this point in the night. You shut the file in front of you and pushed your chair back slightly. You pushed your glasses off your face, resting them on the top of your head as you looked up at the girl who wandered over to your desk. “What are you doing here?” You asked as you looked up at her. She stood on your side of the desk in front of you, leaning slightly against the desk.
“Oh, you know. I can never seem to remember everything I need when I leave. Makes me come back at odd times.” She said with a laugh as she set her file on top of your pile of stuff. You giggled and bit your bottom lip slightly, sighing at how late it was. You brought a hand to your mouth as you covered up a yawn. “Boring you already huh?” She teased and reached out, taking your glasses off your head and setting them on the desk. Her hand brushed your cheek softly before sighing and leaning back a little further on the desk, her hands bracing her on either side of her body. You blushed a little at the action and quickly turned your face away, looking towards your desktop as you typed a few more things into your document. “You know, you should be working less. These long hours aren’t good for a pretty girl like you.” She said as she looked into your eyes. You avoided eye contact and scoffed a little.
“You sound like Wanda.” You murmured, glancing up at her with a little smile before quickly looking away.
“Oh, do I now?” She asked with a smirk as her hand reached out, spinning your chair so that you were facing her again. “Sounds like the little witch may be right then.” She stated, causing you to roll your eyes, a tiny grin on your face.
“Be nice.” You warned. There was something about Natasha that drew you in. You could never go for it though. You loved Wanda more than anything. It would be stupid to do anything to put that in jeopardy. Unfortunately, your girlfriend seemed to pick up on it slightly. And even more unfortunately Natasha did as well. And she wasn’t good about helping negate those feelings. She reached down and pulled your chair closer to her as she leaned down.
“Yeah?” She grinned. “Or what?” She asked as she raised her eyebrow slightly. Her hand reached underneath your chin. “You’ll spank me?” She teased, knowing you could never. Your breath hitched in your throat slightly and your face turned a bright red as you pushed your chair back, quickly standing up to put some space between you. She got the hint and backed off slightly, reaching for her folder. “Let me take you home at least?” She offered, walking around to the other side of the desk. “Being here too long is…dreary.” She said with a furrowed brow and a tone of dramatics. You nodded and rubbed your face before collecting a few files to bring home. You liked to walk to work and back. You found it peaceful and it wasn’t all that far. It was a little too late tonight to be walking alone so you agreed.
“Fine, but you keep your hands to yourself and the teasing to a minimum.” You warned and pointed a finger at her before collecting your bag and jacket. She just smiled and walked with you to her car. The drive home was fairly quiet. There was little small talk every once and a while but it was a short drive and it wasn’t long until you were home. You said goodbye before going inside. You were always quiet with the lock when you got home, not sure where Wanda would end up for the night. You locked the door behind you and discarded your jacket and bag, hanging them in the closet by the front door. As you crept into the room you smiled as you saw Wanda curled up on the couch, snuggled up under a blanket, a random sitcom playing on the TV. It was all ignored though as she slept through it. You walked over and reached for the TV remote, flipping the TV remote off. As silence filled the air you sighed, watching her so peacefully. You leaned down kissing her forehead before carefully picking her off the couch. She stirred and her eyes opened slightly, her bright but tired green eyes looking up into yours.
“Detka.” She murmured as she wrapped her arms around you, assisting in the carrying to make it easier as she nuzzled her head on your shoulder.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” You whispered with a smile, leaning down to kiss her softly as you paused on your walk. She hummed into the kiss.
“Bed.” She whispered and poked your nose with a smile before closing her eyes again. You laid her on her side of the bed, a blush covering your face that was luckily hidden by the darkness of the room. You covered her up and kissed her forehead. She held onto your arms when you attempted to walk away, a confused look forming on her face.
“I have to get ready for bed, silly.” You whispered and she sighed, slowly letting go to let you get ready. She stole your pillow, pulling it between her arms tightly as she turned onto her side. You smiled at the sight and quickly moved into the bathroom, getting ready for bed as you were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to be in bed with Wanda. When headlights lit up your window Wanda sat up slightly. She frowned when she saw Natasha’s car peeling out of the driveway and driving down the street. Why she took so long to leave was unknown but all it left was this pit of self-consciousness in Wanda’s stomach. She has quickly and wrongfully assumed you were out so late because you were with her. When you came back to bed you crawled in bed next to her, scooting up and pressing your body against hers from behind. You wrapped your arms around her closely and rested your head on her pillow.
“May I have my pillow back, darling?” You asked gently as you rubbed up and down her side softly. She shook her head, squeezing it tighter to her chest. You let out a tired chuckle when she shook her head and pulled her closer, kissing her neck. “I guess that just means I’m going to have to be closer to you tonight huh?” You teased, referring to the fact that the two of you would be sharing a pillow. She let out a hum as an approving response before closing her eyes. You placed one more kiss on her neck before closing your eyes as well. You fell asleep, holding the girl close to you. Unable to sleep, Wanda's quiet tears were muffled into your pillow. She couldn’t understand why you would be out with Natasha so late, again, instead of being home with her. She felt as if it was her fault and she grew to become extremely self-conscious about it.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
The next morning Wanda woke up upset. She just snuggled closer to you as she waited for you to wake up. Typically she would get out of bed and head to work early but this morning she needed the extra time with you. When you woke up you were surprised to see Wanda awake, lying on your chest, her fingertips tracing patterns on your stomach.
“Good morning.” You whispered as you lifted your head slightly to kiss the top of hers. Instead of continuing with the customary response Wanda decided to jump right in.
“You’re always out with Natasha.” She complained, not even looking up at you. You sighed, quickly catching the mood she was in.
“Uh,” you started, confused about where the sudden accusations came from. You went with it anyway. “I mean sometimes, yeah? But I’m also working all the time lately I mean I don’t have the time to be out with her.” You said as your forehead wrinkled in confusion. You brought your hand up to her hair running your fingers through it carefully before massaging her scalp. She grumbled and sat up, turning to look at you.
“Notice how neither one of those things is being with me?” She asked as she pushed your hand away and sat up. You wanted to giggle at how dramatic she was being but you were lucky you didn’t as you realized she was genuinely upset.
“Wands, what’s up?” You asked as you propped yourself up with your elbows. She grumbled and rolled her eyes at your question, assuming why she was upset was blatantly obvious. She moved and straddled your lap. You automatically reached up to put your hands on her thighs but she swatted them away and instead held them by your sides.
“She’s like, obsessed with you or something.” She complained as she pressed your wrists to the bed, silently telling you to keep them there as she pulled her hands away and moved them to your stomach, pushing your shirt up. You got the hint and kept them still but your face wriggled into a frown.
“Come on she’s not obsessed with me.” You said, looking away as you thought back to last night. It was purely situational and she had just been in the area. Remembering the teasing and little bits of flirting Natasha had put out there, maybe you needed to reconsider that idea slightly, and maybe you needed to leave that part out to Wanda. The girl above you took it into her own hands though and with a raise of her hand, her eyes glowed red. When you looked back at her and noticed her you quickly reached up, grabbing her hands. “Wanda!” You frowned, now upset. “Stop using your powers on me.” It was your turn to complain now but she ignored you. Her eyes turned back to normal and she ground her hips against you, pinning your wrists back to the bed, now above your head.
“The little witch may be right. You are working too much.” She scoffed as she began reciting some of the words from last night. “Or what? You’ll spank me?” She grumbled repeating the line as her hips ground against you, suppressing a moan. “Keep your hands to yourself.” She squeezed your wrists tighter. “Why?” She asked, stopping her movements as she looked into your eyes and raised her eyebrow. “Does she not keep her hands to herself?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes at what she was doing.
“Wanda get off me I’m not in the mood.” You said firmly and seriously as you looked up into her eyes. She let go of your wrists with a grumble and moved to sit next to you. “Nothing happened. And nothing is going to happen.” You said as you stood up, rubbing your wrists. “Ever.” You said before disappearing off into the bathroom, leaving her on the bed alone.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Now
Running away was your specialty. Anything that got too hard or scary, you ran. The unknown was big. How were you supposed to act and behave if you didn't know what would come next? You could handle the unknown when you felt secure with Wanda. She always seemed to know what to do. Her security pulled you in. It all had disappeared lately and you were in search of it once again. Tearful, you knocked on Natashas' door harshly. As you waited for her to answer you grew self-conscious. Suddenly aware that you were standing outside her door, dressed in Wanda's shorts and hoodie, not wearing a bra. Remembering last night you assumed there were probably marks on your visible body as well. You crossed your arms, turning a bright shade of red when Natasha opened the door. The sun was just beginning to creep above the horizon which made her face glow.
“Hey…?” You spoke softly and your voice cracked as tears began to fall once again as you saw the confusion on Natashas' face turn to concern. She quickly pulled you inside and made fast work of trying to comfort you.
“Detka…what's wrong?” she spoke gently, the nickname falling all too easily off her tongue. Instead of saying anything you practically fell into her embrace, wrapping your arms tightly around her as your head tucked down and rested beneath her chin, tears falling rapidly as you sobbed. Seeing your state a ping hit Natashas' chest as she suddenly got nervous. “Did she hurt you?” There was hesitation in her voice yet she was firm in finding out the answer. You gasped at her question, the idea of Wanda ever even laying a hand on you non-consensually, was unfathomable to you. Shaking your head quickly she sighed a breath of relief as she shut the door, gently guiding you inside. You clung to her tightly and she awkwardly moved the two of you to her couch. She sat down before pulling you gently next to her. You didn't take much prompting as you practically sat on her, clinging tightly. She began to rub your back up and down in an attempt to quiet your sobs. While they slowed they never ceased completely. Her hand slid gently under your shirt and rested on your bare back, trying to continue the movements when you stopped her.
“No.” You murmured as you lifted your head for a second looking into her eyes. You reached behind your back, placing her hand back on top of your shirt. You wiped the tears from your face with open palms and sniffled before laying your head back down. She got the hint and continued her slow patterns up and down as you calmed down. When your sobs calmed and turned into quiet sniffling she finally attempted to ask what was wrong.
“Detka…” she tried again, and you grumbled snuggling closer.
“Don't call me that.” You said firmly and pulled your phone out, declining a call from work as you set your phone on the coffee table next to you. You sniffled and buried your head in the crook of her neck, closing your eyes. Natasha, at a loss of what to do let you stay in that position. When she felt you drift off to sleep she smiled a little at the sight and pulled you closer. Just after you fell asleep your phone began to ring, Wanda. Asleep, you had no idea. Natasha had to decide, she took a second. She hesitated as she reached over to the coffee table. When she saw who was calling her eyes flickered back and forth between you and the phone. She slowly set the phone upside down, ignoring the call. Unbenounced to you Wanda was growing increasingly worried and anxious at you being gone. She had taken up pacing back and forth between the living room, her phone held to her ear as she dialed your number repeatedly. After the tenth call with still no response she had an idea of where you had been. Despite how she seemed, she wasn't angry. She was scared, scared something had happened to you. But also confused. What had she done? Above all the familiar feeling of self-consciousness grew in her chest. Ignoring everything in the house she tore through to the door. As she got closer to Natasha’s house her concern grew, her power setting off nearby car alarms.
When the phone calls ceased and the lights flickered in the house Natasha knew Wanda was nearby, and upset. The door flung open, breaking the hinges with a loud bang. You startled awake at the loud noise, a loud gasp leaving your lips. In a panic you sat up, your attention immediately drawn to the front door, Wanda, standing in the doorway.
“What is going on here?” She demanded firmly as she stalked over to the two of you on the couch, unnecessarily close. This wasn’t Wanda anymore. This was Mommy. Her tone was demanding and firm, but it had a sweet sultry tone that dripped as she spoke. You’d always noticed the more worked up Wanda got, the more her accent came through. This was surely one of those times. When neither of you answered fast enough to her liking she asked again. “I asked a question.” She reached out her hand. You had expected her to touch you, to grab your chin. Instead, she reached towards Natasha. Her fingers gently reached under her chin, lifting it slightly as she made deep eye contact with the other girl.
“She came here this morning!” Natasha stuttered quickly. “She just fell asleep!” She explained with an urgency and demeanor you had never seen from her before. You watched the sight before you, surprisingly curious as you tugged your bottom lip into your mouth. Wanda’s hand raised from off her chin before delivering a slap to Natasha’s cheek. Natasha yelped at the hit, causing you to flinch. You could feel the tension as the two of them interacted. Wanda’s hand gently rubbed and soothed where she had just hit as Natasha leaned into her touch, her legs pressing together in anticipation. The sight in front of you made you squirm. You physically felt your breath hitch in your chest when Wanda leaned forward and kissed Natasha. There was no jealousy behind your eyes as you watched the two of them, their kiss becoming more heated by the second. You squirmed next to them, your legs pressing together as you gnawed on your bottom lip, waiting impatiently in anticipation for your turn. When Wanda finally pulled away her breath heaved slightly as she caught her breath.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Wanda said as she stood up and smoothed out her shirt. “Natasha, you are going to go to your room and wait for us in bed. We are going to have a little chat then join you up there. Okay?” She said it in a tone that sounded as if she was asking but she wasn’t. Natasha just nodded and glanced at you before carefully standing and quietly heading to her room. When she left you looked up at Wanda with wide innocent eyes.
“Mine.” You mumbled as you grabbed Wanda’s hand, tugging her down into a passionate kiss. She straddled your lap happily as she kissed you back, her tongue wasting no time as it brushed against your bottom lip, seeking entrance. You happily obliged, allowing her tongue to take control. “Mine.” You mumbled again, into the kiss this time as your hands reached around her waist, squeezing her sides lightly.
“Yes, all yours Detka.” She said as she slowly pulled away from the kiss. She dragged her finger across your jaw, tracing her fingers across your face. It was as if she was trying to memorize it. As if you would disappear in her fingers at any second. Her breath grew shaky as tears brimmed her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. She took a second, closing her eyes for a second before opening them, a fresh tear falling slowly but beautifully down her cheek. “You left this morning.” She said in a whisper, any louder, she feared would break her. “Why?” In the second part, she spoke even softer. Each word felt like a chore as it left her body. You felt your blood rushing in your ears, just as it always did when you got anxious or scared. Your hands reached up gently holding her face. Your thumbs brushed across her cheeks, wiping away the tear that had fallen as you kissed her cheekbone tenderly.
Your jaw shook as you opened your mouth to speak. “I left before you could.” You said, in a level just above a whisper. “I left before you could remember how mad we were.” You paused, sucking in a quick breath, the noise in your ears getting louder. “How mad you were.” You admitted quietly, the guilt and setting in for what you had done. Wanda frowned, her eyebrows crinkling ever so slightly twisting into an even sadder expression.
“You think I’m going to leave you?” She asked as her fingertips paused on your face. “Detka I would never.” She assured. “I’m not mad at you.” She smiled sadly. “I mean, I have been mad.” She admitted carefully. “But only because I’m scared.” She looked away, breaking eye contact for the first time since the conversation started. She pulled her hands away to wipe her face. “Scared you’re going to leave me. For her.” Wanda said quietly as she glanced at the stairs and then back to you. You couldn’t shake your head quick enough.
“No!” You exclaimed quickly, a little louder than either of you had expected, causing a sad giggle. “Wanda no, no, never. I love you so much. I just.” You stuttered out of shock. “Absolutely not.” You said as you brought your hands back to her face, turning it towards you. “Wanda, you are the love of my life. I can never even imagine leaving you for any reason, let alone another woman. I don’t even want to imagine it!” You sniffled before leaning closer and resting your forehead against hers.
“I love you too.” She whispered before kissing you. It was a tender kiss, sweet, and simple. She pulled away for a second and chuckled breathily as she wiped your tears away. “Stop crying and kiss me Detka.” She whispered with a little smile before kissing you again, more passionately this time.
After several minutes of kissing you remembered to Natasha upstairs. You paused, pulling away and pressing a finger to Wanda’s lips.
“Natasha?” You whispered with a question in your voice about what was going to happen in that situation. Wanda seemed to have an idea. Her hands snaked under your sweatshirt slowly and she kissed the tip of your finger.
“I think it would be good to get the temptation out of the way.” She admitted, her hands rubbing your sides as they moved upward. “I also think it would be good for me to gain a little control in that whole situation.” She said, a small smile coming across her lips. “How do you feel about that?” She asked it was a genuine question and she was looking for your honest response.
“I like that idea.” You said as a dark blush crept across your cheeks. Wanda hummed happily when she heard your response.
“I expect you to use your safe word if anything crosses any lines. Okay?” She said firmly as her fingers stopped beneath your bra, she needed you focused for the rest of the conversation. You nodded quickly at her instruction, trying not to get too distracted by the thought of what was about to happen. “Is there anything different you don’t want happening in there?” She asked and you thought for a second. Your face blushed even darker and your head fell to her shoulder in an attempt to hide it. You nodded a little and she slid her hands down your sides, needing to know your thoughts. You were embarrassed to admit them but she prodded anyway, knowing it was necessary. “Detka. What is it?” She asked, letting your head stay where it was if it would make it easier.
You hesitated before quietly admitting it. “I don’t want her mouth.” You paused and built up further courage. “I don’t want her eating you out.” You stated a deep red blush on your face at having to admit that out loud. She didn’t laugh at you as you had expected though. Instead, she smiled understandingly.
“That’s yours huh?” She asked with a smile, causing you to nod on her shoulder, your face nuzzling into her neck as you began to place soft kisses on her sensitive skin. “Anything else?” She asked, knowing she would have control of what went on up there and could set her boundaries for herself. When you shook your head she hummed, pleased. You pulled back and kissed her again, sighing happily into a kiss. You found yourself distracted by Wanda’s hands trailing up your shirt again. Suddenly you pulled away with wide eyes and began to laugh. Wanda looked confused before realizing it.
“How long has she been waiting up there?” You asked between giggles as you covered your mouth at the realization.
#mommy wanda#wanda#wanda maximoff#wandavision#wanda marvel#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maxmoff x y/n#wanda x reader#scarlet witch#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#wandanat x reader#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#wandanat
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leveling the playing field X
summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.1k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there
masterlists // nav // requests
a/n: hi all!! i have some slightly annoying news (I'm so sorry) but i think i have to close my taglist for this fic and for other coryo stuff (which i am working on bc I've seen the requests!!) bc its gone up almost 150 people and i can only tag 50 people per post and it is SO much work to tag everyone individually even after i paste them in and i don't want to have to reblog it 2 or 3 times to tag everyone :(. I'm so sorry like i said ik its annoying but if you'd like to be the first to know ab new parts and you're not already in my taglist, feel free to turn on my post notifs!! that way you'll also see everything else including my asks ab the fic where i answer more questions and we talk theories and all that fun stuff :)
next part
Coriolanus was having a hard time adjusting to the life of a peacekeeper, but he was getting there. He sent off that letter for you almost as soon as he arrived, but was yet to receive a response so that seemed like an answer enough. He had to forget you, especially if he wasn't going back to the Capitol anytime soon.
He was homesick, to say the very least. Both of his bunkmates were out, likely working, but he didn't care much to know exactly where. He was just relieved to have a moment to himself to wallow in his self-pity, chest constricting tighter and tighter with every breath.
A door slammed shut down the hall, followed quickly by his own door opening- at which he held his breath. He had to get it together.
"Is this bunk taken?" Someone asks, a voice not belonging to either of his bunkmates, but he recognizes it nonetheless.
He shot up straight, taking in the appearance of the boy in front of him. "Sejanus!" He had never been happier to see his classmate, hopping out of his top bunk to quickly give him a hug.
"This is a surprisingly warm welcome for someone who almost got you killed." Sejanus chuckled, hugging him back.
Coryo laughs slightly, pulling away and grabbing his shoulders. "Oh, no. Quite the opposite. What are you doing here?"
"About the same as you." He shrugs, sliding his things under the bed below Coryo's. "They were going to expel me, but my dad paid them for my grad certificate and let them send me here. They got a new gym on the condition that they let us both graduate."
Coryo should be relieved, but a graduation certificate doesn't matter much if he's stuck here for the next twenty years. "And Y/N/N?" He asks.
"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, lifting his head back in confusion. "What about her?"
"Did she graduate too?"
"I... I don't know, I didn't know she was in trouble. We were told she was sick."
Coriolanus's stomach drops. That's a story he'd certainly heard before, and he didn't like at all how that ended. He swallows, nodding a little bit as he looks at the floor. "So you didn't see her at all?"
"No... Not since the last time I saw you." Sejanus states. It had been a few weeks now. "But, her mother came to our door a week or so ago, real early in the morning. Ma shooed me away but I heard them talking, it seemed like she didn't know where Y/N was either. She was looking for her, wondering if any of us had seen her."
Again, this is what Coryo had seen before with what happened to Clemensia. Her parents weren't allowed to see her at all while she was in the hospital. "I think she's dead." He admits.
"What? What makes you say that?" His friend gasps.
"I... I heard her screaming when I left our meeting with Highbottom." Coriolanus explains. "At first it was normal Y/N screaming, you know, but then it got worse and worse until it just... stopped." He hoped Sejanus would change his story, that he would remember seeing you at school or on the streets or at one of your parent's obnoxious parties, having a good time, and being yourself. That maybe he had just forgotten, but the look on Sejanus's face tells him that didn't happen.
It was Sejanus's turn to look down now, giving a solemn nod. "I mean, no." He laughs suddenly, shaking his head. "They wouldn't kill her on campus- if you could hear it, she's not dead. They wouldn't kill her just like that, right?" He says, trying to convince himself of that truth. "Surely she's just sick. Maybe grounded, or something."
"Yeah, yeah. Probably..." Coriolanus concedes, hoping that somehow Sejanus was right.
Simultaneously, you were adjusting beautifully to life in District Twelve. You got in the habit of borrowing Lucy Gray and Barb Azure's clothes, and they let you sleep on the floor between their beds. For the first time in your life, you were free. No one knew you, no one had a single expectation of you besides Tam Amber appreciating your help with the goats and occasionally going to the market with Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory to get food. It was refreshing, to say the very least. Everyday you felt yourself unwinding more and more.
"Do you play any instruments, Y/N?" Maude Ivory asks you, skipping to catch up to you as you hike down a trail out to the lake with the rest of the covey.
"I do, actually." You nod at her, a small smile on your face. "Try three."
"Three!" She claps excitedly. "What do you play? You'll have to perform with us! Do they have different instruments where you're from?"
"Not really." You giggle, putting your hands in the pockets of your bright red skirt. "I play the piano, and the violin, which is just like Clerk Carmine's fiddle, but much more boring, and a harp, if you've ever heard of that."
"You play the fiddle?" The young girl smiles.
"Not like he does." You smile at the boy as he walks ahead of you, not paying any attention.
"I'm sure you're just as well." Lucy Gray interjects, bumping her shoulder with yours as she walks next to you. "Maude Ivory, you should hear her projection. I'm yet to hear her sing, but boy, can she yell."
"I can't sing." You laugh, shaking your head. "Back home you don't sing unless you're training for the opera, and you have to start that around the same time you learn to walk. My parents would rather me learn the piano."
"Then why am I the one yellin' at all our shows? You should step up." Maude Ivory giggles, and you just shake your head, ruffling her hair.
"I definitely couldn't do it nearly as well as you." You insist. "Besides, I have stage fright." You joke, mostly to get her off your back.
She laughs as she fixes her hair, running to catch up with the kids in front of her.
"She just adores you." Lucy Gray smiles. "It's nice to have a new face around."
You smile, watching Maude Ivory collect flowers from the side of the road. "She reminds me of my brother. They're about the same age."
"Right, you lent me his guitar." Lucy Gray says, a particular sadness in her tone tipping you off that she believes you should be upset about leaving him. You miss him, sure, but he's better off now with you gone. Besides, he couldn't be any worse than you. Your parents have always doted over him, and there's no doubt in your mind that now that you are gone, it's multiplied.
"Yes. That's him." You reply, accompanying a moment of silence between the two of you.
"Do you miss him?"
"Sure." You nod, kicking a small stone down the path in front of you. "But he's better off without me there. That brings me enough peace to sleep at night."
"Hey, can I ask you something?"
"Shoot." You smile at her, grateful for the change of topic.
"What happened to Coriolanus?" For the first time in weeks, you feel a pinch of discontent in your gut at her question.
"I don't know." You lie, shrugging your shoulders. You don't even know why you felt the urge to lie at all, you knew he was here somewhere but you hadn't seen him once. Out of sight, out of mind is what you have been trying to convince yourself. "He's alive, I'm sure. Peacekeeping in one of the districts probably."
"Oh, I was hoping you would know more."
"It would be nice." You agree. "But he's not exactly in my good graces at the moment."
"It feels so out of character for him to betray you like that, doesn't it?" Lucy Gray asks.
You laugh, shaking your head. "It was unusual. That's what I thought, anyway." You sigh, giving a slight shrug. "I haven't told anyone, but we had... I don't know, a moment, a few weeks ago. During the games. Just a couple of days later and he's throwing me under the bus like I meant nothing to him. We've been friends for years- I thought everything was about to change for the better, and then..."
"That's cruel." She says disapprovingly. "I bet he's sorry now that you're gone with the wind. He's regretting it. I promise you that much."
You smile slightly at the thought, allowing yourself to entertain it, if only for a moment. "He better be."
"Is that for me? Oh, c'mon y'all, you know that I gave up drinkin' when I was twelve..." Lucy Gray says, taking a sip out of the clear liquor bottle someone in the audience handed to her. "Oh, It's to clear my pipes, just to clear my pipes." She clarifies, tossing the bottle back into the audience.
Coriolanus watches leaning against the side wall of The Hob. He's happy to see that Lucy Gray is back to doing what she loved, and she made it home alive and well. He's also more than pleased to finally get off the barracks for something other than work. "Now, who's ready for a song, huh?" She smiles, looking down off the stage to her right. "Okay, comin' right up. First, I'd like to introduce to the stage with a big welcome, a grand ole friend of mine, The lovely Sage!" She says, giggling at her rhyme as another girl climbs up on stage, giving Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray a quick hug each.
Coriolanus looks away as the crowd cheers, scanning the crowd for Sejanus who had just excused himself to grab a drink a couple minutes ago. He's wondering where his roommate could have disappeared to when Lucy Gray's friend starts speaking.
"Well hello, everyone, so lovely to meet you all! I have never felt so welcome anywhere." His head snaps back to the stage. He'd know that Capitol accent anywhere, even as you pause to allow any cheers to quiet down. "I mean that." You grin, hands clutched to your chest. "And that feels so good, considering Lucy Gray all but forced me up here." You laugh, draping an arm over her shoulder, letting her take back over. How could this be real? Coryo is tempted to rub his eyes or pinch himself to make sure he's even awake. He was so sure you were dead, but despite the different name and completely different clothes, he was positive it was you. The pang in his chest made that obvious, along with the wave of surrealism that suddenly surrounded him so all he could see was you.
"Now, my beautiful girl Sage here will be taking over for our friend on the fiddle, we'll give the band a quick break, and we're gonna have a bit of a change of pace while she's lending us her talents." Lucy Gray says, and Coriolanus watches as you take the beat-up violin from the young boy gratefully. He knew you played, but he hadn't heard it for years. You looked so calm, something he wasn't sure he had seen in public since you were young. He can't pull his eyes from your figure as it graces the stage with your presence, lighting up the room even if it was only for him.
A small smile grows on his face as you start to play, several whistles echoing through the room before Lucy Gray even joins in with her singing. He wants to scream, to cheer and clap and yell and tell everyone in this dark, rundown building that this 'Sage' was his. Inarguably and undoubtedly his. Coryo's pride is only curtailed when he recognizes the song; it was the ballad Lucy Gray played in her interview on your brother's guitar.
The sophistication your violin playing brought to the piece almost made it sadder and infinitely more haunting. It's beautiful. Now with your classical touch, the song sets a pit of guilt in his stomach. That somehow, even without you singing, it's now a ballad from you to him.
"Just let me remind you what I am to you..."
He makes eye contact with Lucy Gray as he shifts his gaze away from you. She pauses for only a moment, hands still moving rhythmically over the strings of her guitar. She smiles and nods at him, jaw slightly agape as she glances back at you to see if you noticed him. When it's clear you haven't, she gets back on track with the words within only a moment.
"'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. I am the one who knows how you were brave..." Your lips turn up in a small smile as she sings, eyes still shut while you focus. Even though he's sure you're thinking of him, it doesn't bring him much consolation. Well, at least you were thinking of him. He would take it.
The song ends as quickly as it starts, and despite the slower tone, the audience is still excited. More so as the band returns to the stage and you return the violin to Clerk Carmine before turning back around to give a bow. You wave out to the audience, reveling in the whistles and praise before reaching out for an extended hand, accepting it as its owner helps you down. "That was stunnin', where'd you learn to play like that? I've never heard anything quite like it." The man asks, still holding your hand out in between you.
"Oh, thank you. I've been playing my whole life." You grin as the music picks up again.
"Can you dance like you can play?" He asks, lifting your arm to spin you.
"I can certainly try." You laugh, going along with it as he pulls you into a more open space of the crowd, and to Coriolanus, it seems like you're taunting him. You're dancing like you don't have a care in the world, dressed in a skirt that looked like it was made out of a red bed sheet cut up and stitched back together in half-hazard squares, and what looked like one of your t-shirts cut up into a tank top that exposes most of your stomach and back. Appallingly too, a smile present on your face that he had dreamt of seeing again one day but was certain he never would. The only problem is that you're dancing with someone else. Not that he was much of a dancer, but he could try if he had known that's what you wanted.
He's planning his method of attack. He can't leave without speaking to you, because he doesn't even know if you'll be back here the next time he gets a day off. Though, based on your appearance and newfound carelessness, it's likely.
His urge is just to kiss you, but the only thing holding him back is that it could set you off. If you hadn't heard his apology from miles away, would you still be angry at him? But actions speak louder than words. He knows that physicality works with you, and it was hard to deny that he hadn't dreamt of how soft your lips felt on his for weeks. One time was just simply not enough for Coryo.
Coriolanus scowls as the man you're dancing with spins you again, making you laugh as he drapes an arm around your waist.
Maybe he should get Sejanus, see if he's seen you yet.
Another spin, and a hand sliding lower down your bare back as the man pulls you closer, his fingers landing on the waistband of your skirt. When was the last time that scumbag had so much as washed his hands? Coryo wonders to himself, rage boiling up under his skin.
Kiss her. Definitely kiss her.
But if the song choice was any indicator, you definitely weren't pleased with him. It couldn't be, though, because how would you know he would be in attendance? Coryo finds his feet carrying him through the crowd, pushing past a dozen carelessly drunk people in his effort to get to you before he's even thought it all through.
Your brow furrows as a body forces itself between you and your dancing partner. "Hey! What are you-" You cut yourself off, hypnotized by the cold blue eyes staring down at you.
That's my girl. Even though you're angry, Coriolanus is grateful to be the object of your gaze once more.
"'Scuse me, man, do you mind?" The man says, making an effort to push Coryo away. He turns, and before you can intervene he's swinging his fist right at the other guy's face, finding its target in a fraction of a second.
He stumbles back, grabbing his face as it immediately drips blood from his nose onto the floor. There are gasps in the crowd as it disperses around you.
"Hey, settle down, settle down now." You hear Lucy Gray call out amidst the music playing in the background while you grab the back of Coryo's shirt, pulling him back before he continues to beat up your dancing partner.
"Coriolanus, what are you doing here?" You shout over the music. He shakes out his fist, turning back to you now and grabbing your face, pulling you closer to kiss you instead of dignifying you with a response. His actions would certainly speak louder.
You want to be angry, but that falters as you feel his lips on yours again, his hands planted firmly on either side of your waist as he holds onto you so tight you weren't sure breathing was an option- even if you could. You followed him here, of course you wanted to see him, but how could he betray you so easily and expect forgiveness in a kiss?
It takes you longer than it probably should to build up the courage to place your hands on his chest, shoving him back. "What is wrong with you?" You spit, looking him up and down in the blue uniform signified of a peacekeeper off duty.
"What's wrong with me?" He asks, looking around and gauging how many people were even taking notice. "What do you mean, Y/N/N, I wanted to-" Clearly you hadn't heard his silent apology, or it just wasn't enough.
"Hey!" You hiss, jumping at him and attempting to cover his mouth at the use of your nickname, and he quickly swats away your hand. "Let's go. Outside, now." You shove him back by his chest, pointing towards the exit.
You look up at Lucy Gray on stage, still singing as she watches you nervously. You give her a nod and a small reassuring smile before linking arms with Coryo and guiding him toward the door. Just like old times.
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i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just cant tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!
#tbosas#tbosas fic#tbosas x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x reader#the hunger games#thg fanfic#thg fanfiction#thg series#coryo snow
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so scarlet, it was...
➔ post-outbreak Joel Miller x afab!Reader - series masterlist
➔ 1.3k words
➔ “Go ahead, yell your fucking head off. That’ll make everything okay, won’t it?”
➔ Rated MA for dark fic kinda, a/b/o themes (alpha joel, omega reader), established... situationship? i guess, pregnancy/contemplation of termination, contemplation of self harm, reader is not in a good headspace. one instance of vomiting, joel is not very nice, this fic in general is not very nice. takes place three years post outbreak. [please let me know if i missed any warnings so i can add them in :)]
➔ thank you so much to my darling @bitchwitch1981 for the prompt, i'm so sorry this is probably very much not what you wanted 🤣 extra special thank you to @perotovar for making this wonderful joel gif for me, if ur reading this ily <3
You’ve never actually used one of these things before. You’ve only read about them in books or seen them in movies from years ago, and they’ve only ever been an object of abject horror.
You understand why now, looking down at those two little lines on the stick cradled in your hand. You’ve never been quite so terrified in your life.
You never should’ve pocketed this test when you found it in that miraculously untouched drug store. You could’ve stayed blissfully unaware. Better yet, you should’ve been more careful. Three years of living like this has been more than enough to make you firm in your decision to never bring life into this broken world. This isn’t a place for a child, this is barely even a place for you. Every day is a fight, every waking moment is a nightmare. But you’ve been so careless with him and now it’s all crashing down, this blissful bubble where you can pretend that everything might be okay because you have the pack and, more importantly, him.
You won’t have him for much longer when he finds out about this.
You wonder what it’ll take to right this wrong before he finds out about it. It must be pretty early, so maybe it won’t take much to reverse it. Maybe all you’ll have to do is bump into something just right, or trip over the right log.
The thought makes you sick–more stomach bile than anything else coming up because you’ve hardly had more to eat than stale beef jerky and some precarious berries in the past few days. Resources have been so slim; another reason this can’t be happening. You hardly have enough to tide you over, much less a child. And it’ll be even worse once the pack abandons you.
You bury yourself into the haphazard nest of blankets and his worn clothes, letting the heavy, musky scent of him soothe your wracking sobs.
Maybe you should just accept your fate now, sacrifice yourself for the good of the pack. Everyone is going to die eventually, after all–sooner rather than later in this world. You’ve only been postponing the inevitable. They never have to know why you do it, and it’ll be one less mouth to feed. Two, technically, but they’ll never have to know that. He won’t even really miss you, it’ll be one less burden on his hands. On all of their hands.
You don’t hear them return early from scavenging–maybe because the volume of your own sobs drowns out any other noise. Or maybe because he can sense something is wrong as he enters the run-down little shack you’ve been holed up in for the past few weeks, and he softens his approach because of it.
Joel has never been quite as tender as he is when he takes you into his arms, pulling your face out of the pile of fabric to wipe at your tear-streaked cheeks.
“My omega, shhhh, I’m here. It’s okay,” he murmurs, wrapping you into his big, strong, safe arms. He doesn’t know. Maybe he thinks you had a nightmare, or you just missed him, or a million other things except the truth. But he doesn’t know, and you know he doesn’t know because you feel the moment he connects the dots. His eyes drop to the little white stick clutched tightly in your fist and his entire body stiffens like a board. Suddenly there’s no more warmth or comfort to his touch, nothing soothing about the pheromones drifting from him. He pulls away like you’re infected, and maybe you are. Maybe the thing that’s taken root in you is worse than cordyceps could ever hope to be.
You’ve never been terrified of him before. Joel is dark and brooding and imposing, but he’s only ever fought to protect you. His omega, who wormed their way under his skin despite him fighting it every step of the way. His omega, who’s been the only source of anything remotely close to comfort he’s had since outbreak day. His omega, who’s given him purpose in this dark world.
His omega, who’s betrayed him in such an unforgivable way.
“What the fuck.” There’s nothing but venom in his tone–he looks at you with pure disgust and your resolve crumbles.
Maybe there was a little, tiny, miniscule part of you that hoped it would be different. That he would be excited to be a father, or at least be understanding. But that hope dies so suddenly when you look up into his scowling face. He towers over you, dark eyes flashing with anger, and for the first time since you met him two long years ago you’re scared.
“You were supposed to be careful.” His voice rises further and further with each syllable, as if this isn’t partially his fault too. As if he wasn’t the one in such an uncontrollable rut last month that he kept you in bed all week, losing the willpower required to pull out with each powerful thrust of his hips. As if it isn’t his seed blooming in your womb as you speak.
“What do we do now, huh?” He growls, eyes darkening, fists clenching at his sides. “I’ve fucking marked you, I can’t turn you loose! And we barely make it by as we are! How the fuck are we supposed to handle this?”
He rants for what seems like hours and you flinch with every booming word, curling tighter around yourself in a desperate attempt to simply disappear; to not have to deal with this any more because your heart shatters with each irreversible word he throws at you. You shrink and shrink and shrink in hopes of vanishing because this is undoable. No matter what happens, nothing will ever go back to the way it was and that’s the knowledge that crushes you completely.
Your voice is so small when he finally quiets enough for you to speak. “Go ahead, yell your fucking head off. That’ll make everything okay, won’t it?”
Joel stops in his tracks, white knuckles unclenching for the first time in minutes. He sees the fear and regret in your eyes, and he almost lets it soften him. He loathes himself for this look on your face–for making you scared of him.
His omega. So small and fragile, curled in a pile of his clothes because his scent brings you comfort. He’s dedicated two years of his time and effort to keeping you safe and comfortable, if not happy. He’s supposed to protect you, not hurt you. He’s supposed to give you children and raise them with you, be a family with you. That’s what being your alpha means, and he has so sorely failed you.
But he knows he can never do that again. That’s never what this was supposed to be. He didn’t mark you out of anything but necessity–if he had let your uncontrolled scent waft every time you went into heat, every alpha in the country would be targeting your little pack of four. You’re his omega out of biological necessity–a warm hole to fill when his rut threatens to tear already strenuous ties with his brother and Tess. That’s what he tells himself because the alternative is so startlingly incomprehensible that he won’t allow himself to even consider the fact that he might care about you; that the urge to care for you and protect you is more than primal, biological instinct; that you mean more to him than anyone ever has.
Not just his omega now, but his mate. His unborn child is growing and growing and growing with each passing second inside your womb and he’s powerless to stop it.
“We’re thirty-seven miles from the Boston QZ,” he growls from somewhere deep in his chest. “We leave at first light.”
You don’t get a chance to argue or plead your case before the door slams shut behind him.
➔ beta: @beskarandblasters and @fhatbhabie
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#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#alpha!joel miller#the last of us fic#joel miller fic#dark fic#the last of us#tlou#joel tlou#cece writes#series: maroon
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WOWOWOWOW REQS R OPEN AGAIN !!!!! 💘 could i get a top!chloe price x bottom!fem reader where chloe is just pussy starved and literally begs the reader to let her hit after weeks ? i'm bad at requesting stuff so sorry if this makes zero sense ����
━ 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓
𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Chloe Price x Fem!Reader
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - smut, oral, v fingering, kissing? i don't remember, fluff, cursing, yahooooooooooooo
𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - it made sense i promise!! ty <3
The past month had been quite the predicament.
For Chloe that is.
First, you were sick.
Laying in bed for a week and a half with Chloe doting on you hand and foot. Cuddling you and not caring if she herself caught your horrible bug.
Second, she got sick.
It only lasted a few days compared to your own sickness. But you did the same care for her now that you were healthy. Waiting on her and snuggling her back to an okay state. Though, she complained a lot more than you did, which is to be expected when you're dealing with her.
Third, you were always working.
To be fair, one of you had to leave the house to make the money. Chloe usually worked out of the driveway repairing any sort of vehicle she could get her hands on to earn bank. But that meant she got to stay home, you didn't, usually.
Fourth... fuck she couldn't remember the fourth reason.
Laying here, Chloe stared up at the ceiling with tired and droopy eyes while focusing on her calculations of how long she'd been abstinent. Her head tilting up to then focus on your body that was sat just to the upper right of her.
You were on your phone, which she expected, but it still looked boring as hell. Internally in that moment, she groaned, rolling her eyes on the outside. Which, unfortunately, she realized too quickly you seen.
"What's wrong, baby?" You asked both sincerely and not.
Sadly, when she glanced up at you again, you were focused on the screen as you asked her. A huff of air passing her lips and making a strand of her hair bounce off her face and hover above for a split second.
"I miss you." She said blandly, tapping her blue nail on the back of her other hand.
"I'm right here, Chloe."
"I feel like a virgin!"
Your lines overlapped, laughter escaping your throat at her puff and groan of annoyance just below. Her body beginning to roll until she was in the position to climb up and get closer to you.
"Most people can wait until marriage." You raised your eyebrow at her, taking your focus away from your phone. "That's years Chlo, your two weeks is nothing, I promise." She wasn't having none of this though, grabbing your thigh dramatically in response.
"I'm not waiting for marriage though, I just wanna fuck." You sighed at her words, going back to your phone. "You know better than to ask like that."
Yes she did.
"Oh c'mon, please Y/n."
That was better, but still not enough. She knew it too because not even five seconds passed before she followed up with,
"Please let me fuck you."
That's also was got you into your predicament.
Her head between your legs, and her mouth latched to your cunt with an unrelenting pace that made you feel as though you may explode. Like she was starved, and in her reality, she was.
Her grip dug into your skin and her tongue into your hole, your third orgasm creeping around the corner and causing you to shake in her hold. Strands of her faded aqua dye looped around your fingers and was sure to need detangled later on, the knots already beginning between each of your knuckles.
"Fuck- oh fuck, that's my girl..." You whispered, whining a bit between the words while trying not to run from her face. Chloe's cheeks burning from the praise despite her claims to not have a praise kink.
"So good Chloe... you're so fucking good..."
Chloe couldn't respond even if she wanted to, her face was forced into your wetness. Not that she had much argument against it, she was right where she wanted to be, but more flustered then she imagined.
This was her heaven.
"Oh my God Chloe-" Her tongue moved in a way that was written as pure desperation. Your heels digging into the mattress so hard it began to make them hurt, not that you cared.
You were close, griding against her face for more. Her lips pressing harsh kisses to your clit each time you pushed against her.
"Fucking hell Chloe..." She muttered something, looking up bashfully to see your water covered eyes. "What was that pretty girl?" You tugged her back, wanting to hear what she had to say.
"You taste really fucking good."
Your grin made her heart jump, breath held.
"Is that so?"
Chloe continued tongue fucking you as you loosened your grip. Another ripple of pleasure clawing through your body as you moaned.
"I see why you were so damn desperate now."
But that was when her fingers dug in and you realized you had no more control. Legs shaking as she took over your entire being,
#chloe price x reader#chloe x reader#chloe price smut#chloe price#life is strange x reader#life is strange
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a constant sickness.
| N.R
Warnings: mental breakdown at the end, overthinking, being sensitive while horribly sick, mention of throwing up, headaches, r loves orcas(?)
Summary: While Nat was away at a SHIELD meeting, you had gotten sick once again. Having been sick for the millionth time in the past few months, you were tired.
Word Count: 6.4k
Category: Fluff, maybe a little hurt/comfort later on
A/N: I guess you could say this is a vent fic? I've been sick a lot, and it isn't fun, so I ended up making this. please drink water everyone and take care of yourself. love you all <3
| Started on 07/11/2023, 6:11 PM |
| Finished on 19/11/2023 8:07 AM |
Masterlist | N.R Masterlist
“darling, you have been so strong. so please,
lay down and let yourself rest for a while.”
|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|
The morning birds sang a beautiful song, and the gray sky filled up the room with light. It came along with the rain, the glass windows fogged up from the cold.
The place beside you was empty as you were curled up asleep, all cozy, but missing the touch of a certain redhead.
Soon enough, your eyes slowly open, blinking away your sleep for a few minutes. But you instantly notice the horrid, miserable feeling of a sore throat.
Of course. You had gotten sick again. And the exact day Nat has a meeting. Why couldn't you get sick yesterday? You thought. Or tomorrow, in fact, she's free almost all day for this week.
You shake your head to get your mind to stop before it goes crazy. It's far too early in the morning for this. You stretch, wanting to get your tense muscles loose once again, but doing so just made you feel more tired.
Having woken up alone, you sigh. If you hadn't felt so horrible, then your morning would've been great. But, well, there's nothing much you could do.
Your hands gently grab the soft orca plushie Nat had bought for you just sitting at the end of the bed. Seeing as she wasn't present at the moment, you hug it.
It was quite precious to you, really. Nat didn't know what to get you one anniversary day, and she had thought about how once, when an animal documentary was randomly on the tv, it had videos of orcas just swimming, and jumping. She was in the kitchen while you sat in the living room, laid down sideways as you watched with shining eyes on the screen, like a child.
The adorable sounds that sure, yes, was a terrifying sound for the other animals in the ocean, as they were killer whales, still made you love them nonetheless. Nat smiled at you when she set down the meal she just finished cooking on the table, and called you to eat.
The memory serves as a comfort of sort. You always loved how deep Nat thought about her gifts, and you're always grateful. It wasn't much, but to you, it was everything. Truly, you could never think of having a better girlfriend than her.
Not long after you continued staying comfortably in bed, cuddling up with the orca plushie, your nose began to clog up, making you unable to breathe properly.
The uncomfortable feeling had forced you to get up, and once you were, everything was back to normal. Almost. It's always so annoying having a stuffy nose. You begrudgingly and slowly get out of bed, careful to not make yourself dizzy by going too fast. The target of the tissue box was in your sights, and you somehow make it even with your low energy.
The tissue easily slides out of the box when you grab it, and you blow into it, clearing your nose a bit. After pulling away, you groan a little in disgust and the realization that you'll have to do this again after another few minutes.
You throw out the used tissue into a nearby trash can, and just when you thought of sitting in bed or slumping into the desk chair just to stare out the window to watch cars go by, your stomach feels too empty.
Welp. Your mouth forms a tired pout, but before your stomach could even make any noise at you for not moving to get some food, you grab a nearby jacket and put it on. The warmth it provided surrounded you with a feeling of comfort and safety. As it should, considering the jacket was on Nat's side of the bed. Honestly, you can't tell which one is Nat's or yours anymore with how much the two of you share with each other by now.
You start to make your way out of the bedroom, and into the living room, the curtains already being open since Nat had left when the sun came up, while you were still sleeping.
The house lacked her presence. With you taking a glance at the kitchen, you had hoped to see her red hair basking in the morning sunlight, yet nothing but the kitchen counters and cabinets looked back at you.
You blink away the tiredness and dizziness that started to cloud your vision, and you went over to the kitchen, arriving suddenly somehow. The first thing you grabbed was a cup of water, drinking it and wincing at it going down your aching throat. The feeling soon dissolves into an itch that made you cough once or twice. Well, at least you were more awake now.
Considering a lot of options were out of the view because of your throat, you settled for bread, seeing as it was the softest thing you could find at the moment. You almost shakingly set down the plate on the table, because of how weak your body started to be from the fever, but you grab your choice of spread to put on with a butter knife anyway. Even if being sick meant you were tired, you still needed something to eat, otherwise you'd just get sicker. It wasn't much of a choice, really.
Once you had your meal ready, you sat down at the dining table, taking a bite of your sandwich. Here goes the awful long, long chewing as you tried your best not to have your stomach throw up whatever thats left within it.
You grab your phone as you ate, turning it on and opening your messages app. You click on Nat's contact, your fingers drifting off to type in some words that your head can barely even make out to be a sentence from the little dizziness.
<- Nat <3 [◉¯]
hey Nat, I got sick again. do you think
you can come home quicker? :(
I miss you
Sent at 9:37 AM
hi, darling <3 you're sick again?
I'm sorry detka, the earliest I can
get back is at 4
I'll see if I can sneak off earlier, but
try to get comfortable and watch some
tv my love. have you eaten?
I'll get you some things before I get home too. message me if anything happens, okay? I miss you too, and I love you
Read at 9:38 AM
it's okay, you don't have to
rush if you can't
I'm eating some bread right now
so yeah, don't worry
I love you too <3 get home safe.
Read at 9:38 AM
She didn't have to rush. Right? No, of course not. Maybe a little. You just didn't want to worry her. If we're being completely honest, it's not really okay considering how sick you were and how you were all alone in the house.
Your face had a sad smile. Having checked the time, it's going to feel like forever until she was home. You're just going to have to distract yourself in the meanwhile, and hope this one doesn't make you feel like going through hell.
You turn off your phone and set it down on the table, finishing up the last of your piece of bread. Since there's not much else you could do in the kitchen anymore, you leave the plate and cup in the sink.
The fever wasn't horrible at the moment, but you could already expect what'll happen later in the day. You thought of the little work you still haven't finished yet though.
Throwing up your hands in exasperation to, no one in particular, you walk back to the bedroom, seeing the desk you usually sit at near the window. At least the skies weren't bright. And maybe the rain will even come back, if you're lucky enough.
There were papers already ready on it for you to check and go over, having been taken by you when you were at work before.
You sat down on yet another chair, and the window casts a light upon everything on the desk, also giving the old wood a glow.
At least you can swivel and spin around in your desk chair. You grab a pen laying around, but you didn't start until you played a playlist of slow peaceful songs from your phone.
Everything was going fine as time passed by, but you're starting to feel worse. The day might have gone to lunch or brunch time by now, but you weren't done yet. Probably due to the many times you've spaced out, or somehow more papers just kept spawning in out of nowhere. It always feels never ending until you actually finish it all.
To make matters worse, you even feel an incoming headache upon you. You're definitely not finishing up those remaining papers today, that's for sure.
You end up giving up and leaving them on the desk, walking back out to the living room and into the kitchen to take some pills, hopefully letting the headache pass.
Afterwards, your legs lead you away to grab the orca plushie, just to go back out and plop down on the couch, grabbing the tv remote to put on the first thing you thought of that would distract you from the awful sickness.
It's starting to hit you now. The jacket you wore started to feel a little too warm, causing you to take it off one arm and the other, letting it fall down on the couch.
You could feel the mucus in your nose go down to your throat without being able to stop it. Knowing it did that and even feeling it irked you. You start coughing, the sound obvious with sickness.
Thankfully it was a short cough, and your eyes continue to focus on the screen once more, the scenes playing relaxing you. Your tense muscles loosened a little at the coziness of the living room, even if your nose was being annoying, and your throat makes you cough. You wished Nat was here. So, so badly. But it was still only 12 PM. Even if you're functional, it doesn't mean you don't feel awful.
The noises coming from the tv was quiet. Enough so that you're able to feel dozy. And not in the headache, dizzy way this time fortunately. Your eyes go from being light, to feeling heavy. Your focus also started to include your breathing without meaning to.
Soon, you gave in, surrendering to the darkness that that lured you into sleep.
|—————————— ⴵ ——————————|
Nat arrives home with a bag full of items she had gotten for you. She takes off her shoes and puts the plastic bag on the kitchen island, careful not to make anything fall the wrong way. After she was done with that, she turns to the living room, hearing noises that she would only presume would be the tv, just faintly. She takes off her jacket as she goes, placing it on the couch when she was close enough.
That was when she saw you, all curled up on the couch with the plushie she got you. The sight made her adore you, but also make her feel sad. She would only ever see you like this when you were super sick and tired, or waiting on her to come home.
It's only happened a few times, but a few was enough to make her understand how your fevers feel. A lot of people would just go with their day and deal with it, but you weren't the type of person to be able to. It's not that you wouldn't, you just couldn't. It always had a high chance of taking you the worst.
What made things more concerning is that you're falling sick more often, it's leading to be not normal. Others would say it's the seasons, but with your experience, it really isn't. Nat just hopes your body only hates you at the moment, and you'll get a longer break sometime soon.
Her feet takes her to stand in front of you and kneel down, her hand going up to lay gently against your forehead. The warmness you radiated makes her frown.
Your breathing started to lessen its softness, and you start waking up, possibly either from her presence, the hand on your forehead, or your throat starting to feel dry. Probably all the above.
Your eyes flutter open, and there you see the redhead you love so much right in front of you. Her green eyes looked at you so softly as you registered the scene you awoke to.
"Hi, детка (baby). You feeling okay?" She asks softly, her fingers drifting away to gently pull your hair away from your face. Even when she spoke Russian, her voice was caring.
That was when you were so willing to break, just seeing her looking at you so softly made all your courage to stay strong from the sickness had faltered. But you tried keeping the tears in.
You shook your head fatiguely, your eyes still tired. She knew the answer, but she hoped the sleep brought you more relief. Instead you got the worser effects. It was a chance of either being worse or your throat magically being better.
"That's okay. I got you orange juice and soup, дорогой (darling)." the drink made your face brighten up a little, but the soup almost made you scrunch up your nose in an act of disgust.
"Well, you don't wanna throw up, do you?" Nat raises an eyebrow at you. Her voice was gentle, so it wasn't scolding and it wasn't a threat. Maybe a little bit of a threat, but you needed one considering you know you'll end up feeling nauseous if you don't eat. It's a miserable feeling, even if afterwards you'll be able to get whatever sickness it is out of your system, the process for it isn't great.
You purse your lips and shake your head, the memories of having to go through the nausea being horrible. She gives you a small smile, and moves to stand up.
Nat helps you slowly stand up with her, holding you up with her arms and letting you put a little of your weight on her as you walked. She didn't trust how dizzy you looked when you stood up. You wouldn't either, because the room looked like it was dancing just a little.
She sits you down on the dining table, going off to open the plastic bag and get out the contents within it. First and foremost, she opens the orange juice bottle and pours it in a cup for you, placing it in front of you on the table.
You try and take ahold of it as calmly as possible, but Nat smiles at the small excitement she sees at you being able to drink orange juice. The juice goes down your throat easily, basically almost clearing the germs in some way.
It somehow always helps, and you were relieved it did. Nat's gotten everything out the bag by now, and she's working away on cooking up a delicious chicken soup for you.
As you watched her move in the kitchen, humming a melody to herself every now and then, you slowly drank, trying your best not to finish all the orange juice before you eat. Thankfully you had breakfast down earlier, so there wasn't much air in your stomach or anything to get the nausea to come back.
The time was 2:45 PM. Nat really did sneak away from the SHIELD work somehow. She would do anything for you after all. Or, Fury and Maria had known and dismissed her. Yes, it may just be a fever, but it's been far too many times now to count, so you'd guess they were pretty concerned too. And there was only one redhead who could truly take care of you.
Nat sets down the bowl of soup gently on your side of the table, while on her side she places down a bowl of mac and cheese. One in particular, you know Yelena would love. Your thoughts were wandering with people, but you did just get a nap after all. You may not have felt better, but your mind did clear up a bit more.
"Can I have a bit?" You ask, your voice groggy from the sore throat, but it makes out the sentence. The cheesy, but not too cheesy mac and cheese stared at you like it would melt in your mouth. It was too tempting and seemed way too delicious to not have a taste.
"Sure. Only a little," She said, aware of the fact that the cheese would probably make you cough more.
Nat looks at you amused as you took a spoonful, knowing you wouldn't be able to resist a bite. She didn't really get it to tease you or anything though, she just almost kind of misses Yelena. And she hasn't eaten any mac and cheese in a while. Plus, the blonde had always made the best mac and cheese.
She's been away doing widow work combined with some other assassin work. Nat wasn't entirely sure, but the jokes she tends to make are definitely missed by you. Though, you love Nat's company, love and the comfort she provides by herself just as much.
When you finish the spoon of mac and cheese you had just eaten earlier, you start on your soup with a smile on your face, satisfied at the taste. Nat was relieved. Sure, she wasn't as good as Yelena. No one was, to be honest, but the way your lips are turned up means you approved.
Your throat ends up letting out a cough once more after you swallowed, making you clear your throat to try and get rid of it. When it didn't work, you drank your orange juice. And of course, like magic there was no more bacteria spluttering. Or well, you hope so in the minutes that go by.
"You know, Yelena got a dog." Natasha says, wanting something to distract you a little from your sickness. And she's been wanting to talk to you about it ever since she got a call from Yelena at work. You look up at her with surprise and excitement.
"What? Really? Can I meet it??" Your questions spilled out one after another, excitement filling up your entire body at the new information. She lets out a small chuckle at your happiness.
"Yeah, she's coming back in a week." She mixes around the cheese with the macaronis more, having finished a layer of the outside, she had gotten to the less cheesier parts.
"Does the dog have a name?" Yes, you were excited about the other widow coming back, but at the moment you were very much distracted on the dog part.
Nat's lips purse at the memory of Yelena telling her the name she gave it. "Fanny." She says, with no other comment. The name being taken from the time she was in hiding during the 'Civil War between Captain America and Iron Man', as people called it... Fanny Longbottom. God, did Mason really not have any other choice than that one? That was Nat's thoughts, anyway.
You, on the other hand, giggled a little, careful not to laugh too much, or you'd end up in a coughing fit. "I love it. It reminds me of you a bit."
"Don't even speak about it." Nat responds playfully. Her eyebrows furrows, while her lips turn up into a smile. She shakes her head. She should've expected Yelena would've done such a thing after telling her her undercover name.
You had to take a moment to gather yourself, almost completely laughing at the thought you just had. "At least she didn't choose 'Longbottom'."
She laughs, the sound like a melody to you. Something that can easily, oh, so easily make it so that the fever you have wasn't just complete hell. "Can you imagine?" Nat says.
"What if she did? If we ever had to take care of it while she was away, all you'd ever hear is 'Longbottom! Longbottoooom'." You act out a scene of you calling the dog, possibly while Yelena would come over or leave it to the two of you to take care of it.
"Which would be you adoring it. But yes, Fanny isn't bad." Nat raises her eyebrows on her first sentence, but agrees with you on the name choice.
"No, it would be both of us." You counter her, knowing there isn't only one animal lover in this household you're living in.
"Nope. I would be annoyed at Fanny getting all the attention." Her voice was soft at that point, somehow. Perhaps it accidentally tumbled out her mouth from her mind. Well, you were still focused on making her say she would practically spoil Fanny from how much she'll love the dog.
"Admit it. I know you adore Lucky at least, so! I'm not wrong here." The table goes quiet, the two of you finished with your food. But a thought clicks in your head at her last few words.
"Wait. Annoyed at Fanny getting all the attention? Do you mean you want my attention all on you instead?" It's quite obvious she would, considering you were the one she loves, and you love her, but you just like teasing her.
"...No. I just said I would be annoyed." She brushes it off, taking a sip of her own drink. Her face being completely and utterly normal. But you could clearly see the hint of lying from the way she sipped her drink while talking.
"Yes you did, and you had the attention part! Don't lie, Nat. I'm sick, but I can still have a great memory." You say, proud for having caught her. But the memory part is...partly true. She finished drinking and has the most adorable smile on her face.
"Okay, okay. You're obviously out of it. And now, we will go sleep." Nat gets up from her chair, shooting you a glance of 'we will never speak about it again or you are not getting cuddles' before picking up her empty bowl along with yours to go put them in the sink.
"Excuses, excuses!" You accuse her, a playful tone in your voice. But, you follow along with her, holding both yours and her empty cup.
You were about to help her do the dishes, but she protests to you about it. Even if you did puppy eyes or whatever, she would much rather have you getting some rest.
"Go lie in bed while I finish up here, yeah, любовь? (love)" She softly said. Her hands are on your waist, ready to stop you from turning back to face the sink.
"Okay." You quietly say, nodding your head a bit. She smiles at you before letting go of her hold on you, leaving you to turn and walk off to the bedroom.
Although you did spend most of your time on the couch just earlier, the cold started to take a toll on you and catch up with all thats left of your energy. Of course it was.
You tiredly and almost practically fell on the bed, the soft mattress welcoming your body. Just when you got comfortable, Nat comes walking in the room, holding up the orca plushie you forgot and left in the living room.
You looked up with realization, and reach out with your hands. Nat almost wanted to pull it away from you just to tease you back for the dining table incident, but that adorable face of yours made her relent. And she wouldn't wanna do such a thing when you're so sick anyway.
She lets you hold the soft plush while she got on her side, shuffling closer to you until she could cuddle you. You were expecting her to keep a small distance, considering you didn't really want to get her sick either, but when she pulled you closer, you end up putting the orca plushie just above your head on the pillow and putting your arms around her instead, craving her cuddles.
Her heartbeats gently thumps against her chest, echoing to your ears since you were so close to her. In the quietness of the room, only that, and the sound of both of your soft breathing could be heard. Only if you focused closely.
There was then, a tap against the roof. Nothing scary or creepy really, just a gentle tap. Then another, and it was a little thrumming that almost matched Natasha's heartbeat. Even she was a little confused, and her eyes were set on the ceiling. You know she would keep you safe all the time. But you thought the sound was familiar.
The tapping occurs more rapidly, and then it grows into a noise of which you can only identify as rainfall. It starts pouring outside, and the air starts getting chilly. But it was perfect.
Both you and Nat relaxes a little more at the sudden, but cozy background noise. You nuzzle against her neck in search for more of her warmth. She pulls the blanket up to cover more of your body, and lets her arms retreat back to the small of your back.
Soon enough the calmness of it all had your blinking go at a slow pace, now your eyelids falling down more to closing.
Surprisingly, your stuffy nose wasn't being annoying at the moment, but perhaps you had the cold temperature to thank for that. Your throat grew a little itchy though, so you looked away from Nat to not let the germs hit her, and let out a small cough to make it go away, hoping it doesn't get worse before you're asleep.
You turn back to the comfortable spot in the crook of her neck. Nat lays a gentle kiss on the side of your head, and that was when your eyes closed fully.
Seeing the state you were in when she got back home has her heart feeling a little heavy with concern, but she'll be beside you every second, no matter how long it takes for you to get better.
"Get better soon, мое маленькое солнышко (my little sunshine)." She whispers, slowly, and ever so softly. Only the rain responded back, but the feeling of your breathing against her was enough to let her fall asleep along with you.
|—————————— ⴵ ——————————|
It was 3:35 AM. The rain outside was still ongoing, but it was a calmer, less noticeable rainfall.
You were awoken with a coughing fit, lasting a minute or so. You try to hold it in after a short break, the trapped air wanting to break out of your throat. Fortunately, or, well, unfortunately, Nat was still asleep, somehow. You'd guessed the meeting yesterday took her energy out a lot.
Not wanting to wake her, you slowly untangle yourself from her embrace, and crawl out of bed, all the while taking a few deep breaths not to go into another coughing fit. But of course, by the time you quietly leave the room, one was bound to happen once more as you make your way to the kitchen.
You open a cupboard and grab a glass, careful to make sure your grip was strong enough. After pouring yourself a glass of water and taking a sip, you sigh. The moment of it becoming worse came sooner than you expected. But that just means being sick will pass by just as quick. Or, you desperately hope it will.
Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Nat started opening her eyes to cold sheets, and her embrace was empty of any sign of you. She awoke more as she blinked. To see no sight of you as she looked around made her get out of bed quicker than being late to work has ever made her.
When she goes out the bedroom, she sees you standing in the kitchen, your shoulders tense from coughing so much. But relief flowed through her body when you appeared in her vision.
Concern came next. She snuck her hands in her pockets at the coldness the living room had to offer. She was missing the warm blankets, but she was also missing you. And you were her top priority at the moment, not to even add the given situation that's happening right now.
The sound of your awful coughing echoed to the walls and back to her ears distantly. "You didn't wake me." Her voice huskily sounded out, and you just about heard it from the horrible hell your body was giving you. Thankfully, you weren't surprised and didn't go into fight or flight mode or anything.
She walks closer until you were only centimeters away from each other. "Sorry." you whisper to her, your voice raw from your throat being so sore. One row of coughs lead to another, and soon it's the endless miserable feeling while Nat rubbed your back.
You stare off at the marble counter for a bit after opening your eyes at the two second break, trying to recollect your breathing and not cough again by taking deep breaths, but it barely helps. Natasha reaches her arm over to the side counter just next to the both of you, and grabs the water filled glass you had earlier, holding it up for you.
You had your hands gripping the marble counter in front of you, your eyes drags itself down to see the glass cup. You let go of the edge and hold the cup instead, taking a quick sip before coughing again. You slowly drank your water until your lungs calmed down.
Nat's arms go down to go around your waist, pulling herself closer to the back of your body to place her face near your neck. You could feel her nose brushing against your skin just slightly, giving you a sense of comfort.
"You want me to make you some tea?" her voice softly whispers out into the darkness while you set your empty glass down. She knows medicine is the last thing you'd want at the moment, and knowing you, you would simply say it doesn't help. And it really didn't feel like it did with how many times you've gotten sick.
You gently nod, and her eyes watches your movement. Her hand slides down to hold one of yours, squeezing it, while her other hand goes up to open a cupboard. She moved beside you to grab a teabag and a mug, then when she had to move away to grab some water and pour it to heat up in a kettle, her hand had left yours lonely.
Since she's waiting on it to warm up now, she turns to face you, her back leaning against the counter. You go closer to her, finding her hand once more. You rested your head against her chest and her free hand holds your back, surrounding you with warmth.
The minutes go by with the two of you staying in that embrace, a peaceful quietness upon the room.
"You okay?" she asks softly, as if the whole world was about to fall apart if she spoke any louder, and to you, it almost felt like so. But that was until she held you in her arms.
You couldn't tell. There wasn't a name to the feeling. Exhaustion? Maybe. You didn't give her an answer, you only held her tighter.
She understands that words may not be the best choice for you right now, and so, she pulls back slightly, but keeps a fair distance enough to not make you pout at the loss of closeness. She takes in every feature on your face. Though you may be sick, you were still the most adorable human being to her, and since you were so quiet, she takes her chance to show her love instead.
The redhead has a small smile on her face, just before she leans in to lay a kiss on the tip of your nose. The action leaves you a little stunned, because you thought she was only admiring you, but it warmed your heart either way. And then, a kiss on your forehead. At this point, she wants to get sick.
But then, she turns back around to the counter, her back now facing you. The water had heated up now, so she pours it from the kettle to the mug.
She grabs the teabag she had placed nearby earlier, and dips it into the hot water, letting it sink and soak. As that's happening, she goes ahead and grabs a spoon of sugar or so then carefully adds it into the tea, stirring it and just ever so slightly pressing on the teabag with the spoon to get it out quicker.
Once she was done she slowly spins around, making sure the hot mug wasn't anywhere close to hitting you. She then steadily makes her way back to the bedroom, with you beside her. You were careful not to accidentally bump into her either. The two of you kept focus on keeping the dangerous burning tea in the mug.
When you arrive at the bedroom, Nat places it on the bedside table, letting out a breath she unknowingly kept in. Mission accomplished. Yes, she was a trained assassin, and yes, she's an avenger, but sleep can really get to you with losing focus and a chance of spilling a drink...especially when it's dark at night like this. Well, at least the bedroom has some dim lighting on. It's dim, but not dimmer than the soft kitchen lights.
You were sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Nat to sit beside you. When she does, she's holding the mug in her hands, blowing air to the tea to cool it down for you.
You could do it yourself, both you and the widow knew that, but considering she took the opportunity to do it for you first, you let her. Plus, the way her eyes are so focused on the ripples its causing in the liquid to make it drinkable is adorable.
You wait patiently until she slowly gives the mug over to you, keeping an eye on your fingers that you put around the handle while she holds parts of it that wasn't boiling, making sure it won't fall out of either of your hands.
You take a small sip at first, and when the temperature felt okay to you, you drink it slowly, taking breaks so your body would be able to cool down.
The hot air comes out in a breath from your mouth, The warmness of the tea going down your throat filling your body with relief and relaxation.
Once you've finished after a few more minutes, Nat had been reading a book, while at the same time keeping an eye on you. You place the mug on the bedside table, and took a glance back at Nat.
She looked so worried, so tired still because she had only gotten a small amount of rest. You started thinking on how she was taking care of you, and you wished this sickness would just stop.
The way she looks up from the pages filled with ink, just to show you a smile for you finishing the tea, it hit you just as much as the other times that you got really lucky.
What if you deserved the sickness? All this good couldn't have come without a cost...right? Wrong, darling. Nat puts the book down on her bedside table, opening her arms for you to sit within.
You still had work to be finished. The events that's happened in the past week, even the small ones couldn't leave your mind, while for others, it had been easily forgotten. You should be doing more, you thought.
But you were trying. The best you could. Nat could see that, and almost everyone else could see if they knew how to simply look into a human's eyes. You were just too soft for all of it.
She only wants you to get better. Everything else didn't matter. Even Fury, Maria, and Yelena is probably worrying about you right now.
It's all crashing down. You were in her arms, and she places a gentle kiss atop your head. Her fingers gently danced at your back, drawing meaningless patterns.
Your face seemed tired, and her heart ached at the thought of how much you're suffering. You were tired, that was for sure. It was sickness after sickness, almost every week or month. You just wanted a break.
It's a vicious cycle. Sure, you kept yourself feeling great with jokes and little happy moments, but it didn't mean the worse ones weren't gonna come bite you again at random times.
You move closer into the crook of her neck, your eyes glazed over, and you couldn't have noticed it unless the moonlight had hit your eyes. When Natasha feels tears going down her neck and down to seep into her shirt, she pulls you in closer.
"Oh, милая (sweetheart)." You tried. You tried really hard to keep it inside, but a broken sob leaves your mouth at her soft and caring tone. You've been going through so much, and she knows that, even if its small things, too.
It hurt. It really did. Your throat, the headache you get every now and then, and mentally, you weren't doing all that well either. But she holds you safely, as much as she could. And that's just all you need.
"It's okay. You'll be okay." she whispers softly. Your body shakes with the emotions you held from the past. Her hand trailed up your body just to slide it down to your lower back once more. Her other hand, has her thumb rubbing the skin just below your neck, the little movement assuring you that she was there, as she always has been, and will continue to be.
It went on for a while until you were able to calm down, only dissolving into small bur sharp intakes of breath going in your liver from all the sobbing. You went quieter with each deep breath you took, Nat along with you because she knew you could feel her breathing against you, so she does deep breaths to help you fall into the same pace as her.
She goes back to normal breathing after your little hiccup sounding noises were gone. Your eyes had closed, exhausted from everything, and the way her thumb was still going forth in an up and down motion near your neck helps into making you fall asleep.
Nat looks down on your sleeping figure, glad that you were able to get your emotions out fully, and still get your sleep in. You deserved the whole world, the galaxy, and still more than that.
She leans down, whispering a soft "I love you," just near your ear before turning off the lamp and going to sleep herself.
|—————————— ⴵ ——————————|
Bonus! - in the morning... :]
The blankets were a jumbled mess, but it still kept the both of you warm, and somehow had no little holes that the cold could sneak into.
She continues to read her book with the fairy lights she turned on on the bedpost helping her see the words written. The redhead awoke just a few minutes ago, and she would be doing her morning routine or getting breakfast ready by now, but with you on her body, getting the rest you needed, she didn't have it in herself to move.
The soft orange light from the bedroom bouncing off the walls blends with the blue sky, making itself known by going through the windows and illuminating a part of the room.
Nat had forgotten to close the curtains the night before, having been too preoccupied in taking care of you. But even so, just seeing the scene coming alive in front of her makes her feel a little more at peace.
You, too, seemed much more at peace.
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A/N: If you look closely you could notice sweet nothing by taylor hidden throughout this <3
taglist <3 - join here! :]
@notevenanna @ludasgf @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @justanotherteenpoet @fxckmiup @dmenby3100 @natsbraids-deactivated20231115 :( @animealways @natashasilverfox @wandsmxmff
#🥀 dawn’s collection#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff fluff#soft natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff comfort
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Flight Patterns - pt 3
Summary - After years of hushed whispers and leads, Azriel has finally found Cassian's lost sister, Aerilyn. What he found with her was unexpected, though.
Warnings - none in my mind
A/N - answering a question a few people had in this one while also sending a warning. 👀
Word count - *polished nails* 4,254
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5
3 weeks later-
Aerilyn was biting her tongue as Rhys showed her the sentences he wanted her to work on pronouncing. He looked so satisfied and smug, handing her the parchment that simply stated,
"Rhysand is the most intelligent High Lord."
"Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord."
"Rhysand is the most powerful High Lord."
The dam that was her patience with holding this uneducated act up was breaking. She had spent the past 3 weeks training with them, eating with them, and being forced to endure this. Complimenting the beautiful, cruel, kind, everything male in front of her while he did paperwork. She had noted during these quiet moments between them, each affirmation she gave him caused tension to leave his brow, his shoulders to relax. She was, in his mind, an unknowing voice setting aside each deep set fear he had.
And Aerilyn was tired of that. No matter how much she agreed with each sentence proclaiming his delightful nature deep down in her soul.
She leaned back into her chair, clicking her tongue and caved. "You are quite full of yourself, aren't you?" Rhysand paused, looking up at her from his reports with wide eyes. "Do not get me wrong, you are exquisite and the Mother definitely took her time carving you out of whatever fine marble she found, but have you looked at Helion?"
His jaw dropped before he school his reaction and sat back. "So you can speak."
"Clearly," she answered dryly.
"How long did you plan on playing this little game of yours, Aerilyn?" He leaned his forearms on the table in front of him. "How long did you plan on being a pretty little liar?"
She leaned forward, facing his challenge and staring at him to eye level. "Until you three were dumb enough to leave me alone and we could get out, but that's clearly pointless when you are the most intelligent high lord, isn’t it?" She sensed something from him, pouring into that string that connected them. She could not tell if it was pride, arousal, or a combination of both, but it made her lip curl in what she lied to herself as being annoyance.
He purred to her, "You are a smart little thing, aren't you, darling?"
Aerilyn growled in response. "Do not condescend me."
Rhys kept a straight face to hide the absolute lust and need he was feeling. "I am not condescending you, darling. I genuinely mean that. You are both little and intelligent."
Rhys moved closer to her, caging her between the sidearm of the couch and himself. “Won't dear Azriel be oh so surprised the female he's been making notes for me on can speak? Or your brother, Cassian, oh so thrilled he can actually communicate with you, tell you every damned word that's been eating him alive for over a month now?”
She looked away, guilt showing in her eyes as the floor. “Or your mate,” he spoke softer this time, gently forcing her to look at him. “Who wanted nothing more than to get to know you, to learn how to care for you, to learn how you'd like to be loved? how do you think this secret of yours makes him feel?”
Aerilyn didn't understand the weight of his words. Nor what a mate was. He used terms of endearment for her frequently she never understood. “My mate,” “my stars,” “mine,” or constantly calling her “Aerilyn Darling,” as if he was taking some weird ownership of her.
And deep down it had started to set a soft warmth in her heart. “I do not know what this mate term you use means, but you'll have to forgive a female for thinking of survival, not of the comfort of 3 males.”
His face fell then, eyes losing all sparkle as if someone had turned off the night sky. Aerilyn felt sick inside at the sight of it. “You do not know what mates are?” she nodded in confirmation and watched as he moved away from her, shaking off the disappointment radiating from him before moving forward. “Would you like to tell them? Or shall I?”
Aerilyn swallowed, her mind racing. “I will.”
“Good answer.” He stood, leaving her alone in the library.
Aerilyn took the report he had left, curling into the arm of the couch and running through it. He eyes moved the the stack he had left then, noting how each was just messily thrown into the pile. She began sorting them then. Reports from the Camps and Steepes in one time, reports from Azriel in another, reports from Cassian in one. She had them by date, urgency, context. It wasn't much, but it was a small apology as a shadow came and rested on her shoulder announcing it's master's approach.
Azriel stares at the sorted reports, a brow going up. “Did you do this for him?”
Aerilyn closed her eyes. He was expecting a nod and got this instead. “I did. He's ridiculously unorganized.”
Azriel took the chair across from her, a small smirk playing on his face. “You just won me a lot of money.”
Aerilyn looked at him, her brows knitted together. There was not a ounce of anger in the male, nor sign of hurt. Just a small playful smile. “You aren't mad?”
He shook his head. “We all knew. Rhys has been purposely picking large eloquent words since you accidently called Cassian a vacuous prideful jerk for body slamming you when you were beating him hand to hand. The three of us had bets on when you'd drop the act.”
He paused a shadow whispering something to him before continuing. “You held up the feral gremlin act well, though. Destroying the kitchen was my personal favorite scene. We are still finding sugar in places it should not be.”
He leaned forward, eyes on you. “Now little sister,” a line drawn in the sand softly, “can you tell me when your mate is beating training dummies so-” he trailed off watching your face before leaning back with his answer. “You don't know what mates are, do you? Your face says the things your mouth won't. It was part of how I've figured out the act.”
She made another slightly insulted face, one that made Azriel chuckle, a rare full smile appearing. “Cassian does the same thing, sweetness. Don't worry. Now the topic at hand, the mating bond is a sacred thing. It's rare and typically only given to the most powerful of fae. It's supposed to bring you to your other half, your equal, your one true fae. It allows you to feel each other, to know each other on a deeper level, and to communicate without words.”
He had a dreamy far off look as he glanced out the window at the stars. “I've wished for one every year at Starfall, solstice, and with every birthday candle.”
“That's a lot of candles,” Aerilyn interrupted before shooting her hand to her mouth. Azriel's brows rose up to his hairline, “Cauldron, you and Cassian even have the same sense of humor. Fuck me,” he chuckled again, the noise ringing like a soft bell in her ears. “Anyways, mating bonds are created by the Mother and Cauldron to ensure strong off spring, but Rhys, Cassian, and I always wanted more for our mates. We want to love them, fully and completely. We want them to truly be our equals, hence him having you sit with him while he does his high lord work. We want them to know we support them and want them to feel they matter. That they are more than prized mares to be bred, also hence me keeping track of things that make you happy, sad, foods you enjoy.”
Azriel took her hand. “Rhys wants you to feel warm, welcome, wanted, and loved here, and you are sweetness. I need to go before he breaks his knuckles. Dinner will be in 30 minutes.”
Aerilyn went to her room, sitting on her bed as she processed the information Azriel had handed her on a silver platter. She played with that string softly, wrapping it around her finger once, then twice. She knew it would not be hard to love him, nor to be loved by him. Rhys had shown her nothing but kindness since the incident with Enlil. He had even offered to fly her to them tomorrow, an offer she hoped still stood after feeling his broken spirits cloud her mind and soul.
Rhys sat still on the training grounds, Cassian and Azriel next to him. He could feel each slight twitch, stroke, and caress of the bond, causing his heart ache to set into dread more and more. “She knows about the tether,” he said softly. “Which means she unknowingly has been pulling it since she didn't know what it was.”
Cassian ran a hand up and down his brother's back. “She wasn't raised with mom like we were, Rhys. She was left to survive alone, to educate herself among who knows what level or type of fae, and kept away from society. Her knowing about the bond and how they work would have been surprising.” They both watched as Azriel rocked on his feet and made a straight lined face. “Azriel, you didn't.”
“She was confused,” he justified. “I couldn't leave her like that. Just sitting there, confused and hurt, sorting through your mountain of reports.”
Rhys almost comically perked up, his eyes reignited with the affection he already held for his mate. “She sorted my reports?”
Aerilyn was silent at dinner, pushing her potatoes around the plate while the three males spoke. Cassian was the last to find out she could speak to and understand them. He had not been mad, he was thrilled in all honesty. Picking her up and spinning her as he cried tears of joy. Aerilyn rested her head on his shoulder, smiling as he kissed her forehead. “Not hungry, sis?”
She shrugged softly, “Tired. And I hate potatoes. It was the one thing I could steal from camps that they didn't notice so we ate just potatoes for months once.”
Cassian felt his stomach dropping. He knew that feeling all too well. The wondering when your next meal would could. The pain from portioning servings meant to be one meal into multiple. It killed him inside knowing his sister had gone through that just outside of their reach.
He reached over, grabbing another piece of grilled chicken and setting it on her plate. Rhys pushed him the mixed steamed vegetables, She wants these. He took her potatoes, scapping them onto his own plate before loading the steamed broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower onto her plate. She'd also like to try wine, but is scared.
So give her a little wine, Cassian suggested back. Show her you've noticed.
Rhys studied his mate, noting her typical food choices and likes as he made a choice. He stood, going to the bar where several open bottles sat away from the brothers, preventing them from drinking heavily and getting too drunk when they were set to visit drakes the next day.
His hand lingered on the Day Court white, giving her less than half a pour, and walking it to her. “I think you will like this one. If you don't, it's Azriel's favorite.”
Azriel looked longingly at the bottle. “You could just bring it here.”
“We promised her an early morning flight to her bond,” Rhys sat cooly, watching as she sniffed the wine. “We need to be on our toes and clear minded for that.”
Aerilyn paused. “We're still going?”
“Of course, darling, I made you a promise.”
Aerilyn was to her feet immediately, going over to Rhys and tilting his head slightly to kiss a stumbled cheek. “Thank you.”
“Of course, my darling. Now eat. I know you want the broccoli.”
Rhys shot awake in the middle of the night, panic that wasn't his own flooding him. It had become a constant now that she was here, now that after years of searching and unanswered prayers to the Mother he had found her. Rhys stood up pulling on a pair of sweatpants before walking to her room.
Azriel telling her about what the bond did had benefits, and this was one. He didn't have to continue ignoring her fear, her nightmares, her wakeless dreams. He entered her room to find her still asleep, tossing and turning and sat on her bed beside her, entering her mind to calm her. His hand moved through her tangled hair, gently pulling each catch apart before he caved, laying beside her and holding her as she fell into a deeper sleep. She turned in his arms, head burying itself into his chest as he continued to play with her hair.
He might regret it in the morning, but Rhys fell asleep there, in her room, holding her safely in his arms.
Aerilyn ran a hand along her sheets, eyes still closed as she reached for a body that wasn't there. She sat up, disappointment settling in like a cold ache. He was there, she knew he was there. His scent still lingered to the soft fabrics, to her skin.
She shoved that feeling down. Ignoring it like she had all other draws to him.
The draw to be near him.
The need to be held by him.
The need to please him.
Aerilyn wasn't a stranger to love, nor courtship. She had grown up among married pairs, always the odd ball out. She had watched illyrian males woo and sweet talk females into their beds as she sat in the woods.
But nothing ever seemed like this. Nothing she had witnessed was this. This weird fated and decided thing she had no control over.
This weird fated and decided thing eventually only handed to powerful and special fae.
There was nothing special about Aerilyn. That was something she knew from staring at herself in the mirror and strapping on the black illyrian leathers. She wasn't a great beauty like Mor, wasn't intelligent like Cassian, wasn't useful like Azriel, nor did she have some hidden beast buried below her skin like Amren.
Aerilyn believed she just was. Without dragons she'd just be a wingless Illyrian female. She had no powers, no influence, no stunning looks to brag about. How could she be worthy or equal to him?
A knock ripped her from her thoughts, Cassian entering the room and walking behind her to help her finish getting everything on. “Good morning,” he kissed her head gingerly. “How are you this morning?” He already knew. Rhys had sent him in to stop her from the mental spiral she was about to enter. He stared at her through the mirror, admiring every little thing she couldn't see about herself.
Those bright hazel eyes shining like molten honey over the most expensive cuts of emeralds. Those high sharp cheekbones, rosy and glowing more than they had when they had found her hungry and thin in those woods. Her sun-kissed clear skin. Her small nose. Her full lips.
Cassian's absolute favorite feature on his sister was her long dark hair, falling down her back like a waterfall of curls.
She had not answered him, forcing him to hold her jaw in his hands and look at him. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” He didn't let her see his heart shatter as she looked down. “Aerilyn, surely you see how beautiful you are?” it was impossible to ignore her fingers beginning to tap on her thighs, pounding a soft rhythm into that muscled flesh as they stared at each other in the mirror.
Cassian was handsome, Aerilyn could admit that. Her brother was rugged, scarred, and his body was solid muscle carved from stone. He'd brought many females home in the month she'd been here, and she wasn't dumb enough to not see why. He was charming, handsome, smart, funny, important.
She looked at them both again. “I suppose if you're slightly attractive, I am too?”
Cassian's head fell into her shoulder, his own shaking in laughter. “Slightly attractive? Only slightly. I think you're stunning. Exactly like Mother. And you think I'm okay looking?”
Aerilyn smiled up at him. “Can't stroke your ego.” Cassian smiled in her hair again, puffs of air coming out as he chuckled. “Are we eating breakfast?”
“I never do anything without breakfast.” Cassian laced their fingers together, pulling her into the hallway and down the stairs.
Azriel was at the table, head in his hands, coffee at his side. Rhys patted his shoulder. “Told you not to drink it all, Brother.” Azriel grunted at him in return. “I know. Days off.” He grunted again making Rhys and Cassian laugh.
It was like an unspoken language between the 3 of them, and it made Aerilyn smile. Aerilyn scratched Azriel's head, taking the spot between him and the High lord. “You don't have to come,” her offer was in a soothing tone. “I don't want to burden you on your time off.”
Comfortable silence fell between the 4 of them. “You could never burden any of us,” Rhys answered plainly. “But she is correct, Azriel. You can stay home. Get some well deserved rest.” He shook his head back to grunting as he rested his forehead on the table. “He'll nap while you eat, Ari.”
Cassian passed her the plate of something she had never seen, watching as he head tilted. “Pancakes. Kind of sweet. Kind of not.”
“Oooooor muffin?” Aerilyn batted her eyelashes unsure of the new food being put in front of her. “We know I like muffin.”
Azriel lifted his head. “I didn't not slave away on fucking pancakes for you to ignore them like they're chopped liver.”
“Yes,” Cassian said plainly. “I'm sure those 30 extra minutes were detrimental to your sleep pattern.”
“Oh fuck you.” Azriel slapped a pancake on her plate. “Eat it or you run laps all day.”
Aerilyn cuddled up to Rhysand tightly as they flew. Her nails almost digging painfully into his biceps and shoulders. “You would think this would not bother you so much considering you fly on dragon back.” Aerilyn tried to relax, she truly did. But she ended up holding him tighter as the wind switched.
“It's different,” she squeaked out. “So very different.” He just hummed in response, allowing her to hold him as tight as she needed.
Rhysand looked down, slightly saddened by the view she was missing. “I suppose the views from them are also different. Having to be so far away and unable to admire anything.” She refused to move, barely attempting to peek before tucking herself back into his neck. “I will never drop you, darling.”
“Not the worry,” she answered hastily. “Look up.” A great shadow passed over them, covering the area between himself and Ari as well as the several feet ahead of them where Cassian and Azriel flew.
This dragon was larger than the other 3 they had seen so far. Almost swallowing the sun in black and darkness.
Azriel and Cassian had stopped their race, hovering in amazement as the beast headed to the entrance and shook the mountain with the force of the landing. “That is one big fucker.” Cassian blinked as the words left his mouth, astonishment settling in. “Who flew him?”
“Her,” Aerilyn corrected softly. “That's a female, and it doesn't matter who flew her. She'll never take another rider.” The males went back into motion, the powerful beating of their wings distracting Aerilyn until they landed and she was gently set down.
Eirwen had waited, her white scales glimmering like fresh fallen snow as she lowered her head for a pat. “Hello love,” Ari kissed her snoot gently. “Can we come in?”
The drake seemed to huff, releasing a chattering like noise as she led them into the pit. She moved to the area she had clearly claimed, setting down her newest treasure into her hoard. Azriel chuckled slightly as he took the pile in. The white beast began to rearrange the fabric, placing it into the pile of silks, furs, and cloth. She seemed to almost tuck herself in before making it snow above her and releasing a happy sigh. “That is Eirwen,” Aerilyn said softly. “She is an ice drake. She hoards fabric for blankets.”
“Winter,” Azriel muttered softly to Rhysand.
Cassian covered his mouth before moving in further and slowly. His eyes ended up locking on the blue dragon. It's scales almost dancing as they reflected the light. “Thalassa,” Aerilyn moved to the dragon, kissing her nose as well. “Hoards shells and parts of ships. Has control over water and oceanic creatures.”
“Summer,” the spymaster muttered again.
Cassian pointed to Hestia who purred at him. “She is wondering if you brought her a gift.” Ari patted the red dragon's snoot. “She can detect a lovely collection near by but won't go pillage your home for it.”
Cassian burst out laughing. “She's probably detecting Amren. The two of them should trade notes sometime.” Hestia seemed to tilt her head as if she understood him.
Enlil growled softly. Annoyed his bond had not came to him yet and Aerilyn immediately moved as Azriel muttered “Autumn.” Enlil was surrounded by lively floral and plants in pots. His eyes closed as Aerilyn held him, glowing as they made contact. “Enlil hoards plants,” she said happily. “Herbs, tropical things, flowers. If he thinks it's pretty, he takes it.” Rhys couldn't help but to break a smile, hearing the male dragon's whines and chirps of content as his Aerilyn loved him. “I have to finish introducing everyone. I'll be right back.”
Azriel had already moved to the next dragon, his eyes wide as he took him in. “Eros,” she said without even needing to be asked. “Controls light. Collects rare and exotics weapons. And no. He will not trade.”
Azriel sighed softly. “So I can't convince him to give me that sword,” he pointed towards the curved Peregryn blade made from Illyrian steel. One all three males knee. “Can you tell me how he got that.”
Aerilyn rested her head on his, stroking those golden and pink iridescent scales.
They watched in shock as her eyes went blue, and the dragon's did as well. “On a battlefield after the war against Hybern,” the dragon said. A voice like smooth deep chocolate coming from him. “I will trade it for the dagger you carry. But nothing else.”
Aerilyn released the magic she was so used to, turning to Azriel and making a face as the drake licked up her face. “No deal. I'll find something else he may like, though.”
“Dawn,” Cassian whispered to Rhys.
Another golden beast sat in the next area, significantly smaller than the rest, but radiating power they had not felt yet. Azriel and Cassian's siphons began to dim as they were drained. This dragon was surrounded by ancient texts and crystals. “Hekate,” Aerilyn marked and shut the book the dragon was reading gently, allowing her to rest fully onto her claws. “She hoards books and crystals. She drains magic to use it for herself. Your siphons are easy targets. It's part of why she loved Illyria and why we remained so well hidden.”
“Day,” Rhysand said plainly as he moved to the last dragon. The beast immediately raised it's head, confirming the suspicions the three of them had. The black scaled beasts scales lit up, radiating like Starfall. “Which means this is a poison dragon, commonly found in the Night Court. What does he hoard?”
“Starlight,” Aerilyn moved between Achlys and Rhysand, protecting her second favorite dragon from the High Lord he was born to serve. “And souls.” Achlys Say up, towering over Aerilyn as he looked down upon the males in front of him.
Rhys rose his chin to the challenge. “They used to call these dragons the world eaters.”
Aerilyn looked at Rhys, glaring slightly, “They used to call them many things.”
Rhys nodded and raised a hand to the dragon, allowing it to sniff him before patting its scaled nose. “I have no worries, Aerilyn Darling. I would like to see each drake's powers sometime, though.” Rhysand offered her his arm, moving her back to Enlil as Cassian and Azriel left the pit to discuss the potential they were sitting on. “There's a female in Pryithian,” Rhysand began. “One who stood at Hybern's side as their general and is now claiming to be an emissary. I have no plans on exposing you all to her, but I'd like to know the advantage I have. Just in case.”
Ari felt her hazel eyes widened in shock. “In case of war?” Rhysand nodded, kissing her knuckles and kneeling down in front of where she sat on her mounts clawed paw. “Rhys-”
He gave her a soft look, “Not for my benefit, my mate. For the safety of these lands, our home, them, you. I need to know before Amarantha pulls something. And I need to know they are able to protect you.”
Taglist : @kemillyfreitas @jesssicapaniagua @elijahssuit @biancabldss @hellwantfuckme @justdreamstars @sidthedollface2
#acotar#acotar x oc#rhysand x oc#rhysand fic#rhysand acotar#rhys fic#rhys acotar#rhys x oc#flightpatterns
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Oh Mama! A continuation of Oh Baby
Summery: As the birth draws closer you reflect on all the ways Pedro has been there for you throughout your pregnancy.
Warnings: Swearing, verbal abuse (not by our sweet man), protective Pedro, fluff, use of Y/N.
Italics indicate in ward thinking and flashbacks.
This is a continuation of Oh Baby which was meant to be a one shot but after a request for a part 2 I've decided to write this and a part 3 which will be called Oh Daddy, which will focus on Pedro being the amazing dad and partner we all know he would be :)
Miserable! that's how you feel. Miserable, bloated, heavy. No matter how much you shift or turn, finding a good sleeping position is next to impossible. It also doesn't help that you're in the middle of a sweltering heatwave. The aircon is on but it might as well be non existent with the hot flashes that keep plaguing your body.
You look to your left and feel a little twinge of jealousy as you watch Pedro sleep soundly in the dim lamp light. Why the fuck should he get to sleep while I can't! You know it's just the hormones making you feel irritable and bitter but right now you want nothing more than to shake him awake and tell him to stay awake with you.
But no matter how irritable your last month of pregnancy is making you there's no way you be that spiteful. As you watch Pedro sleep, his plush lips slightly parted, letting slow, rhythmic breathes escape, you begin to reminisce all the ways he's been there for you, supporting you and caring for you since you'd told him you're pregnant.
Neither one of you had planned for this baby, but life doesn't always go according to our own plans. It has it's own agenda and all you can do is follow the path it lays before you and do your very best. After your initial fear of telling Pedro about the baby- and that awful resulting anxiety induced nightmare - you both seemed to easily slip into your natural roles. You; the nurturing and tender mother and Pedro; the protective and comforting father and partner.
For someone who once said he's never gonna be a dad, he sure seemed happy and content these past 7 months and that happiness has bubbled over into excitement now that the birth will be any day. Pedro stirs in his sleep a little, causing a couple of stray curls to fall onto his forehead. You gently brush them back up off his face, taking care not to wake him.
You guess he could actually do with the rest after weeks of being at your every beck and call, sometimes even going out at stupid 'o' clock to buy whatever your insatiable cravings demanded. You shift for the thousandth time, onto your side and put a pillow between your knees to provide some - but not much - relief. You continue to watch him sleep, feeling his breath fan your face, his shoulders slowly rising and falling and you feel the baby kick you again.
The little Bun - as you both lovingly refer to it since you've both agreed to not find out the sex and be surprised - has been quite active today. Tears fill your eyes and suddenly you feel like the luckiest woman in the world, as you place your hand tenderly on your bump and stare at the face of the man you love. This is what it's all about, you perceive, growing a beautiful new life with the perfect man. And boy, has he been just that for the past several months.
Your mind starts to wander back to all the moments where Pedro has gone above and beyond for you both....
The third month of your pregnancy is when your morning sickness really ramped up. Until that point you had only felt slightly nauseous but then it hit you like a ton of bricks. The first time you threw up actually startled Pedro. The poor guy almost had a heart attack when you leapt up from bed, accidentally dragging the quilt and him across the bed. You would have felt bad about waking him if you weren't too busy spewing your guts up into the toilet.
"What the fuck?!" is what you heard from the bedroom as you heaved and retched. "Baby?... You Okay?" Pedro asked quietly from behind you in the doorway to the on suite. "Yeah I'm-" blargh!- "I'm... good," you finally reply in a shaky voice as you wipe your mouth with one hand while the other holds your hair back. And so it went on for months. Pedro was always beside you (when he wasn't away filming or doing interviews) rubbing soothing strokes along your back, whispering comforting words and waiting with a glass of water in hand.
The more frequent the episodes became, the more he started to worry about you. You hated seeing him so worried as much as he hated seeing you be sick, so one time you'd decided to make light of the situation. After chucking up for what felt like the millionth time you called Pedro to the bathroom. He came rushing to you but before he could say a word you cried "Hold my hairrrrr!!" in your best whiny Dieter voice. Pedro burst out laughing as he clearly hadn't been expecting that of all things.
"That's a good one," he chuckled as he did indeed hold your hair. "How long have you been waiting to do that?" You look up at him and giggle but it's cut short by another bought of retching, which of course Pedro helped you through with words of encouragement. "Just be glad I don't have to shit, too," you mumble into the toilet bowl causing another burst of laughter to erupt from him.
You smile quietly to yourself at the memory while smoothing over the arc of your bump. You can't believe that a woman can naturally grow so big and not burst, which takes you back to the time you'd gotten upset over your sudden weight gain....
After coming home from a much needed shopping trip for maternity clothes and larger everyday clothes you slump onto the settee to rest your aching feet while Pedro puts the kettle on. You miss coffee but it's better for the baby if you stick to tea for a while. It was just as good and definitely helped to relax you. Once the drinks were finished Pedro took the cups to the kitchen and started to prepare for dinner. "I'm gonna go put the clothes away," you called to him in the kitchen, to which he replied, "Don't be too long. Food will be ready soon."
Staring into your wardrobe, a lump forms in your throat and tears burn behind your eyes as you take in the sight of some of your favourite and much smaller clothes. The more items you remove, to be replaced with the new and larger (two sizes larger to be precise) clothes, the more you feel the dam about to burst. Fighting it is no good, what with the hormones and all, and in a matter of seconds you're a blubbering mess on the bedroom floor.
"Y/N...," Pedro calls up the stairs, "Food's ready." You quickly choke back your sobs as best you can and try not to sound like someone who's just been in the middle of a complete breakdown. "O-kay," you faltered unintentionally. Great, maybe he didn't notice. Oh, but he did notice. His hasty footsteps were a dead giveaway of that fact. Pedro appeared in the bedroom moments later, his brows pinched and deep chestnut eyes full of compassion. "Sweetheart? What's wrong?" he asked dolefully as he slowly lowered himself to the floor next to you, both of you surrounded by your old clothes.
You look up at him through red, puffy eyes. "I'm so f... fat!," you bawled while gripping one of your favourite tops. "I feel like a whale!" Pedro lets out an endearing huff. "What?... It's true!" Bwahhaha!... "Shhh..." Pedro coos into your ear as he takes you in his strong arms. "That's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said. You're not fat and you certainly don't look like a whale," he asserted as he holds your flushed and tear streaked face in his hands and looks directly into your eyes. "You're growing a brand new life in there," he says as he places a hand on your belly. "Of course your body will change and it's a good change."
"I just... can't see how you co...could be attracted to me right now," you wept while looking down. "What?!" Pedro asked incredulously. "Do you have any idea what it does to me seeing you carry and care for my baby?" Pedro wipes your tears away and you look up to meet his eyes once more. "You've never been more beautiful than you are right now, darling. Don't you forget that, okay?" Through calmer breathes you whisper "Okay."
Just as you got semi comfortable you realise you're now quite thirsty. With an annoyed eye roll and a huff, you roll onto your back and push yourself up to reach over for the glass of water on your nightstand. Maybe you moved a little too fast because as you put the glass down you suddenly feel a little light headed. It passed in literally a few seconds. This is nothing compared to the dizzy spells you had to endure a few months ago....
You woke with a start when your phone rang. It might as well have been a bloody foghorn with how it pierced the peace and quiet of the living room. It's Pedro. You haven't seen each other for a few weeks due to his filming commitments but you talk everyday. Swiping the answer button you groggily mumble, "Hello." Hey sweetheart," Pedro began cheerfully, "Thought I'd call you on your lunch break... You okay? You sound funny." "Yeah..." you answer sluggishly, "I'm fine." You know he'll never buy it. "What's wrong?" Pedro asks in an assertive but gentle tone. "Nothing...," you try to placate him.
"...They just sent me home from work because I was having dizzy spells." "Did you call the doctor?" Pedro interjects quickly, his voice laced with concern. You can almost feel his anxiety through the phone. "Not yet. I just needed to lay down for a bit. I'm actually feeling a bit better." Okay, that may have been a white lie but the last thing you want is to cause Pedro any unnecessary worry. But of course he's worried. "Why didn't you call me straight away?" Pedro pressed perturbedly. "I just didn't want to worry you," You answer with a hint of guilt.
"I'm coming home-" "Ped, you can't. You have an interview today-" "They'll understand," he insisted, firmly. "I'm on the next flight home." You know when he speaks in such a final tone that his mind is made up. "Okay," you relent, feeling like a burden, but you know he'd worry like hell if he didn't come back to you right now. Turns out you had low iron levels and low blood pressure. Pedro made you stay off work and re-scheduled his interview with Vanity Fair. He never left your side for the next couple of weeks while you recovered.
Your eyelids feel like they're made of lead but sleep still eludes you. Silently pushing up on your elbows, you peer over Pedro's shoulder at the alarm clock. 2:38 am. You lay back down on your side and your shuffling must have disturbed Pedro because now his arm has found it's way across your side, hand splayed on your back slowly pulling you into his broad body, tucking your head under his chin. He sighs in his sleep and his breathing evens out again as he settles back into slumber. Being wrapped up in the arms of the man you love is absolute heaven for you.
You lay a hand against his chest feeling the calm and slow movements of his thorax. With his arm draped over you it's impossible to not feel safe and protected. It feels like nothing in the world can ever hurt you and your child. Pedro's action's assured you of that when an overly enthusiastic fan verbally abused you one evening....
"The black Audi A6, please." Pedro handed the ticket to the valet as you both stepped out of the restaurant. After two weeks apart this date night is just what you both needed. The morning sickness had finally stopped by your seventh month and you'd been looking forward to this night all week. The clingy, thigh length, black maternity dress you'd bought especially for tonight hugged your bump and the curve of your hips perfectly. You actually felt attractive for the first time in months.
While waiting for the car you slip your hand into Pedro's and place a soft kiss on his shoulder. "Thank you for tonight. It's been perfect," you smiled warmly. Pedro let go of your hand to place his own at your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. "You deserve it, baby," he whispered as his lips brush your hairline. "And by the way," he adds while looking up and down your body, "You look incredible!" Even after all this time together he's still able to make you blush like a teenager. Before you can reply an excited squeal ruptures the still night air. "On my god! Pedro Pascal!" A young woman cries, unable to contain her elation.
She rushes over to you both with two more companions who are equally excited to meet Hollywood's hottest celebrity. The two girls and man couldn't have been older than their mid twenties. "Hi," Pedro smiled and tightened his grip on your waist. He's always been protective of you and now that you're having his baby that protective side has increased exponentially. "Can we have a photo, please!" The other girl asked with a huge grin. "Of course you can," Pedro chirped but didn't release his hold on you. You gently squeeze his hand while peeling it off your hip, a silent 'it's okay' and you excuse yourself to stand several feet away.
You're used to fans approaching, and you love to see how much Pedro's supporters adore him, and that his mere presence whips people up into a frenzy. You smile proudly in adoration, stroking your baby bump as you watch how much of a natural he is with his fans. "Thank you!" "We're huge fans!" "You're amazing!" "We love you!" The words are spilling out of their mouths at the same time, all talking over one another. "Aw, thank you so much, guys. That means a lot," Pedro replies, his beaming smile stretching from one cheek to the other.
While the women are still fussing, the man looks your way and then down to your rounded stomach. "Aww, baby Pascal," he burst vehemently. Suddenly he rushed at you, hands outstretched and a determined look on his face, "Can I feel?" The intensity from this stranger sent you into automatic defence mode for your baby. You step back, instinctively covering your belly just as he's about to grab you, permission or not! "Don't touch me!" you cautioned him, nervously. Pedro's head snapped from the women to your direction at the sound of your alarmed voice.
"Gee's Okay!" the man snapped at you irately. "I only wanted to feel. No need to be such a bitch about it!" He spat the word bitch out like he had a bad taste in his mouth causing your eyes to widen. "The fuck did you just say to her?!!" Pedro exploded as he stood between you and this entitled piece of shit. "Whoa... easy man-" the man stuttered in defence but Pedro cut him off. "You have no right to touch anyone against their will, especially a pregnant woman. And who the fuck do you think you are calling her a bitch because she said no?!" The man stared dumfounded. Pedro leaned in to the man's personal space, seething, "You'd better walk away while you still can!"
You've never seen Pedro this angry, literally shaking with rage, chest to chest with the guy, who looks like he's about to piss himself. His friends pull him away, scolding him in hushed tones and offering apologies to you both. "Baby?..." you soothed while stroking up and down Pedro's arm. He turns to you, chest heaving and still shaking but the moment he locks eyes with you his gaze softens, frown lines un-creasing and muscles relaxing. He wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head, languidly. "You're okay, darling. I won't ever let anything happen to you two." And he means that. You can feel the conviction of his declaration as if it were a physical manifestation.
You hadn't even realised you had fallen asleep until you were being jostled awake by a deep, concerned voice. "Y/N... Y/N, wake up." "Hmmm?" you groaned sleepily as you came to, feeling like you could smother Pedro with his pillow for waking you now! "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" annoyance and exhaustion seeped through your words. "Baby, I literally just dropped off!" "The bed's wet!" Pedro quickly replied. "What the?..." It was more of a realisation than a question as you looked down to see your shorts and the mattress completely soaked. "My water's have broken!" you gasp, looking wide eyed into Pedro's equally wide eyes. It's time....
Oh Daddy A Conclusion
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fandom#pedro x reader#pedrohub#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedrostories#pedropascal#pedrito#jose pedro balmaceda pascal
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I Come With Knives Pt 15
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
This is a continuation of the last chapter. Tbh I cut that one off shorter than I'd have liked, but I'm kinda glad I did, if only to have this chapter turn out the way it did
Not proofread and I wrote it while soooo sleepy
Warnings: undressing, anxiety, references to past abuse/trauma
Word Count: 1,352
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
I Come With Knives Masterlist
AO3
Tag List Form
Astarion wrapped you in a towel and used another to dry your hair. You’d calmed down, but now exhaustion pulled heavily on your body. Not just exhaustion from fighting for weeks on end, but the toll of your entire life up to this point - the slavery, the abuse, the conditioning. And it was still going. On and on, seemingly never-ending. After one issue was solved, 12 more arose, all clasping you in shackles and iron chains that bolted your limbs to the ground until all you could do was struggle helplessly against them.
Nothing was said as he guided you away from the river back to camp. One of his arms wrapped around your waist as the other clumsily held all of your still-bloody armor. He dumped it outside of his tent, wincing at the clattering noise it made - but he truly couldn’t care less if it woke anybody up.
He sat you down on your bedroll and rummaged through your pack until he found something for you to sleep in that wasn’t soaking wet. He wasn’t sure if you’d even want to change, no matter how much you needed to. Humans were so fragile, a fact he often forgot when he looked at you; he’d hate for you to get sick.
Kneeling in front of you, he set the clothes on your pillow and tenderly cupped your cheek in his hand. You melted into it, eyes fluttering shut with a quiet sigh as you leaned into the kindest touch you’ve ever known. Already, your skin was becoming chilled with the water.
“You need to change, love,” he insisted softly. “Can’t have you getting sick now.”
You didn’t say anything for a while. He worried that you’d fallen asleep, but he was sure he’d have heard your breathing and heart rate change if you had. But then you reluctantly pull your cheek from his palm and nod. You’re sluggish as you look at the stack of clothes and drop the towel from around your shoulders. A chill wracks through your body.
He pulls away and begins to stand, but your hand shoots out and catches his arm before he can get too far. All at once, your eyes are wide and panicked, fear shooting through your system. “Don’t go,” you plead, desperate. “Stay, I- I can’t-”
“Shh.” He sits back down, taking your hand and raising it to his own cheek. You feel the creases by his mouth and the little curls by his ears. “I’ll stay, darling. I’m right here.”
Your eyes flicker across his face, as if you don’t quite believe him, even though you’ve been at his side all evening. But soon you relent. The fear dissipates, and you pull your hand back. Your shoulders slump in relief when he doesn’t try to get up again.
“Can you…” You take a breath, as though anything you could ask of him would be too far out of the realm of possibility and would be rejected outright. He waits patiently. “Could you close your eyes?”
He smiles. “Of course, darling.” And he does, but he doesn’t hear the shifting of fabric for a moment after, as though you’re prepared to be tricked.
He tries not to startle when your cold hand touches his own. He does not resist when it is pulled from his lap, though a slight crease forms in his brow. It disappears when soft lips kiss his knuckles, replaced with another grin and a quiet chuckle. You replace his hand in his lap, and he listens as you stand to undress.
True to his word (a rare occurrence for a rogue), he sits exactly where he said he would and keeps his eyes firmly shut. He hears wet fabric slopping into a pile by the entrance, and the rustle of dry clothes and the towel as you change. He knows you’ve finished when your hand finds his again, but his eyes remain shut.
His ears twitch at the slightest sound as he listens to you lean forward. Your lips find his cheek, and then you rest your forehead on his shoulder. “Thank you,” you whisper.
He raises a hand to comb it through your hair, and leans his head against your own. “Of course, my love.”
“You’re still wet,” you point out. His pants got the brunt of the river, but his shirt wasn’t left unscathed. Fortunately, it was merely uncomfortable, and he didn’t have to worry about catching a cold. Oh, humans. “You should change, too.”
He hummed. “I will, once you let me go,” he teases lightly, pressing a kiss to your head to assure he would wait as long as you needed.
You linger for a little longer. Despite being clean, your skin feels like it crawls with the burning gaze of the incubus. The phantom of her nails glides across your back. But here, solid and real, Astarion sits, accepting your touch and offering gentle ones in return. You wished for a life filled only with his touch, not those of your enemies, or your master, or anyone else that wished you harm.
With a deep breath, you finally pull away, squeezing his hand. He opened his eyes. They were so round and soft in moments like these. He lifted your hand and kissed your knuckles. “Close your eyes, dear. I’ll only be a moment.”
You do as he asks, placing your full trust into his hands. He opens your hand to place a kiss in the center of your palm. He closes your fingers around it, as though you were holding onto his endearment for you, and rests your hand in your lap. You begin fiddling with your closed hand, refusing to open your fingers despite needing something to distract yourself with. You trusted him, but your mind had ways of believing the worst would come when your eyes shut.
He rummages through his pack to find spare clothes for himself. The shirt he wears is the best he has, despite being patched up over and over from his centuries under Cazador, but you’d graced him with extra, in case he ever needed them. Sweet thing, looking out for him in all the little ways you can think to.
His pants stick to his skin. When he grunts with disgust, though, he sees the little smile it produces, even if it lasts only a moment. He drops his pants and shirt in the pile with your own, and slips into the extra. It does feel exceptional not to be in damp clothes any longer.
Finished, he sits back down and repeats your own gesture: He takes your hand in his again and kisses your temple. “You can look now,” he murmurs against your skin.
Just touching you puts you at ease. You don’t fiddle with his hand as you hold it; you have no need to. You lean your head into him slightly, eyes still shut. “Are you hungry?”
He huffs a laugh, hot air puffing across your skin. He kisses your temple again. “I’m fine, dear. Let’s worry about you tonight, hm?”
He pulls away and helps you into your bedroll, tugging the blankets up around your neck as he always does. He slips in right after, curling around you with his arms wrapped securely around you to keep you close. Yours wrap around him as you bury your face into his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of bergamot, rosemary, and brandy.
Your breath fans across his skin as you speak lowly by his ear. “I think… I think we should promise something.”
“Hm?”
“Never again will we ever take off our clothes because someone demands it of us.”
He presses his nose into your hair. “That’s a good promise to make.”
You sigh shakily. “If she asks it of me, I don’t know that I’ll be able to refuse.” You squeeze him, pressing yourself ever closer.
“I won’t hold it against you if you do,” he assures. “And I’ll be right by your side to make sure she never gets the chance.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, darling.”
---
Tag List:
@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueencosplay @tototini @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive @thistrashisreadytobash @rosxtinted @bongwaterflavoredgatorade @the-lake-is-calling @nyxmainex @squid-killer @godoffuckedupcats
#fanfic#fanfiction#astarion#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#bg3#baldur's gate astarion#baldur's gate tav#baldurs gate astarion#baldurs gate tav#bg3 astarion#bg3 tav#gn reader#x gn reader#gender neutral reader#x gender neutral reader#hurt/comfort#i come with knives
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Hii, I'm here to drop a request~
Okay so, i have a thing for self-distrustive characters. Here's the idea: give me a self-harming hero who is too weak to act on it alone and willingly surrenders themselves to villain assuming (hoping maybe) they would torture them for information. Villain tho reluctant, doesn't hesitate to hurt the hero not too seriously tho. But for our self distrustive hero whatever the villain is doing is not enough to make them feel the relief they're seeking so~ let it slip out. Let them thoughtlessly cry out for more. And then give me a shocked villain. A concerned, regretful and lastly caring enough to treat their wounds villain. Give me an unresponsive to the villain's treatment hero. If you'd like to ass anything feel free <3
Much love to you friend, stay hydrated, we love you ~<33
It wasn’t like it didn’t hurt.
It just didn’t hurt enough. That’s why the hoarse please had slipped from their tongue. And it was why the weak more followed. Judging from their actions, the villain hadn’t heard it right away but when the hero cried harder, the villain’s hands came to a stop.
They’d broken three fingers, not to mention the shattered ankle. What had happened to their ankle had felt just but once the villain had moved on to their fingers, the hero had secretly begging them to break harder bones, like their collarbone or maybe even their ulna. It was sick, they knew it in their heart. It was maniacal and disturbing to feel like this.
Heroes were supposed to save people, even if their own well-being came in last. Saving themselves counted too.
The villain let go of their hand, eyes darting between the hero’s.
“What did you just say to me?” The villain’s hands went through the hero’s hair, getting a full grip of them, pulling them up.
The hero thought about their broken ankle. About how they wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks, maybe even a few months…? They always concentrated on the pain, rather than the period it took place in. By the time old pain faded, the hero always managed to get themselves into new trouble.
Letting injuries heal had never been an option. The villain let go of them.
It was hard. It was hard to lie there and accept their defeat, the fact that the villain had found out about their secret and more importantly, that they had stopped bruising the hero.
“Please,” the hero sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Their nose was running and their tears gathered together, falling down their cheeks like raindrops from the sky. Breathing was hard, their lungs felt frail from these past months and the world came crashing down around them.
When their sobs echoed from the walls, they felt truly defeated, humiliated, and the pain wasn’t enough to forget that.
For a moment, nothing happened. Neither of them said anything. All that was left in the room were the villain’s questions and the quiet sobs the hero made. Feeling overwhelmed by the horribleness of it all, the hero rolled themselves into a little ball, crying into their torn sleeve. They were ready for everything. Ready to die, ready to be bled, to be beaten, anything.
“Hey, easy there.” Once again, the villain combed their fingers through the hero’s hair but this time it was much more gentle and softer, leaving the hero with the taste of bile on their tongue. They braced themselves for new pain, impatiently waiting for the lashing out and the violent actions but nothing of that sort came. Quite the opposite: the villain scratched their scalp softly.
“Darling, what happened to you?” Their nails scraped across the hero’s skin, taking their time. It was oddly comfortable. Even though their muscles ached, they looked up at the villain crouching above them.
“Please,” the hero begged again. “Please hurt me.”
The villain was silent, biting their inner cheek as if they were considering it. But when they answered with a tender “no,” all hopes the hero had were crushed.
“Please.”
“You’re a mess. Hurting you seems to be what you want. I don’t want to give you what you want,” they explained. They wiped away a tear. “Don’t mistake this for compassion. This is me controlling your desires. This is me taunting you.”
They pulled the hero who had exhausted themselves and was completely defenceless into their arms.
“And this is me wanting information. Why did you say that?” They held them close and embarrassingly enough, it dawned on the hero how touch-starved they were.
“I am so alone,” they whispered. They mumbled the words, not even believing their own mouth for saying it. No one was supposed to hear this. “I am so alone.”
They started sobbing again. It was hopeless. The villain was the only comfort they had — even now that they weren’t hurting them.
“You will never be alone with me,” the villain said carefully. “I’ll make sure of that. Now, come on. Let’s treat your wounds.”
In all honesty, the hero had never done that. They weren’t sure if there were rules to it.
“If this is you taunting me,” the hero said, “then why do you want to treat my wounds?”
The villain gave them a grim look that didn’t leave room for protest.
“I’m asking the questions, not you.”
#I assume you meant destructive darling#have you ever watched beauty and the beast and seen the end titles where they thank Howard ashman for his work and have you ever called#your boyfriend after that and you were crying and he was like what happened so you told him that youre sad because Howard started the whole#disney renaissance with his lyrics and he died so young because of aids and his lyrics got a fucking Oscar but at that point he had died#already so he didnt even know that beauty and the beast had become the best Disney movie of all time past present and future and your#boyfriend just has to bite back his laugh because you didnt even know this guy and youre crying over him like#guys the Disney lore is too deep I could go on like this forever#writing snippet#heroxvillain prompt#heroxvillain snippet#heroes and villains#hero#villain#hero x villain#heroxvillain#an answer for an ask#request#whump
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Prompt || Bucky and Reader getting sick at the same time. — Requested by @raqnarokr <3
Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader
Word Count || Around 600
Contents & Warnings || Mild Angst — Bucky and Reader being kind of mean to each other.
Random prompt event || Masterlist
Usually, when either Bucky or you were sick, the other would be all healthy and good to take care of the other—making warm and delicious soup, giving the best snugs and cuddles. And just overall, be the most fantastic caretaker that would, to the best of their abilities, nurse them back to health.
But this time was the first where you and he were sick simultaneously as you'd both come down with a nasty cold. It proved to be quite challenging and annoying for both of you to be sick as you and he would, most of the time, have different needs for how to stay comfortable and for taking care of your symptoms. And you would snap at each other constantly.
—
Despite the thick fluffy sweater you were wearing while bundled up in a blanket on the sofa and cuddling close and tight to your sick boyfriend, you still shivered profusely and desperately clung to everything for that little bit of extra warmth. And Bucky was starting to complain that he was burning up.
“Doll, I feel like I'm in a furnace and dying,” he whined in a hoarse voice as he pushed himself away from you with his weak strength to sit on the opposite side of the sofa.
“No, please don't leave me,” you uttered weakly, “I'm so cold.”
“I can't. Just let me be. I'm so hot,” he said rather annoyingly as he situated himself on the other end and took off his warm sweater.
Luckily, Alpine jumped up to you and snuggled with you instead in the bundle of warmth while your grumpy boyfriend sat all cold and alone.
—
Bucky was coughing and sneezing like crazy for the last hour, and with the raging headache you were having, each noise from him was like an extra aching punch straight to your head.
“... ugh why is this happening to me?” Bucky whined after a violent coughing fit, and not a second later, he went straight on to have a sneezing fit.
You were absolutely losing it, almost at the brink of tears due to how in pain and uncomfortable you were. And since you had no energy to move, you had to endure Bucky's fits, but now, you've honestly had enough of it.
“Can you please just shut up, Bucky! My head's killing me! Please, can you just be a little bit quiet and more considerate,” you sobbed.
“I'm sorry, doll, but what do you want me to do? It's not like I can help it!” He uttered before he continued with his fits.
Taking one of the decorative pillows, you clamped it around your head and over your ears to block out his sounds.
—
After a week, you and Bucky were starting to feel much better and return to your true selves. And you both acknowledge that you'd been quite mean to one another while sick.
So after you both had a refreshing and much-needed shower, you apologized to each other.
“Bucky, I'm so sorry that I was so mean to you and yelled when you were having your fits,” you said while getting ready for bed, “I hope you know I didn't mean any of it. I love you.”
“Hey.” He made you stop what you were doing and turned you around to face him, palms cradling your cheeks. “It's ok, doll. We were both sick and not ourselves. I love you as well, and I'm sorry for leaving you all alone when you needed me the most.”
“It's ok,” you replied as you stood on your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, your noses brushing, “let's just try and not get sick at the same time again, ok? It was not fun.”
“Definitely not,” he chuckled as he pressed a long and loving kiss to your lips, a sensation you’d both missed and craved for the past week while you were both sick.
Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!
Follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!
#tfatws!bucky#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes scenario#bucky barnes fandom#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan fluff#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel fluff
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it doesn't matter
jamie drysdale x fem reader (ft. trevor zegras)
word count: 4.3k
warnings: drinking, sexual themes and mentions of sex, cursing, jamie being a fake swiftie (dw that is taken care of), reader has a guilty conscious, fluff (some angst i think), happy ending (those are rare on this blog), not proofread because i accidentally queued this so it posted on its own oops
note: i rewrote this about three times over the past two months, hope you guys are pleased with the final outcome. any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. hope you guys enjoy. have a great day, love y’all babes <3 !!!
+++
“hey you’re single right?” your head shot up at the sound of trevor, one of your closest friends, voice. you had known trevor since you moved to anaheim for college, on your first day in town he accidentally took your coffee from the pickup area at starbuck and you chased him down because you would be damned if you spent ten dollars on an iced coffee that you wouldn’t of been able to drink. it would’ve been a lie if you said you didn’t have a crush on him, he was so funny and kind and not to mention the fact that he is genuinely gorgeous, but you never acted on anything because you were worried he wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, and the fact that the two of you have had one too many drunken, and a couple sober, hookups didn’t help either.
“of course i am, or else what we did last night would’ve been morally wrong, why?” your heart rate picked up, thoughts running a mile a minute. was he about to ask you out? did he actually like you back the way you dreamed he did? was our relationship finally gonna be something more than friends who fuck at times?
“i wanna set you up with my roommate, jamie. i think you guys would like each other.”
+++
it was a crushing blow, not only did trevor just inadvertently just tell you your feelings are one sided, but that they are so one sided that he thinks his roommate would be a better match for you than himself. you felt sick to your stomach, this was in no way a heartbreak, but that doesn’t mean it can’t hurt.
“earth to y/n.” trevor’s voice shook you from your trance, you had completely forgotten he was there. “you good? you haven’t said a word in like five minutes.”
“yeah i’m fine, um who is this guy? i don’t think i’ve heard you talk about a jamie before.” you wanted this to be a joke, for trevor to say he was kidding, maybe jamie wasn’t real and he just wanted to see if i was open to a relationship right now.
“well he’s on the ducks as well, seems like your type. brunette with blue eyes, he’s got nice eyebrows too, just a couple weeks older than you, i know you don’t like extremely tall guys so him being 5’11 is perfect.” the more trevor went on about jamie the more you realized that jamie was in fact a real person and did seem like my exact type. “he has freckles too, i know you love those on guys and he looks good in the color green, he checks off all your boxes y/n.” you hated that he did.
“can i see a picture before i agree to anything?” you didn’t want trevor to get suspicious when you said no, so you wanted to seem like you were at least considering it.
“absolutely.” looking over at trevor’s phone you let out a small sound of surprise.
he was gorgeous
“trevor why have you never told me about him before?” you said, grabbing his phone to go through all of his instagram posts. “he is literally beautiful!”
“i honestly didn’t even think about it, but jamie saw you at our party last week and asked about you and i knew i had to make you two happen.” trevor said, taking his phone back. “come over tonight. we’re having a party before the season starts, you’ll be able to meet jamie.”
+++
it didn’t take you very long to get ready, your hair and makeup having already been done from your errands earlier in the day, but you did struggle picking out an outfit as every twenty year old girl would. you didn’t quite know who it was that you were dressing up for, in previous months it was always trevor. you were always hoping that he would see you and you would end up staying with him until the morning. while that was usually the case, the second part of your fantasy never came true. the part where trevor realizes he has feelings for you that go further than seeing you as a good fuck. but now there was jamie, you hadn’t even met him yet and you were still wanting to impress him. maybe trevor would see you with jamie and it would make him realize his feelings for you. but jamie seemed nice, once trevor left you looked him up and watched a few too many tiktoks and interviews involving him, he seemed like the polar opposite of trevor and that might just be what you need, it also doesn’t hurt that he was just about one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in your life, trevor was not lying when he said that jamie was your exact type. settling on a simple pink top and black jeans you made your way towards the uber trevor had ordered for you, palms sweaty and legs slightly shaking as you confirmed where you were headed before you saw your apartment complex disappear in the distance.
+++
“y/n thank god you’re here, i was starting to think you were pussying out.” trevor loudly yelled as he approached you, great he was already at least three drinks in. “catch up” he said once he was standing in front of you, handing you a beer.
“i don’t drink this crap, you know this.” you said, shaking your head as trevor silently continued to push the can in your face.
“fine, i bought you some caymans. they’re in the garage fridge, but don’t take too long, jamie is excited to meet you.” you ignored the way his eyebrows wiggled as you began walking towards the garage.
once you were in there you grabbed two drinks, just so you wouldn’t have to come back out for at least half an hour, as well as a shooter. you needed the liquid confidence that would come from the tiny bottle of pink whitney.
once you made your way back into the party you walked around looking for trevor, stopping a couple of times to greet those you knew, before you found him sitting with the man of the hour.
“y/n! come here, meet jamie.” trevor waved you over, you took a generous sip of the alcohol in your hand before making your way over, sitting down on the couch. trevor in the middle of us, as he began rambling to no one in particular about something you didn’t quite know, your ears tuning him out as the sound of your heartbeat in your ears took over all your senses.
“y/n, are you even listening to me?” trevor asked you, gently poking the exposed part of your waist.
“no.” the laugh you heard after that made a bush creep up your neck, jamie’s laugh was just as beautiful as he was.
“rude, anyways y/n this is jamie. jamie, this is y/n.” he motioned the two of you towards each other as he talked, jamie reached in front of him to offer you his hand. “now get to know one another, i’m gonna go play pong.” trevor stood up before you could protest him leaving you alone with jamie.
you expected it to be awkward, but it wasn’t. conversation was flowing between the two of you like you had known each other for years, you talked about the basics, what tv shows you enjoyed, favorite movies, taste in music, which then led to a thirty minute discussion about taylor swift and how jamie claimed he was a swiftie but couldn’t name any songs that weren’t played on the radio
“i have a lot to teach you i guess.” you were definitely making it obvious that you were interested in him, but you didn’t care. you’d usually be so shy around a guy so cute, but something about jamie made you calm, that was the simplest way to put it.
“i would love that.” the blush on his face matched yours. you smiled at him, contemplating whether or not you wanted to ask the question you had been wanting the answer to all night.
“so why have i never seen you around or met you before? i’ve known trevor for almost two years now, and i’m over here quite a lot.”
“i usually just stay in my room all day, especially during parties, i’m not the biggest fan of them.”
“then why are you out here right now and not bunkered up in your room?”
“i wanted to meet you, to get to know you.” jamie answered, scratching the back of his head and giving you a sheepish smile. “i came downstairs last weekend to grab something from the kitchen and that's when i saw you, i really lucked out that you are friends with trevor or else i probably never would’ve been able to find out who you were.”
you nodded at his response, informing him that you were glad you were friends with trevor too.
“speaking of him, i was hoping to see him again before i left.” you told jamie, standing up from your spot on the couch noticing his slightly upset expression. “let me give you my number, i would love to see you again, maybe begin my lessons on taylor swift to you.”
“i would love that.”
+++
after exchanging contact information with jamie you made your way outside towards the pong tables, hoping that trevor would still be out there.
“hey trevor, i was just about to leave, wanted to say goodbye.” you said approaching him in the dimly lit yard.
“you’re leaving already? i didn’t even get any time with you.” he pouted, resting his chin on your shoulder his arms loosely around your waist.
“sorry trev, but i got to know jamie. don’t let this get to your head, but i think you might be a pretty good wingman.” you joked, your arms around his neck gently running your hands through the ends of his hair. it wasn’t abnormal for the two of you to be so affectionate, so this felt normal.
“good, i’m glad.” his tone didn’t sound like his statement, but you could easily chalk that up to the alcohol in his system finally wearing him down.
“why don’t i help you get into bed? basically everyone has left already.” you suggested, forcing his head up to meet yours at your eye level.
he smirked before responding. “i like where this was going.”
“nothing like that buddy, besides you just set me up with your best friend that wouldn’t be a good idea, don’t you think?”
“that's not fair, you can’t do that.” he mumbled, his head dropping back down into the crook of your neck. “you can’t say you're taking me to bed, and then not take me to bed the way i want you to take me to bed."
you rolled your eyes at his comment and began dragging him back inside and up towards his room. once you wrestled him out of his jeans, giving up on putting pants on him because of his multiple attempts to lure you into bed, you got him to lay down and made sure he was comfortable before you headed downstairs to get some water and pain killers for him to take once he woke up in the morning.
“goodnight trevor.”
you made your way outside onto the front lawn while you waited for your uber to arrive. you usually would’ve taken trevor up on his offer to spend the night with him, but something about even just thinking about doing that was now making you feel guilty. it wasn’t like you and jamie were in a committed relationship or anything, but he seemed to genuinely like you and was actually interested in getting to know you and you didn’t want to do anything to sabotage that.
+++
from: unknown number
can we meet up today for coffee or lunch? i would love to start becoming a real swiftie.
to: unknown number
am i right in assuming this is jamie??
from: unknown number
yes 🙃
to: jamie🤭
i would love to meet up.
to: jamie🤭
could we get lunch? i am literally starving because of my hangover.
from: jamie🤭
absolutely. send me your address, i’ll come pick you up.
+++
you were in full panic mode, you had no idea what to wear and the fact that it was visibly obvious that you were hungover didn’t help at all. you told jamie to give you at least thirty minutes, after he told you that an hour was too long.
you took the fastest shower you ever have in your life before tackling the biggest issue, your outfit. you went through every drawer, bin, and your closet before you decided on biker shorts and a crewneck. you could only hope that jamie wasn’t planning on taking you somewhere with a dress code.
makeup was applied and your hair was pulled into a claw clip before jamie texted you that he was outside, you did some final touches before you made your way out of your apartment complex. you lucked out seeing that jamie was in a comfy outfit just like you were. once you were buckled up jamie handed you his phone and told you to pick the music before driving off.
+++
“so what is your all time favorite taylor swift song?” jamie asked once he joined you in the booth you found for the two of you, he had taken you to in and out claiming he was craving a burger, and you didn’t complain because you would never pass up the opportunity to fuck up some animal fries.
“i don’t have just one, i think it is humanly impossible to have just one.” you told him, taking a sip of your lemonade before continuing. “i do, however, have a list of my top sixteen songs by her in no particular order.”
“sixteen songs? that’s insane.”
“she has over two hundred songs, you’ve got a lot of listening to do.”
“well why don’t you give me your list of songs, the only ones i really care about are the ones you like.” you blushed at his words, before stating all of your favorite songs by her. his only responses were “i don’t know that one, never heard of it, i know that one, wait no i don’t”
once you were done and jamie confirmed all the songs were now added to his spotify you two began eating as you gave him a run down of her career.
“so who is your favorite and least favorite ex of hers?”
“i hope you don’t have plans for the rest of the day because i have a lot to say on this.”
+++
“do you want to get dessert? there is a nice ice cream place a few minutes from here.” jamie asked while you two were walking around huntington beach. you didn’t even realize how long the two of you had been hanging out until he asked if you wanted to get dinner, and now three hours after that when he is now asking to get dessert.
“yea i would love to.” he smiled down at you and you made the move to hold his hand. “sorry, i hope this is ok, i just wanted to hold your hand.” you blushed, turning your head away from him.
“it’s ok, i wanted to as well.” he blushed as well before he began leading the way towards the ice cream shop.
+++
“i had a lot of fun today, i was honestly a little nervous that with both of us sober it would be a little awkward, but it wasn’t and i would like to see you again. soon. sorry if that is a bit forward.” you told jamie as he pulled up in front of your apartment.
“i’d like to see you soon too, like tomorrow soon. are you busy tomorrow? we could get dinner, a nice place this time, not that in and out and qdoba aren’t nice it’s just-”
“yea i would love to, just send me the restaurants info before so i can figure out what to wear.”
“you’ll look beautiful in whatever you wear y/n.” you blushed at jamie’s comment before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. you were quick to get out of the car, yelling a goodbye as you ran into the front doors of your building.
+++
“finally you’re back. where the hell were you? i’ve been here for hours.”
“how the hell did you get into my apartment trevor?” you asked the boy who was sprawled out across your couch eating your food. “stop eating my wheat thins asshole.”
“i found your spare key, i mean hiding it on the top of the door frame is just a horrible idea y/n.” trevor said as he went back into your kitchen, hopefully to put your snacks away.
“what are you doing her trev?” you asked, taking your shoes off before making your way into the living room.
“where were you? you’re never out late, and i got here at like two and it’s now eleven. did you pick up a shift?” trevor was quick to join you on the couch, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over the two of you.
“no, i was actually with jamie, he picked me up at noon to get lunch and then we spent the whole day together.” you blushed remembering how much fun you had today and how it was the first time in a while that you had enjoyed a date that much.
“oh, i didn’t realize that you two were getting along that well.” trevor said, reaching towards the table to grab the remote. “what the hell did you two talk about for nearly twelve hours? jamie cannot be that interesting of a guy.”
“we started off talking about taylor swift and how he is a fake swiftie, just like you are.” trevor cut you off with a gasp and hit you with the pillow he was using. “and then we talked about our childhoods, stories from school and growing up where we did.” you smiled at nothing, just reflecting on this one story jamie had told you about his worst halloween costume, which you then one upped with your own horrible halloween story. “thanks for pushing me to meet him trevor, i know it’s only been a day but i feel an actual connection with him and i can’t remember the last time i felt that with a guy.”
+++
you and jamie had been going on dates multiple times a week for the past month now and tonight the team had the night off and jamie was taking you to his favorite restaurant for date night. you weren’t dating, yet, but both you and jamie have spoken about it as something you both want. it’s just up to when the timing is right.
“where is he taking you out tonight?” trevor asked you as he joined you in your bedroom. you called him over to help you pick out an outfit for tonight.
“cortina’s” it wasn’t a black tie restaurant, but it wasn’t a jeans and a tshirt restaurant either. “i was thinking my black leather pants and then a nice top, maybe my pink top with the mesh sleeves?” you were met with silence from your best friend, “hello? earth to trevor.”
“sorry what?” you rolled your eyes before entering the bathroom, changing into the outfit you had in mind. “what do you think?”
“i think that jamie isn’t coming to pick you up for another two hours and that gives us plenty of time to have some fun.” trevor said, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you open mouth kisses on the exposed skin of your neck down to your shoulder, you let yourself revel in the feeling before you snapped back into your senses.
“trevor stop.” you pushed his arms off of you as you distanced yourself from him. “trevor you can’t do that, we can’t do this anymore.”
“why not y/n? you and jamie aren’t dating, there is nothing wrong with it. it’s been a month and i’m getting frustrated.” he groaned, flopping down onto your bed.
“that is not my issue trev, don’t blame me. i can guarantee that there are at least one hundred girls in your dm’s right now who would be willing to hook up with you, go bother one of them.” you snapped back at him, not in the mood.
“i don’t want some random girl, i want you y/n. aren’t you in the mood even a little bit, it’s been a month for you too.” you avoided his eyes as you made your way to your vanity to begin your makeup. “wait have you been fucking jamie? what the fuck y/n?”
“trevor you have no right to be upset, we are nothing. you were the one who set us up. isn’t this what you wanted?”
“no this isn’t what i wanted, i should’ve just made jamie make a move on his own. if that was the case you would still have no idea who the hell he was because jamie is too much of a little-”
“get out.” you cut trevor off before he could say anything worse. “trevor get out and don’t talk to me until you manage to get your head out of your ass.”
+++
“is everything okay? you seem a bit off.” jamie asked, he was right. after your argument with trevor you had been a bit out of it, the guilt of what you had done with trevor in the past was eating away at you.
“could we talk about it later? i don’t want to ruin dinner.” your voice was shaky as you spoke.
“yes of course, but i’m gonna be honest i’m a little worried now.” jamie said, playing with the napkin on his lap.
“i am too, don't worry.” your attempt at a joke didn’t help, but thankfully the waiter came to take our orders.
+++
dinner was terrible.
you two tried your hardest to have everything be normal and how things had been in the past month, but both of you were worried about what you had to say. jamie was scared you were gonna break things off with him, he was already nervous for tonight because he was going to ask to make things official between you two, and now he was even more on edge. while you were worried that after you told him about you and trevor’s past that he would no longer want anything to do with you and would break things off before they even got fully started.
“so can you tell me what is going on?” jamie asked once you two had exited the restaurant and were sitting in his car.
“i want you to know that this started before i even knew you existed and it stopped the moment i met you.” you took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. “trevor and i had been hooking up, for nearly the whole time we were friends, but i swear to you the second i met you i cut it off. i’m really sorry for not telling you sooner, it’s just that i really, really, like you and i didn’t want anything to jeopardize that, even though keeping it a secret probably wasn’t the best alternative.” you looked out the window, avoiding his gaze, afraid of how badly he was judging you right now. “i understand if you don’t want to continue this anymore, you can just drop me off right here and i’ll uber home.”
“y/n. i don’t care.” you finally peeled your eyes away from the reflection of the cars in the side view mirror to see jamie looking at you with a smile. “your previous relationships are none of my business, yes it is a bit uncomfortable that he is my roommate and one of my closest friends, as well as one of yours, but i really, really, like you too so that doesn’t matter to me.” you smiled back at him, a few tears building up in your waterline. “i was actually going to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend, and i still want to. so y/n would you make me the happiest man alive and officially become my girlfriend?”
“yes jamie, i would be honored.” you leaned over the center console and kissed his cheek, to not distract him from the road. “it sounds like you proposed jamie.” you laughed. “are things going to be weird around trevor for you?” you hated the idea of being the cause of their falling out, or to have any team problems sprout from this.
“yes.” jamie replied bluntly. “and i’m definitely not the biggest fan of you two hanging out without me there, at least for a little bit, but it’ll all work out. i won’t let it get to me or my game, but the second he makes a comment about you it’s over.”
you giggled before replying with a short “got it.” and placed your hand over his.
“and don’t worry, i never plan on going anywhere without you drysdale. you’re gonna have to start coming to girls' nights too.”
+++
note: i actually rewrote this three times and each time the plot was different, the last version was so much juicer and had so much drama (trevor realized he was in love with reader, but he was too late dun dun DUNNNN) but i cut that out because i couldn’t get the wording right. anyways i hope y’all enjoyed, leave feedback (any and all is appreciated), have a great day, i love y’all babes <3 !!!
#jamie drysdale#jamie drysdale imagine#jamie drysdale x reader#anaheim ducks#nhl imagine#ahonice writes
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tears to shed iv - simon 'ghost' riley
masterlist // masterlist call of duty
requested: no, but requests are OPEN!
request: x
A/N: last part! hope this makes up for the sad ending last part <3
part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4
wordcount:
warnings: ooc simon (like, very ooc), corpse bride au, she/her reader, happy ending
An arranged marriage to unite two worlds. But no one would have expected that it would bring together the living and the dead.
Your parents were much happier to hear that they were up in the social ladder now than that they were to hear that you had come back. Lord and Lady MacTavish also could not care less - as long as they got money, they would be set.
It is not like life with Johnny was bad. Not at all, actually. You had fun with him, and he was someone you feel comfortable with. He is so trustworthy, funny, and nice. It truly could have been so much worse.
The years pass, new people coming to the town, other people leaving. Babies are being born and elderly people are passing away. You aren't scared of death anymore - you have lived in it, you have loved in it.
Marriage to Johnny is like marrying a best friend. Both you and Johnny found out quite early on that you did love each other, yet more like friends or family instead of lovers. Not that you thought the other was ugly, mean, or uninteresting. It was just platonic, but to be quite honest, you did not mind.
You could be on the street, or worse, married to a horrible person. Lucky for you, you are 'stuck' with Johnny. Every single day felt refreshing, always going on trips or eating a delicious dinner. Your mother and father barely came to visit, saying they were much too busy with their new way of life. Lord and Lady MacTavish were also not seen very often, always far away, enjoying the money they now had.
Years seem to fly by.
The older you get, the faster time goes.
Your body is becoming weaker, the people around you have left, and the house feels much too big for only two people. It is winter now, and sickness is going around, a sickness that had also gotten the better of Johnny.
You sat by his side, his body covered with endless blankets, coughs coming from him ever so often.
"You are burning up," you mumble, your hand on his forehead.
He does not respond, only looking at the ceiling before finally turning his head to you. This is the most movement he has gone through this entire week. Johnny stays quiet for a moment, blinking slowly before licking his lips.
"Is the afterlife scary?"
"No," you softly say, taking hold of his hand, "It is fun, free, careless. You will have your own place, and you can have endless drinks at the bar. It is colourful and bright."
He hums, his hand softly squeezing yours as he looks past you.
"I think I would like to go there."
Your breath hitches in your throat, tears burning in your eyes as you look at him, bringing your other hand to his cheek.
"You do?"
Nothing but a hum yet again, his eyes looking past you.
"Y/N?"
"Yes?"
"Will you find me there?"
You nod, pressing a kiss to his hand.
"I will."
"Can you promise me something?"
Your heart feels heavy.
"Anything."
"After you find me... Also find Simon. That one man from years ago," he whispers, coughing, "If it... If it truly is as you said, then please, find him. Live the life you couldn't live now."
"Johnny," a tear falls down your cheek, "You are acting as if my life with you was not good."
"Oh, lass, we had a wonderful life. But the afterlife you describe... It is your second chance. Take it, please."
One last promise you make to him. Through sickness, through health, till death do you part.
"I promise you, Johnny. I love you so."
"And I love you."
After one last breath, one last blink, he leaves you. Leaves you behind as you did that one night, though you know he will not come back. More tears fall down your cheeks as you press a soft kiss to his forehead. Another friend lost.
You then spent months alone. No visitors, no Johnny, no parents.
It was weird.
The world seems so grey, so bleak, so colourless. There is nothing for you here. You eat just to eat, you read just to read. Everything seems meaningless. Another night where you go to sleep in a cold bed.
But this time, when you wake up, you feel different.
Your bones don't hurt, your limbs don't feel heavy, your hair doesn't feel brittle. Instead, you feel lively, weightless, free.
"A new arrival!"
Is the time finally here?
You open your eyes, the lights very bright, and you nearly can not believe what you see. It's the bar, the people, the music, the drinks.
"Wait..."
You quickly turn around, coming eye to eye with Johnny.
"Lass?"
You nod slowly, a smile forming on your face as you fling your arms around him.
"Oh, Johnny!" You pull away from him for a second, your hands on his cheeks, "I can't believe it! Oh, you look so young."
He does not nearly look the same as when you last saw him. His skin isn't wrinkly, his eyes are bright, and he has the same silly haircut.
"Says you," he grins, holding out his cup to you, "You look as mighty as ever."
You look at his cup and back at him. You are actually here. But, if you are... Is Simon here as well? Johnny still has a smile on his face, taking a swig from his beer. He knows what, or rather who, you are looking for.
"Go on," he nods his head to the exit, "We will have eternity to celebrate that you're here. Go, we can talk later."
You press a kiss to his cheek, nodding as you lift up the bottom of your skirt, walking up the stairs that lead to the outside of the bar. You are met with a mirror, right next to the door. You look so much younger, almost as if no time had passed. Dressed in a nightgown, your hair done up, looking youthful as ever. The age when you first got here, gone back in time, just like Johnny.
The roads, the coffins, the lights - all are exactly as you remember them being. You have dreamt of taking this exact walk dozens of times, clenching onto the dogtags that you had yet to take off. Now, you actually walk there, the tags tight in your hand. A left here, straight, and then...
You are so absorbed by your own thoughts that you do not register the person in front of you. You yelp, nearly falling over, but catching yourself by holding onto a crate.
"Oh, sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!"
"Y/N?"
You look up, you know that voice...
"Price?"
"I can't believe it!" He laughs, pulling you to him to give you a big hug, "You are here! Oh my god, wait until Simon hears about this. You are going to give him a heart attack!"
"Where is he?"
"At home," he backs off, nodding his head into the direction of the house, "Hasn't been out too much. Kept his mask back on, been in a real mood for a while. You know, he never got over you."
He still thinks of you?
"Neither have I," you whisper, looking up at the man.
"Oh, I know," he only shrugs, "Johnny and I have become well acquainted over these months. Sadly haven't been able to really talk to Simon too much, but I think that might change."
The two of you continue your way, only a few doors away from the love of your afterlife. What if he doesn't want to see you? What if you are not like how he expected? Maybe he does not wish for a life with you.
"Don't worry your little head, Y/N," Price whispers, stopping at the door, "I will leave you be. Come by the bar later?"
You nod, sending him a smile as he leaves you alone at the door. What now? Do you knock? You feel nervous, yet you don't feel the pounding of your heart or the sweat in your hands. You are excited, though you can't feel the butterflies in your stomach.
A soft knock on the door.
Was it not hard enough? What if he isn't home? What if he didn't hear? What if he acts like he doesn't hear so he doesn't have to answer-
"Price, I told ya, I don't want to go to the-" the door gets ripped open, revealing the masked man you have thought about each and every day, "pub."
"We don't have to if you don't wish to, Simon."
"Wh... Is that you?"
He grips your cheeks tightly, scared that if he lets go, you will disappear. His eyes scan your face, the rest of his face hidden behind the skull mask he wore when you met him. You nod as much as you can, but the tight grip barely allows for you to move. Within a second, you are in his arms, his arms around you and his head on top of yours. Even if you wanted to, you could never get out of this embrace.
"I can't believe it. You are here."
"I am here," you confirm.
"I have waited each and every day. Price told me your husband came here before you did."
You nod.
"He did. But he made me promise him something."
What did he promise? Should Simon be scared? Are you only here to say hello, only to never see him again?
"He wants me to have a second chance. To life my... afterlife, the way it was intended. With you."
He slowly lets go, looking down at you with big eyes. His tags still around your neck and you looking like an angel. Is this real? Someone, pinch him, though it will not work.
"With me?"
"Johnny and I were friends. Best friends, even," you whisper, holding onto Simon his hands, "He told me to find you, Simon. And, if you will have me, I would want to spend this eternity with you."
That is all that he has ever wanted to hear.
So, he gets down on one knee.
"Death made us part, but now brought us together," he kisses your knuckles, "May I ask you to be my wife, for now until forever?"
One hell of a way to ask you to marry him.
#simon riley imagine#ghost imagine#call of duty imagine#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#call of duty x reader#simon ghost riley#corpse bride! ghost
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Musa: The Thesis
Kay so… this one involves one of the biggest spoilers of s3 due to one of the biggest changes I made there revolves around Musa and I will be discussing it after the First Things First part. So please please please if you haven’t read up until Season 3 Chapter 24: The Space Between Where Our Ends Meet, DO NOT READ PAST THE FIRST THINGS FIRST PORTION OF THIS THESIS
I’M SERIOUS PLS DON’T
First Things First
The first words I have in Musa’s character sheet are small sassy goth.
One of the main things I focused on with Musa, especially in the first season is her struggle to be vulnerable. Musa has lived the past 5 or so years with a closed off dad and never got a real chance to truly mourn her mom due to her having to learn to pretty much take care of herself, because of this she becomes very defensive and doesn't trust many people, and it causes her to struggle with being vulnerable, making her feel weak to do so. Here we see her open up slowly to the girls and not really talk that much about her home life until s2.
This is also where the main problem in her relationship with Riven comes in, but we’ll talk about that later on.
Musa, along with Aisha was the loneliest Winx before going to Alfea, and this plays into how protective she can be over the girls, she knows what it’s like to have no one so she is more than ready to throw hands for her girls any day of the week.
Love’s a Loaded Gun, Nobody Wants to Fight
A theme we see with Musa is her not believing she’s really worth a lot of time. She worried about staying one place too long and becoming an inconvenience or sharing her hurt and becoming a weight.
We see that it really takes a lot for her to believe that she is not being selfish or ‘too much’ by expressing herself or deciding to stay in one place, namely Tecna’s home.
Musa has a lot of feelings regarding feeling like she’s being shut out.
She’s working on not shutting people out herself but when others do it to her, she could just have a breakdown since she is so sick and tired of her dad doing it to her and that’s just about the worst thing you could do to her.
She’s a tiny bit afraid of love. Not so much of love itself as just, the thought of losing someone she loves again.
Haunted
So… this is the part with the huge S3 spoiler so PLEASE TURN BACK NOW, THIS WAS ONE OF THE MOST IMPACTFUL MOMENTS OF S3 MY INBOX WAS FLOODED FOR A WEEK IF YOU HAVEN’T READ IT YET TURN BACK NOW
So, in s3 chapter 24 Musa gains her Enchantix… and kills Stormy in the process.
First off the second I decided to do s3 I knew I was gonna change how Musa got her Enchantix cause I think we can all agree she got the short end of the stick in the OG.
I also already had in mind killing off either Stormy or Darcy but Stormy just fit more.
I combined these two ideas by changing Musa’s Enchantix to be gained by taking down a building over herself and Stormy due to Stormy loosing control of a curse.
Now, this could’ve gone very differently so why did I chose Musa to be the one to kill Stormy?
Honestly? I felt like it would impact her the most.
Now, obvs any of the girls would’ve been hugely impacted by taking a life (see Tecna) but taking the life of one of the Trix who they’ve known and fought for so long is another level of personal.
And, just like Bloom, Musa can be a very angry person and she hated the Trix’s guts and maybe a tiny part of her would’ve been glad with them dead, but actually having a hand in it…
It creates very conflicting emotions and a mountain of trauma and feelings of inhumanity and just confusion for our girl which we will get to see a lot more of in s4.
Thoughts Behind her Main Relationships
Tecna
I love Tecna and Musa, they are very much a friendship between unconventional girls who don’t always come across as they mean to.
They both struggle to make friends for different reasons but the second they meet they realize that they are quite similar and so never push each other outside of their comfort zone at first and that’s what allows them to become close enough to then push one another.
Musa gets what makes Tecna tick and makes sure that she’s comfortable, she makes sure she gets her alone time and makes sure she doesn’t get overwhelmed.
Tecna gets that Musa doesn’t want to talk about herself so instead gets her to open up about her music.
And it’s through this that they start to trust one another and by s2 we see them knowing each other well enough to keep the other from spiraling.
When Tecna’s confused about her feelings for Timmy, it’s Musa who reminds her that it’s okay to not be ready for a relationship. And when Musa and Riven first kiss, it’s Tecna who suggests they take it slow since she knows how skittish they can both be.
At this point, they push one another when they need to.
They are crucial to each other’s growth.
Riven
I always loved the idea of Rivusa but hated the original execution.
I really like the idea of two kids who have been so hurt by the people that were meant to protect them figuring out how to love each other. How to be open and trusting and just how to work as a couple.
Riven and Musa fall very slowly over the course of a year and a half, they get to know each other, be friends, quite crucially: they’re able to be vulnerable with each other. Which is huge for both of them.
And, when they realize that these feelings are serious and more than just a crush, they are both terrified.
I’ll talk a bit more about Riven’s feelings on his thesis but for Musa, she’s scared of this failing, of flying till the bone crush like the queen would say. She’s scared of it going wrong and losing someone she loves so much.
The part I love about this is that this means that even after they get together we get to see them fuck up. Because just because they’re together doesn’t mean they’re just going to forget years of trauma and having their walls up.
And, in my version, once they’re together, it’s Musa who fucks up by keeping secrets and not being able to bring herself to be vulnerable.
I think my fave part about writing these two is writing about how they grow together both as individuals and as a couple, how they learn to communicate and be vulnerable and realize that they are both here to stay and that this relationship is soft and safe and everything that they have been denied for so long.
That’s what this couple is to me. Two kids learning to love and not be afraid of it.
Helia
Helia and Musa are the writers of the group, due to them both being artist and having had past or present issues with their fathers and being vulnerable, it made sense for them to be platonic soulmates.
They’re the kind of people to spill their guts out of paper and just take a pen and truly speak, word vomit comes out in prose and metaphors and long words that just make you feel serene.
That’s how they find it easier to communicate.
They bond over words and music and the crushing weight of a knot in your throat not letting you speak when it matters most. The falling feeling of everything coming out wrong when spoken but in a beautiful way when written.
Helia is the only person Musa co-writes with for her songs, because he gets her voice as a songwriter in a way that no one else does.
And Helia shared his favorite poems because he knows she’ll get them in the way few could.
They are the artists who write not just because they enjoy and love it, but because it’s a crucial part of who they are, of how they process things and how to keep going.
If you wanna get to know these two, the best way to do it is to look at what they write.
And that’s why they just click.
Who is Musa in this Rewrite?
Musa is a girl who’s hurt. Who has lost and has had to almost raise herself.
She’s done the best that she could but the best she could do to protect herself at the time, back home with her father was to build walls around herself.
She’s someone who is learning to be open and vulnerable and to believe the people she loves won’t leave.
She’s someone trying to leave behind a toxic environment and mindset.
Someone who is, in one word haunted. By her past, by both her parents be it in different ways, by words, by Stormy.
But she’s learning to live with it, to still grow and to not take steps back in her journey.
She’s an artist finding her meaning and voice.
—————
Masterlist
Musa Moodboard
Musa’s Instagram
Musa and Tecna Moodboard
Musa and Riven Moodboard
Musa and Helia Moodboard
—————
so this one took so long cause I couldn’t figure out how to word certain things and tbh I feel like this one is the worst one so far so pls validate me and tell me it was good I feel like crying but I think I managed to get everything across
#winx rewrite#winx headcannon#winx club#winx fanfic#winx#winx headcanons#winx club rewrite#winx musa#veiled wings and shattered panoramas
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The Missing Piece
Chapter 2: Strange Feelings
Chapter Summary: Goodneighbor is facing quite some problems but Hancock needs a break. It's hard to concentrate with his mind spiraling back to the woman from the vault.
Wordcount: 2159
Chapter Index:
Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9
Masterlist
The last week has been a mess.
The group of green skins that have attacked Nick and Blue settled down not far away from Goodneighbor. In fact, they came far too close for Hancock’s liking. He and Fahrenheit spend the last few days working hard on finding a solution. So hard even that John didn’t have time to take one of his little chem breaks every now and then to take off the edge.
His usually blurred mind sobered up over the time and got almost completely clear and sharp and it just wouldn’t shut up. Though being sober isn't something John is unfamiliar with, the sheer chaos in his head had kept him from concentrating.
Thoughts were racing through his head, bringing past demons back into focus. His mind zoned out constantly, brought him back to diamond city, to the things he did and didn’t do. But the worst part was the anxiety. Out of the blue he’d feel knots tightening in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He’d find himself clenching onto his sofas or desk, his chest heaving. At first he thought it might be some kind of bad tripping or a response to the never ending flood of pictures in his head. But he knows what that feels like and it doesn’t come close to whatever is going on with him now. It’s something he has no idea how to handle.
His nerve-racking arm was just the cherry on the top. Amari couldn’t find what was causing that unpleasant feeling and ended up just injecting Med-X. It did not help in the slightest, but Hancock didn’t bother to tell her. He thanked her for her help with Blue and his arm and quickly left.
“Hancock, what the fuck?” She asks, looking up from the map on the table. John’s face stays unreadable sternly, if she wouldn’t know him as well as she does, she’d find it quite intimidating. “That’s just bullshit! Are you even listening to what I’m saying? We are low on supplies as it is.” She points onto the map. “We can't go in with two teams, the two blocks are still raider territory, we'd have to -"
Needless to say that John’s mood soured quickly over the past few days and Fatenheit is getting sick of it.
“I’ve said two teams and two teams will get sent.” His voice is uncomfortably calm. The guards around the makeshift warrable share uneasy glances. Hancock has been really on edge like he is right now. To call the atmosphere in the room tense would be an understatement.
Fahrenheit doesn’t care about what he wants. “I won’t send our men on a suicide mission just because these mutants hurt the robots little girlfriend.”
John's knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the table. “You do as I say.”
“Nope. Know what, I’m out.” Fahrenheit rounds the table to go for the door. She snips into the air, getting her men moving out of the room. “I am fucking tired of your irrational and stubborn orders. We'll adjourn this whole revenge trip of yours until you get your shit together. Go get your ass to The Third Rail and get wasted or something. It is absolutely impossible to work with you right now!" And with that the woman steps out of the office, leaving Hancock alone in the dim light of a few candles.
He's furious. How dare she talk to him like that? As much as he treasures their friendship, this woman is crossing lines. At the end of the day, he's the mayor and she's just his right hand. He's in charge and that's something she needs to keep in mind. it's one thing to yell at him when they are private and talking eye to eye, no problem with that. But she has to fucking stay in line when it is business related. Especially with their men around.
Her current disobedience is maddening. And the damn migraine isn't helping either. Or his shaking hands. Or the cold sweet. For fuck sake, withdrawals already? The absolute last thing he wants to do is admitting that Fahrenheit was right. Maybe he really should take a break and drown himself in cheap whisky that would make humans go blind. Maybe combined with jet, slowing his spinning mind that won't shut up about things he'd rather not think about.
Well, If they are still having jet and whisky, or alcohol in general that is. Their supply line is still cut. Another problem Hancock still has to solve. Maybe the mutants will kill the raiders or the other way around. That would be the easiest way but that again, nothing in the Commonwealth is easy.
Whatever. There is still an untouched 'survival kit' of all kinds of chems in the drawer of the mayor's desk. It definitely won't save his life when his town of criminals and junkies revolt against him for letting them dry down but at least he would be far away in mindless bliss when they paint his office with his guts.
Damn, since when did his thoughts go down such dark roads? John shakes his head, he really needs a break before his thoughts drive him crazy. With a sigh he takes his pack of smokes and leaves for The Third Rail.
When he passes Ham with a nod in greeting and enters the bar, he gets hit by the smell of cheap perfume, booze, smoke and vomit. Home.
The ghouls face cracks a smile when he sees his favorite detective sitting right at the bar, downing a longdrink, that smells exactly like coolant. Hancock takes the chair next to him. "Look who's here. Mind some company, Nicky?"
The synth huffs a laugh and takes a sip from his drink before he answers. "Not at all. And who am I to reject the mayor of Goodneighbor?"
Hancock orders two whiskeys and downs them both in one needy gulp. The liquid slowly burns its way down John's throat. Damn, he really needed that. While savoring the slow burn, he puts the glasses down with a loud clink.
Nick eyes Hancock with a questioning frown. "Ehm. A bit eager, are we?" Charlie refills the glasses without a comment and hovers away to the other guests.
John pulls out a pack of smokes from his pocket, taking one out and offers Nick one as well. The detective doesn't say no but the frown doesn't leave his face when he takes one.
"Long day in the office." John sighs as he lights up his cigarette before taking a long drag. "How are you doing, Nicky, everyone treating you alright?"
Nick simply nods before he takes another sip. "Yeah, yeah."
John notices the tiredness in the synth's voice. Something is the matter. "So." The ghoul starts. "And what is your excuse for being here? Despite the girls and drinks?" Hancock lets his gaze wander through the bar. All familiar faces are sitting on crates, listening to Magnolia, drinking, fainting. Nothing out of the ordinary. A black haired woman meets his eyes, she smiles at him from under her bangs. Hancock acknowledges her by tipping his hat down a bit before he returns his attention back to his friend who still didn't answer his question.
Nick's eyes are glued at the almost empty glass in his hand while he takes long drags of his cigarette. He looks lost in thought, like he is pouting for whatever reason. "C'mon Nicky, what's bothering you? Everything alright with your vaultie?"
The synth just shakes his head. Eventually he sighs, "No, not really." John feels his stomach drop at that. Were her injuries more severe than they thought, did she catch an infection? All kinds of scenarios are floating around in his head. Nick takes another drag, "But I guess the Doc already told you."
Actually she didn't. John hasn’t talked to her since Nick and Blue came into town. His arm did really go on his nerves, but he didn’t want to bother Amari with it again. He figured it might be part of his ghoulification. Losing some parts other than the nose and ears is normal, usually a toe or two. To lose whole limbs is possible but it's very, very rare. Definitely not something John would be looking forward to but in the end he knew what he got himself into when he made his decision to become one.
Also the last days were very stressful. He was so occupied with his arm and the super mutants, he simply forgot to ask the doc about the woman from a vault.
Which is a total lie.
John found his mind taking him back to the night where Nick and Blue stumbled through the gates ever so often. But lying to himself is easier than facing his worries for a person he barely met. Or the strange clenching of his guts whenever he memorized Blue’s wound and the sheer amount of blood all over her suit and Nick.
John tears his mind away from the memory, "Haven't spoken to her since you two came here. What's wrong?"
The vague answer only adds to the uneasy feeling in Hancock guts. "Care to be a bit more precise?"
Nick just sighs. “A lot.”
"She… well, let's say she's been through a lot and it shows - mentally."
Now that just piques John's curiosity. "What do you mean?"
"You know I don't talk about running investigations, Hancock."
So Blue is an actual client of his. Why the hell would somebody from a vault leave one of the safetes places in the Commonwealth behind to ask a synth detective for help? John hits the synth on his shoulder lightly. "Come on now, Nick. Don't leave me hanging here like that."
Nick puts out his cigarette in an ashtray before looking up to answer. "She's in the Rexford. Talk to her if you want to know more about her story, it's not my place to tell."
Hancock just rolls with his eyes. Of course he could just do that but if he’s honest to himself, her private matters are none of his business. Sure, he could defend himself by playing the 'I'm the mayor of the town and saved your life' card but that's not his style. And technically did Amari save her life - He just stabbed Finn out of the way.
John cringes internally at that. Damn, shes a fucking vaultie after all, her people are not used to the harsh reality outside their giant metal doors. Hell, she even most likely never saw a ghoul before. What must she be thinking of him-
"Good evening, mayor Hancock."
The soft voice behind the men makes them turn their heads towards the source of it. It’s the black haired girl from the table on the other side of the bar.
"Good evening yourself-" John knows her, he is certain of it but what's her name again? Mindy? Suzi? "Pretty." Or just go with harmless, flattering pet names. A method that proved to be very sufficient over the years. The woman gives him a bright smile in response. "What can I do for you?" John asks even though he already knows what she's up to.
She bites her lower lip playfully, all of the sudden acting shy. "Well, I wondered if you'd like to have some company later, you know?”
Yeah, just like John thought. Nick looks at him with a knowing smile on his face but doesn't say anything. The ghoul considers her invention for a moment. The main dilemma for the last few years, ever since he became mayor of Goodneighbor - Sex or drugs.
Both at the same time can be fun, too. But the possibility of passing out during a one night stand, being that vulnerable around a person who is just interested in his caps or chems, or just has a weird ghoul fetish, that's stuff nightmares are made of. At least his. So no, both are not an option.
"You can have him." Nick says nonchalantly as he stands up from his chair. "I've finished my drink anyway and I have a client to take care of."
Jealousy hits John like a bolt of lightning. A feeling he didn't have in a very long time. It's so sudden and without warning, it takes him off guard. He tries not to read too much into that and turns his attention back to Trudy. Or Ruby? The woman takes Nick's seat immediately even though John hasn't answered yet. With a sigh on the remaining of his lips he just gives in. No drugs tonight then. But before Nick is out of earshot, John calls after him. There is one burning question he needs an answer for. "Nick! Blue ain't her real name, is it?"
The synth waves at him as he makes his way to the exit. "It's not."
Chapter Index:
Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9
Masterlist
Taglist: @loverofclones / @squeakythedragon / @martinys-world / @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth
#fallout#fallout 4#john hancock#hancock#nick valentine#hancock x reader#hancock x sole survivor#john hancock x sole survivor#john hancock x reader#fo4#fallout companions#fo4 cc#fanic#fanfiction#ao3#wattpad#soulmates
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Honestly after Qatar I was anything but motivated to post, so here it is for Qatar and Texas.
I literally still feel sick thinking about what the drivers had to go through just because Qatar has money. It physically hurts me. I'm honestly just glad that everyone is okay now.
That being said here are my favorite drivers 5,5 months into liking f1:
1. Alex Albon
As always, my beloved. This guy made me support Williams in the first place and now they have become my second favorite team (after Ferrari of course, because I apparently like pain). It sometimes feels like they're the only one's who really care for their drivers.
In Texas I was really stressed out like what do you mean 0,3s away from the points in the sprint race? And what do you mean 11th in the race?
2. Sergio Perez
Checo is the sweetest, I love his smile so much and it felt good to see so many Checo fans over there in Texas, not only haters. He was doing okay this week, but Lewis is getting closer and closer and I'm scared. I just need him to be good in Mexico, otherwise I'm going to quit watching F1 (I would never but please Checo please)
3. Lewis Hamilton
This was a hard decision. But I've been obsessing over Lewis again these past few weeks so he gets 3rd for now. Even though him being good literally tears my soul apart. I want him to be good, but he's a danger to Checo my beloved. I am sooo happy that Mercedes seem to get closer to Red Bull and that Lewis might have even had a chance today if the race had been just a few laps longer. But at the same time, please be worse than Checo.
Also Lewis is one of the very few men that I find breathtakingly beautiful. He is so gorgeous. And I love his tattoos. Especially his hand tattoos.
Fun Fact: My dad watched the Qatar GP with me, which was his first race ever and now he keeps refering to Lewis as the one who never makes it past turn one. Can't wait to tell him that the one who never makes it past turn one almost got Max.
4. Charles Leclerc
This was another hard decision, because I love Charles, but the past few weeks I barely paid attention to him (not because I didn't want to, but because there were so many other things to focus on, plus Uni sucks). I have thought about putting him on 5th, but who am I kidding, I love Charles too much and when he took pole I basically had the same reaction as Matt from p1. But I didn't really have time to be sad, about him losing P1 so early, because there was so much happening.
Also both Ferraris have been doing quite good, just not good enough, which is sad, but at least they didn't have any major strategy fuck-ups.
5. Lando Norris
I almost put him in 4th. This is mainly because I totally fell in love with Team Quadrant and was watching almost all of their youtube videos. Texas quali was the first time is tuned in to Max Fewtrell's watch along and I couldn't help but cheer along for Lando. And for the first half of the race I thought that there might be a chance for him to get his first win. It's kinda frustrating watching him being on the podium every weekend but never on the top step.
Honorable mentions:
Lance. He's really close to taking 5th. I might just have two 5th places next time. I might feel for him even more than I feel for Checo. And that means something. My boy passing out in the car in the middle of the race in Qatar? I literally couldn't sleep after reading about all of this. Just imagine the things that could have happened. I could cry just thinking about it. And then the dnf in the sprint race in Texas. He was doing so good and then that. But at least we got some Strollonso content and two stroints. Good race for him today.
Logan. I didn't think I'd ever say that, but Logan has kinda sneaked his way into my heart. He's nowhere near the top five but same as Checo and Lance, I just want him to have a good race for once. Qatar might have opened my eyes about him. That he was the only driver with the balls to retire for the sake of his health. And a big thanks to Williams for being so lovely. I feel like no other team would be so understanding. Sure you could say they have nothing to lose, but still. It takes some bravery to do. And I'm happy they did.
Also the Texas race was quite good, happy for Logan. Even though the rest of the weekend sucked.
Fernando. I don't know how and when it happened but I feel myself growing fonder of Fernando every day. I realized during quali when I was really upset that both Williams, both Astons and Hulk were out in Q1. So, all five of them, drivers that I wanted to see doing well. And the dnf in the race sucked so bad. Both Astons did so well and then that.
But then again, at least we got some Strollonso content. Fernando always pointing his camera at Lance is so cute.
Also him dead ass asking the team to pour water over him in Qatar might be my favorite thing ever.
Nico. Also no idea where that came from, but I realized that I have developed a huge soft spot for Nico. It started with me being interested in how he does because he's German. Then I started to genuinely like him and now I have this huge soft spot for him. It's not like he's competing for the top five though. It kinda feels like he has his own category (again, might be the German in me talking). I respect him big time, spitting facts about how shitty Haas is and frequently driving that shit box into the points. But I don't really search for content about him. Except for Hulknussen every now and then.
Speed round:
Oscar's safe (mad respect, many would have sent that into the wall) and stupid dnf. Also Loscar is kinda cute.
Alpine being sponsored by Travis Kelce. I just think it's funny how the whole Taylonso thing comes full circle now with Tay's new boyfriend basically buying Fernando's ex team.
Also Esteban just casually talking about throwing up in his helmet...
Nico Rosberg. I initially didn't like him, but he does spit facts and I appreciate that.
Yukierre. They're too cute for my little heart.
Pierre and Danny Ric. It's crazy to me how two drivers who literally used to be my favorites at some point are now totally irrelevant to me. I still like them, but in a normal way. Which is weird. I'm not used to being normal about something.
F1 acadamy slaying. And Bianca in McLaren :)
Women.
(Please can we talk about queen Susie?)
That's it for now. Give me your thoughts.
#f1#formula 1#formula one#qatar gp 2023#us gp 2023#texas gp 2023#alex albon#sergio perez#lewis hamilton#charles lecrelc#lando norris#lance stroll#logan seargent#fernando alonso#nico hulkenberg#oscar piastri#esteban ocon#pierre gasly#yuki tsunoda#nico rosberg#daniel ricciardo#f1 academy#susie wolff
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Hey. Having a bad week day right now and your blog is a huge comfort. Can I request some fluffy headcanons for PIE?
Of course! I'm a couple days late because I was swamped with work when the ask came in, but this has been living rent-free in my head for the past 24 hours. PIE has SO MUCH potential for headcanons, it would be amiss to not to touch on the softer side of things! I like to think that PIE was a turn for the better in all of their lives, and I do want to see them happy in spite of my open adoration of dramatics.
Time to let them be happy 🥺 I may have gotten carried away. Everything is under the cut! There are a LOT of words and I don’t expect everyone to read it all at once, it’s okay if it’s too much/you need to stop and come back to it later ^^;
Fluffy PIE Headcanons For The Soul (and Anon <3)
Personal Fluff
Colon actually didn’t believe in ghosts before his first mission with PIE. He just thought Ghost was interesting, and wanted to see what the job of a “paranormal investigator” entailed. He was already a bit of a hobbyist, reading some books about them for fun instead of thinking it was real. Since being introduced, he’s dived headfirst into exploring the paranormal and some types of magic. He feels like a whole new world has been opened up to him.
Colon loves the idea of being a parent some day and has done quite a bit of research to learn how to be properly responsible of children. He was considering being a teacher when he first entered college, but he preferred studying forensics to teaching it.
Because Colon is the only one of the team who has never met any of the other members of the team until adulthood, they don’t know anything about his family. Sometimes he just makes things up because he genuinely thinks they’re making things up with how crazy their families sound. They take him at face value.
Though he’s doing way better now that he’s older, Colon had some notable health issues while growing up, and is no stranger to hospitals and medical procedures. Taking care of his own health and taking note of his symptoms and what caused them has made him very good at giving advice when others are feeling sick, meaning he’s very on-top of making sure everyone is taking care of themselves (if they come to him first, he’s not here to pry). Especially Ghost.
Colon has a kind of beautiful and deep singing voice… but he only ever sings show tunes since he did a lot of theater growing up.
Ghost is usually very prickly, but gets more friendly to social and physical interactions when tired. This usually means he actually ends up more touch-friendly during all-night missions.
Growing up, Ghost’s dads taught him to sew and repair his own clothes when he was in middle school. Meaning in middle school and early high school, he had a variety of fun and interesting patches on his clothes.
Part of the reason why Ghost is so annoyed about being confused for the Ghostbusters is that he really feels like they “ruined” public perception of paranormal investigators in general. Despite his irritable nature, he’s aware that there is more to his job than deleting ghosts from existence and seeing every undead as a threat.
This is also why so much of the team’s tools and machines are home-constructed because he refuses to buy tools that the Ghostbusters sell or are associated with and they are kind of an industry giant. Also they were given some training by his dad but he likes to ignore that.
Ghost actually can read, he’s just super dyslexic and he’s basically decided he doesn’t even want to try if he’s going to be such an annoying struggle.
Spooker has a massive collection of stuffed animals that he treats with incredible love and care.
Spooker is actually allergic to cats, but loves cats and cat-themed things. He is willing to cuddle with a kitty if it means he has to suffer itchy eyes and sneezing. Won’t stop him from complaining about the consequences, though.
Technically out of the whole team, Spooker is both the least and most qualified member of the team. Part of the qualifications for the job is a degree in something that matches the field/industry, and Spooker doesn’t have that… what he DOES have is first-hand experience with the paranormal since BIRTH. He thinks that this is the funniest thing.
Spooker has everyone’s coffee/not coffee orders memorized and sometimes buys for the team on days where he feels he can take the detour.
Whatever the opposite of a green thumb is, Spooker has been cursed for it. He has killed every plant that has passed through his hands unless it was somehow already dead. He’s gotten into flower pressing to make up for it, and presses flowers that represent important dates to him.
After developing an interest in art in university, Toast actually learned how to sketch borderline photorealism, and has tons and tons of doodles in his writings. Buildings they explored on their journeys, sketches of the ghosts they encountered, and a Lot of beautiful but haunting pictures of Mary… and Ghost.
Toast keeps a planner with important dates circled and underlined, including the date everyone joined the team, everyone’s birthdays, and other important dates that may need celebration or revisiting.
In the PIE HQ, there’s a random tape of the Great British Bake-off mixed among all the other work VHS tapes by an old office TV. No one’s noticed it yet, but if they were to put it on, they’d see a college-age Johnny Toast featuring as one of the bakers in the episode. He looks so squishy.
Despite his job, Toast actually hates really scary horror movies and finds them to be a little too much. He can take supernatural-based movies since they feel so unrealistic to him, but the blood and gore in a lot of them is too much. Also, a lot of possession movies make him uncomfortable because he’s had to live through having someone he loves being possessed, and he doesn’t like how much it’s treated like the end-all be-all with few options.
Toast has a habit of feeding local stray animals, but doesn’t know all the local fauna and was feeding opossums for a long while thinking they were some kind of cat or bald rat or something, he didn’t want to ask.
Relationship Fluff
In order of who met first:
Johnny Ghost and Fred Soup
Surprisingly in first, Spooker first met Johnny Ghost when he was Gregory Casket. Spooker’s dad had several positive encounters with Timothy Casket and Johnny Ghost Senior, allowing for the two kids to have semi-frequent playdates. Ghost doesn’t remember this at all, but Spooker’s known since after the puppet arc. Spooker considers Ghost his oldest friend before of this.
Always the commanding kid, Gregory/Ghost actually came up with the nickname Spooker, it just stuck. Fred stopped going by the nickname around high school, but chose to take it up again because it just seemed to fit the paranormal investigating job.
Ghost has one-sided beef with Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza because of his time as a McDonalds manager in a city where everyone preferred pizza. Unknown to Spooker, this is most of the reason why Ghost was so annoyed during Spooker’s first mission. Ghost did Not want to be there and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.
Around when Chris first getting used to the team’s dynamic, he told Ghost that he’s far too critical to Spooker, so for about a week, Ghost tried holding himself back and being “nicer”. Spooker quickly caught on and told him that her liked that Ghost was honest and serious with him— even if it was kind of mean. He felt it meant that Ghost would always be honest with him and didn’t see him as someone who needed to be coddled.
Ghost was pretty openly mean about Spooker’s stuffed animals when he first joined the team, but got pretty used to them after awhile and will offer to repair them when one gets ripped or damaged so Spooker doesn’t get upset.
For his fifth anniversary with the team, Ghost made a big deal about not wanting to get anything for Spooker, only to present him with a hand-sewn stuffed animal with the PIE symbol on its little arms and back. Spooker cried.
Ghost tried to make him stop by saying that it was only made from scraps that Ghost had lying around from repairing the team’s stuff. Spooker cried harder.
He named the stuffed animal Tart and lets Woah sleep with it when she needs something to hold at night.
Johnny Ghost and Johnny Toast
Toast was actually seen as the problem child out of the two of them when they first met. Ghost was still kind of shell-shocked and processing his PSTD, and Toast was lashing out at anything because the sudden change in his lift was stressing him out. The two were sometimes paired together by the school’s faculty because they were hoping Ghost’s easy-to-startle nature would make Toast settle down. Instead, Ghost got more hectic as he worked through his problems, and Toast barely mellowed out as he adjusted to life in the States.
Ghost was the first person to really be there for Toast after what happened to Mary. He was the only one who really had an idea of what Toast was going through, and tried his best to give Toast the comfort that he would have wanted when he was going through his own grief. It was more effort than Toast was hoping for and really helped him in ways he didn’t know he needed.
Toast tried to go no-contact with his family around when he graduated University, and maintained it up until the founding of PIE. He saw how much working several jobs for all hours just to keep the lights at PIE on was wearing out Ghost, and reached back out to his family for the money so Ghost wouldn’t have to work so hard.
For the longest time, Toast’s Home Screen on his phone was him and Ghost making a hand heart together… in front of an explosion. Ghost had a similar one as his Lock Screen, except his was over a swallowing abyss, and his Home Screen was all black. Ghost thought it was funny, but Toast thought it was adorable that they matched.
Though he’s very prim and proper with the team, Toast is actually pretty messy when at home. He can manage his own stuff, but he struggles at keeping a tidy space. To make up for this, Ghost regularly marks days on the calendar when they’ll spend the morning cleaning before they go to work, and take note of what specifically needs focus throughout the week.
When Johnny Toast first got into cosplay, he would go to stores to get the outfits and wigs or buy them cheap online and try to grin and bear the quality. Ghost couldn’t help with the wig aspect, but he’d sew incredibly complicated outfit designs for Toast under the guise that he wanted to prove that the quality of the store-bought stuff was That Bad.
That’s part of why he doesn’t want to go anywhere with Toast while Toast is in cosplay because he’s actually kind of embarrassed of his earlier work but doesn’t want to make Toast retire his favorite outfits.
Both Toast and Ghost have had long enough hair to braid in the past (or present, for Ghost), and they’ve had moments of absent-mindedly braiding segments of each other’s hair.
Toast was Not the only person getting fangirls and stalkers, Ghost just looked at Toast, saw him as the hottest man on the planet, and went ‘yeah, that’s the only reason why they’re here.’
Johnny Toast and Fred Soup
Originally, Toast didn’t realize that Spooker was going to be a long-term member of the team, and he thought Spooker quit when he went missing halfway through the Puppet Arc. Realizing that Spooker lowkey sacrificed himself to try to save Ghost made Toast come around to him staying with the team… Spooker also didn’t realize Toast was the other member of the team until after Ghost got back, though. Only Ghost knows that they were both confused.
Spooker insists upon keeping track of the birthdays of ghosts that they see frequently, and Toast has begrudgingly began adding them to his planner. It does require trudging through graveyards or examining old records sometimes, and it can be a lot more work than anyone was asking for… but Toast is glad it makes Spooker happy.
Spooker loves Toast’s art and is trying to convince him to try coloring some of it with watercolors. Toast doesn’t want to admit that paint deeply confuses him, so he just lets Spooker do it for him.
Lacking blood when he’s spectral (a consequence of being half-ghost), Spooker actually struggles with generating his own body heat. On the other hand, Toast generates warmth faster when infected with lycanthropy. That being said, when both conditions are met, the two can consistently be found together, as close as possible.
Unexpected to Toast, Spooker actually knew several werewolves growing up and figured out Toast was a werewolf before anyone told him. This led to Spooker giving Toast some really good werewolf-coping advice up until he was properly cured, and Toast thinking it was just a really insane coincidence for like. A year after it.
Despite Spooker not really having a paycheck for literal years, Toast would find “sneaky” ways to pay him for his work. Toast thought he was slick, but Spooker just didn’t want to comment about how he was being given like 200 dollars for gas money and 500 dollars to restock the fridge at the base. He just thought it was like how Ghost was bad at reading and didn’t want to bring it up.
Spooker saw a picture of Toast with his hair long and in a ponytail soon after college and has been begging him to grow it out ever since then. He thinks Toast’s hair is literally angelic and can’t imagine why he likes it short. Toast just says he got sick of brushing ghost slime out of it.
Spooker can’t tell Toast and Gavin apart, to the point where he kind of doesn’t remember they’re different people after being explained that they are. Gavin feels horrible for tricking him because Spooker is always really nice to him, even after being told that he isn’t Toast. Toast thinks it’s funny, though.
Chris Ghostie and Johnny Ghost
Ghost was really friendly with Colon while he was driving Ghost to his location. It had been a long time since a stranger who was ignorant about the supernatural was actually interested in learning about it and wasn’t judgmental, weird, or gave Ghost a fake smile before brushing him off. They had a long, friendly conversation that mostly consisted in Ghost explaining how the paranormal worked from a professional perspective, which Colon was very receptive to. That’s the main reason why he allowed a stranger with no experience to come with him on a potentially dangerous mission. He thought Colon really had the chops for the job. And he was right.
Though Colon was initially very drawn to Ghost, there was a period of time where he doubted himself because Ghost could come off as kind of cruel to the other members of the team sometimes. It took him awhile to realize it was just a front and that Ghost had a very soft inside with a very prickly outside… that was also when he realized Ghost probably really liked him to start their friendship by exposing his soft side.
Colon originally found his nickname kind of annoying, but Ghost laughing about it actually made it grow on him over time. He’s found he’s grown more comfortable with it over time. Also, he’s found ways to make fun of Ghost back if it ever strikes a nerve with him.
Despite spending incredibly minimal time with the team compared to everyone else, Colon was able to tell the difference between Ghost and Casket incredibly easy. He’s started spraying Ghost with water when he suddenly spikes with Casket activity out of nowhere to startle Ghost back to attention.
He can also tell the difference between Johnny Ghost and Johnny Cranky almost immediately, but didn’t tell Cranky the first time the doppelgänger tried pulling one over on him. He made up a Ton of fake drama happening inside of PIE to freak Cranky out and circulate false information around DIE. At this point, he sees Cranky as the most unthreatening version of Ghost.
According to Colon, upon realizing Colon’s love of research and learning, Ghost appointed him the team teacher so that Colon could teach every newcomer to the team. According to Ghost, he gave Colon the job so he’d stop suggesting they hire or adopt every vaguely paranormal-inclined person and creature, because then they’d be his responsibility to deal with (he did not stop).
When Colon gets really excited about a book, he usually tells Ghost about it because chances are, Ghost is never going to read it so he really doesn’t care about spoilers. This is the only way that Ghost has ever actually gotten invested in books— fiction and nonfiction— because Colon is very, very thematic when he summarizes stories.
While Ghost was retired, Colon sent regular emails to Ghost’s work email as kind-of a diary. He figured that even if Ghost opened his work email, he wouldn’t read most of them, even if he sent something back. Ghost didn’t actually open his work email again until right before he was considering joining the team. Part him wanted to find it annoying, but it’s part of what eventually pushed him into joining back. He used TTS to read them all.
Fred Soup and Chris Ghostie
These two have the strongest stomachs to blood and gore on the team, and first started going over to each other’s places to watch horror movies together. They tried making it into a team thing, but had to stop making it a horror thing when they realized Ghost and Toast weren’t as into it.
When Spooker realized Ghost only recognizes him with the hat, it was Colon’s idea to dye his hair a bubblegum pink. He dyed streaks of his own hair a temporary blue in solidarity, but it was kind of hard to see without bleach.
Colon asked Spooker why he acts kind of stupid on the job, and Spooker explained that most ghosts would underestimate him if they thought he was stupid. Colon thought that as a little bit ingenious and will sometimes join in, much to Ghost’s tired annoyance. To be nice, Colon will take missions seriously when it’s just him and Ghost.
They started putting on Bluey for Woah to watch, but Colon quickly realized that some of the episodes counted as honest-to-god parenting advice and pulled Spooker into watching some of the episodes with him. He didn’t realize it would be actually kind of therapeutic for Spooker.
They have a Minecraft server together. Woah has her own special area that Colon used mod privileges around to ensure mobs wouldn’t spawn. They put their minecraft beds together.
Colon has a lot of dietary restrictions because of his. Whole relationship with specifically his colon, so Spooker went out of his way to learn new recipes and double-check some of his old recipes so Colon would always have something he could eat without a stomachache anytime Spooker cooks for the team. It took some experimenting, but they figured out a system, and Colon is really grateful.
In spite of getting all his information from Johnny ‘they are the most threatening, horrifying thing on the planet’ Ghost, he’s chosen to go out of his way to give Spooker’s demon cat plushie a chance. Though he is still a little suspicious about it getting too close to Woah.
Colon is the only member of PIE that Spooker has personally introduced to his dad without his dad knowing they were involved with PIE, meaning Colon is the only member of PIE who Chakalata likes. (He begrudgingly kept liking Colon even after finding out the truth.)
Chris Ghostie and Johnny Toast
Out of all the members of PIE, Toast was the only one Colon knew of before joining PIE. How? He’s read Toast’s book cover-to-cover. Several times. He has multiple sections and most of the cases detailed in that book memorized.
Colon is gradually and slowly trying to teach Toast to drive in return for more background information about Toast’s book.
A big reason why Toast doesn’t experience curses or magical afflictions as often as he used to isn’t really because they stopped coming, but because Colon started making him different charms and curse-repellants when he realized how often Toast suffers because of the supernatural. He is a little disturbed with how quickly Toast goes through them, but Toast is just relieved to have any break. At all.
Colon was incredibly excited of Toast’s cosplaying when he found out about it, and has offered to tag along with him to contests, or to dress up with him if he needs a double. They’re the closest to being the same size out of everyone on the team, so Colon can actually wear some of Toast’s older costumes if the need arises.
Colon is sometimes disappointed that he missed out on Toast being a werewolf (in cases where Toast gets cured and manages not to get it again) because the stories from Ghost and Spooker makes it sound way cuter than it actually was.
Toast and Colon are both incredibly organization-oriented, and both have different methods of keeping track of things. Sometimes they compare notes to make sure that they have everything since they tend to value different information.
I dunno if I said this anywhere else, but I’m dubbing these two as the biggest nerds on the team. They will talk fandom and understand what the other person is talking about. They compare tv shows and movies and talk about the state of the animation industry and how best to support actors. It’s fun and exciting.
He’s also really good at telling Gavin and Toast apart, but tends to doubt himself since Gavin will commit to the bit as hard as possible and he doesn’t want to make Ghost panic. Sometimes, Toast is Just that chaotic and that’s okay.
Team-Focused Fluff
Every primary member of the team can pick up and carry Ghost with relative ease. On days when Ghost is dazed or out of it for some reason, he has been picked up and carried by the nearest teammate in the chase.
Toast getting strong-armed into keeping track of the birthdays of ghosts has actually had the humanizing but unintended side affect of actually re-learning and teaching ghosts their own birthdays. They all react differently, some better some worse. Maxwell actually eased up on them. Aimee cried.
Colon has needed a surgery or two since joining the team, and absolutely everyone joined in to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. They did give him space and time to recover on his own, but they also went out of his way to make sure they had snacks he could eat and that he was always comfortable and had something to do. One time he was bored to a point that the usual methods wouldn’t fixed, so they set up a whole mystery in his room for him to solve without straining himself.
EVERYONE on the team has a story around biting someone that they were too young to remember but their parents thought were notable/hilarious. Spooker bit another kid while playing a game where everyone was an animal (~1yrs old - he was probably just teething, but his dad thought it was really funny), Ghost bit someone while he was being taken in after being found wandering in the woods (~7-8yrs old something his dads always noted as being a sign that he was a fighter— trying to spin it into a positive), Toast bit one of the servants who was taking care of him when they tried to pry as to why the usually chipper toddler was suddenly being so closed off (~4-5yrs old - his mother’s first red flag that something was happening to her children, but it would be another few years before anything was done about it), and Colon bit a doctor while dazed and waking up after a dental surgery (~7yrs - old his mother thinks it’s hilarious). They find it funny that THAT’S a distinct and notable thing they all have in common.
It’s really hard to get a babysitter for Woah. Options in the past have ranged from random teens in the paper (Woah just does whatever she wants since they can’t touch her), Maddie-Friend per Gertrude’s recommendation (overall really responsible, but usually busy with college or stalking), Spencer Acachalla to keep him from coming on missions after he forced himself onto the team (puts Woah on the coms while playing online games to make them think a six-year-old girl is destroying them… also managed to burn water), Poppy Soup per Spooker’s request (she invited friends over without realizing one of them was the ghost the team was after and got herself banned from babysitting… but was otherwise okay.), and Maxwell Acachalla (Colon was hoping it would be therapeutic. It actually kind of worked. He has no idea how to cook food.).
They have talked about starting a band, mostly as a joke. They kind of stopped talking about it when they realized they would technically be a boy band.
Everyone in the team is actually pretty okay at cooking. Spooker is the most skilled at cooking a lot of food at a time for a group of people, of course, but that’s not the only needed skill. Toast has an incredible attention to detail when picking out ingredients but struggles at measuring time, Ghost is adept at using replacements when lacking specific ingredients but doesn’t keep track of the level of nutrients he’s taking in at a time, and Colon is incredible at making a little go a long way but gets easily overwhelmed in a large kitchen. Also, Spooker most struggles at cooking for just himself, often making wayyy too many leftovers.
Casket will sometimes bore and start poking around with stuff if he can’t find anyone after finding himself in control with Ghost’s body. That’s how the team walked in on him trying and failing to sing Karaoke with Ghost’s hoodie around his neck like a cape after they left Ghost at home for a mission because he had a migraine. This was the most humanizing moment Spooker and Colon have ever had with Jimmy Casket. It was also incredibly embarrassing for Jimmy. He tried killing Toast for managing to get pictures and everything devolved into chaos, but Toast ultimately won.
Everyone tends to wear different styles outside of work than they do in work. Toast actually prefers to dress down and wear more casual, rugged, and loose-fitting clothes. Spooker likes colorful, flowing stuff with sparkles and loose bits. He has also done some bedazzling of some of PIE’s tools. Colon likes wearing a bit of an academia look or business casual and enjoys jewelry. The only exception is Ghost, nothing on the planet will get him to part from styling his entire outfit around an oversized hoodie and thick-soled combat boots. They only ever look coordinated when they’re on the clock.
They celebrate Halloween like no one’s business. They also Hate Halloween because of the spike of absurd cases— both fake and real. It’s kind of hard to tell someone they’re overreacting when there IS a chance that SOME GHOST is crazy enough to do JUST ABOUT ANYTHING just because it’s Halloween.
Thanks for asking, and I hope your week has improved as much as possible since you sent that ask <3
#taleblr#johnny ghost#johnny toast#fred spooker soup#chris colon ghostie#taleblr pie#taleblr headcanons#pie headcanons#taleblr pie headcanons#Chris ghostie#colon ghostie#fred spooker#spooker soup
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