#Proof of Life by Kate

[houseofbrat]

So at what age will Charlotte be allowed to dress herself in public and not as a mini-me version of her mother?

Obviously age 10 isn't old enough to not wear matchy-matchy clothes with Mummy.

George & Louis get to wear national colors: red ties, white shirts, and navy suits.

Charlotte gets to color-coordinate with Mummy to help Mummy's public reputation via cover photos.

When does Charlotte get free reign over her closet? 11? 12? 13?

[gilmorenights]

This is the most New Memories/varigo coded confession I’ve ever seen hello???

Kate and Anthony’s love story in general is just so them coded because wdym they spend an entire season simultaneously hating each other and wanting to kiss? The tension between them being so much that they can just barely keep themselves together? The fact that they clearly want each other so bad but force themselves not to act on it due to some sense of duty? Literally Varian and Hugo 🙏

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Dog Tags

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> Bucky is looking for his Dog Tags, and you just so happen to have them.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff and fun, kinda enemies/rivals to lovers vibes, open ended kinda, reader is mentioned to own a knife. Not Proof Read.

Bucky had been looking for them for weeks. 

His dog tags. His identity. His attachment to a life long forgotten. 

They’d been with him on his last mission; he was sure of it. He remembered clasping them in his hand before laying them under his uniform. And he never took them off unless…did he? 

“Buck. You’ve already looked in here. Twice.”

Sam’s eyes tracked Bucky around the room as if he was the madman’s doctor. Bucky wasn’t paying attention and nearly ran into Sam’s legs that were resting on the coffee table. 

“Dude.”

“They’ve got to be here,” Bucky kept muttering to himself. “They have to be.”

“Buck, I will get you a new set.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t want another set.”

Sam stood with a sigh, placing his bookmark in his book. “For all we know, they’ve been trampled into the mud on our last mission.”

“I would have noticed them. I never saw them.”

Sam watched as Bucky looked in every cupboard in the kitchen. He sighed, again. “Have you asked Y/n?”

Bucky scowled. “She doesn’t have them.”

“And you know this because…”

“I’ve already checked.”

Sam watched Bucky. “Did you ask? You know, before you ransacked her room.”

“I didn’t ransack her room.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two recently. It’s like you’ve gone from agreed silence to sworn enemies, but maybe you should just ask her. She might know.”

“I’ll ask Wanda.”

“Y/n’s better.”

Bucky looked over his shoulder to Sam as he opened another cupboard. “But Wanda is my friend.”

Sam sighed before walking into the kitchen and shutting every door Bucky had left open. 

“Buck-“

“I’m gonna look outside.”

“Bucky!”

He wasn’t listening. But you were. 

“You know, all he’s gotta do is ask.”

Sam looked over his shoulder at you as you leaned by the main entrance. Bucky had left through the back. 

“Do you know where they are?”

You tried to hide your smile and shrugged. “I might do.”

Sam turned around. “Y/n.”

You gave in and walked inside. “Oh, come on, Sam. He kept my knife from me for, like, three months.”

That had been true. It was your favourite one. You’d lost it after being pulled away by Yelena for some ‘Kate Bishop’ emergency. Bucky had found it in the training room and kept it from you for three months. 

It wasn’t until you were both on a mission that you saw him flip it through his fingers before using it. He’d just chuckled when you called him an Ass. 

“Gotta be more careful next time, doll.”

You could have punched him in the face. 

So, when you found his dog tags on the ground, you made a decision. 

Originally, you were going to give them to him. But when you pulled your knife from your holster back on the jet, you were reminded of what he’d done. 

It was simply payback. 

“You know, he’s not gonna be happy when he finds out.”

You shrugged. “S’only fair.”

“Where are you even keeping them? He probably turned your entire room upside down.”

You nodded, “Oh, he did. But he’s never gonna find them.”

From under your clothes, you pulled out the military issued dog tags. Embossed on the metal was Bucky’s name, birthdate and blood type. On the second was his regiment. 

Sam gave you a slightly judgmental look but you could see the pride he was trying to hide. 

“You’ve gotta tell him eventually.”

“You’re not gonna tell him?”

Sam shrugged as he passed you and picked up his book. “I knew he had your knife. I didn’t help you, I’m not helping him.”

You gave a small gasp, “I knew it!”

Sam just laughed his way down the hallway. 

Meanwhile, you looked back at the dog tags with a light smile, your thumb brushing over his name. 

You’d give them back soon. But a little just desserts would do no harm to the super annoying, massive pain in the ass, super soldier. 

Bucky looked for two more weeks. His dog tags were lost forever. He had a feeling Sam know something since he’d suddenly changed his tune on issuing him some fresh dog tags. 

“Just hold out. Maybe they’ll show.”

“Who told you that?”

Sam shrugged, “I went to a psychic.”

Bucky rolled his eyes before trudging over and sitting beside his friend. He’d hold out for one more week, then he was gonna issue them himself. 

You could feel Bucky’s eyes still on you. He was practically searing a hole into the side of your face. 

He’d been like that for three days. Watching you. Staring. 

“You know something,” he said when he finally cornered you. 

You acted as if you didn’t know what he was talking about. “I know nothing.”

“Where are they?”

“Where are what?”

“Stop acting dumb,” Bucky told you. 

“Ever considered I’m not acting, Barnes.”

Bucky chuckled a little. “Every day.”

You walked into that one. 

“But I know there’s a small part of you that’s a lot smarter than you’re letting on. So, I’ll ask again. Where are they?”

“Please.”

Bucky leaned back a little. “What?”

You clasped your hands behind your back and leaned forward a little, practically bouncing on your feet. “Where are they, please?”

Bucky stared at you before groaning. “Where are they…please?”

You stood tall and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Quit lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

Bucky sighed. “Do you really enjoy this?”

“Enjoy what, Bucky?”

You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. “You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side from day one.”

Your gaze hardened on him as you stepped closer. “And you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass. Look, don’t you think if I’d taken them, I’d have kept them safe? Safer than being hidden in my room? I know what they mean to you, Bucky.” 

You stepped back before you could let your mind wander to places further than just standing inches from Bucky in an empty hallway. 

“Kinda like my knife.”

Before you disappeared down the corridor, that last sentence only added fuel to Bucky’s fire. You had them. They were safe. But if they weren’t in your room, where the hell were they? 

It took him ten days to realise. And when he finally did, he hadn’t been thinking about them.

It had been just before he closed his eyes. It hit him. The safest place from him, was you. They’d been on your person the whole time. They had to be. 

And, despite the clock beside his bed telling him it was almost 23:00, he knew where you’d be. 

You hadn’t been sleeping much for the last few months. He knew because of how tired you seemed to move. A little slower, a little more distant. 

Zipping up his grey jacket, he padded his way down towards the training room. 

You hadn’t spotted Bucky standing against the wall, grey sweatshirt, white tee and darker pajama pants. If you had, you would have made some kind of comment about wearing plaid in Spring. 

“I figured it out,” Bucky called out calmly as he watched you. 

You ducked your head as if you’d just avoided a bullet. “What the- James.” You gave a huff. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Bucky just smiled casually and pushed himself from the wall. “I figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” You asked, a little breathless. You’d been in the training room, alone, for the last two hours. 

“Where you’ve been keeping my dog tags.”

“Really? Who says I have them?”

“You and I both know you’ve had them since the beginning.”

You just watched him, studied him. A slight smirk broke out on your face. “I don’t know who took them, Buck. But I’d say it’s Just Desserts, wouldn’t you?”

“For stealing your knife?”

You nodded. “I’d say so, yeah.”

“Wanna know how I figured it out?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

Bucky shrugged. “You knew I’d find out it was you. But you also know I avoid you as much as I can. And I know you’ve done the same with me. That’s how I kept hold of your knife for so long.”

That much was true. It was just safer to avoid each other than it was to deal with the potential ramifications of being left alone together longer than ten minutes. 

You let Bucky continue as he walked closer to you. You remained fixed in place, just watching him. He looked so…domestic. Slightly bed ridden hair, freshly showered, relaxed. Cosy.

“So, the best place to keep my dog tags safe would be with you, at all times. All day. All night.”

“Really?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah.”

“And what makes you so sure I have them on me now?”

Bucky took a final step forward and looked you over. His body was in chest from you. 

“May I?”

You nodded, realising where his eyeline had fallen. Silently, his fingers reached out. Ignoring the way his touch felt against your skin, you watched as he pulled his tags from under your shirt. 

He examined them. 

“Found ‘em.”

You looked up at him with a knowing smile. “Seems we have a winner. I must say though, I can see why you get so attached. There’s something…familiar about having them with you all the time.”

Bucky nodded. But he seemed to be thinking. Then he smiled before tucking them back into your shirt. 

You were confused. “Don’t you want them back?”

He nodded. “One day. But, for now, you should keep them safe. They look good on you.”

You looked down, mostly to avoid his blue gaze.

There had been a few moments like this over the last few years. Moments where the ten minutes ran out and it was just you and Bucky, alone, barely inches from each other. All the while, comments passed between you both which made you think that, deep down, you didn’t hate him. 

And that he didn’t hate you. 

Part Two

[girl-lostconnection]

Wolf in Sheep’s clothing is more than a Warning

Shoutout to my buddy @jesterinc without whom this wouldn’t have happened. Let’s all cheer for him for listening to my feverish rants, contributing a great deal of his own insight and adding fuel to this fire

It wasn’t difficult to get the injection with a stim off your ship and in the lab. All Price had to do was pull rank and say that it’s highly classified.

Coupled with lieutenant Riley’s heavy presence and “stop asking fucking questions and do your job” glare it did the trick. 

So no, it wasn’t difficult to whisk away the miraculous thing that stitched you up in the matter of seconds and left you in a state John could only describe as “high on pain relief”.

Thank God, Laswell was more than inclined to keep it under the cover until they have any substantial evidence or sufficient proof that something was very fucking wrong in Helldiver branch. 

Took them a couple weeks to actually get the bloody lab reports and get through thick pages of terminology that made their blood run cold for more reasons than one.

Stims were highly addictive and devastating in consequences in long term usage.

They drained the resources of the body, they wore out heart’s ability to pump blood, they ate Helldivers alive, they made them dependent on the next dosage and were frequently used as regular energy supplements.

It was not right or safe to keep this information hidden so Price had Kate to call in every favour and get the report and their own letters as high up the chain of command as it was possible.

The more people would find out about it the better.

It was something that had to be loud and flashy, something that would be impossible to ignore.

And slowly, the wheels came in motion.

They were picking up speed with every higher up official that saw the reports and detailed brief sent over from base.

Summary which could have been only described as "we are killing our own soldiers".

And upon investigation that got rolled out another nerve-wracking fact came to life - there were no regulation for how exactly stims were made.

There were no protocols of distribution.

Which meant that every day Helldivers all across the board would get different varieties of the same drug.

With different side effects and different components.

Some made out of terminid remains, some engeneered with the information they brought off Chort Bay, some from picked up samples of Illuminati sector.

Commandment pushed for the whole branch of Helldiver's to be put under review until further notice.

No missions, no dives, no stims.

Taskforce 141 volunteered to be the ones to come to your ship with these news. So you wouldn’t hear it from someone else. So you wouldn’t piece together the timing of it all.

Partially because Laswell let them know that if they won't — someone else will.

And partially because no matter what was going on with your branch — they knew you.

You were a good soldier.

A decorated military officer with years of experience and dedication likes of which Price hasn't seen before.

You were good, you were smart and what mattered the most — you were a friend.

You were their first link with the Helldivers and you were kind enough to let them onto your ship and into your armoury and never have asked a single question about their arrival.

Perhaps, because you never provided a lot of answers yourself — always in the rush, always one leg already in the hellpod, always ready to dive down.

So, naturally, when Kate told them to be part of the internal investigation. Investigation specifically into your involvement, they didn’t spend too much time mulling it over.

Of course, they will take the job.

Better them than some pencil-pusher that wouldn’t know the price and value of diligent work you conducted.

Therefore, without much hassle they packed up and came back to your ship.

They will need to find out whether or not you (divers) were aware about consequences stims brought onto your ships.

Whether or not you participated in distribution and if there was anything else command needed to know about.

Anything at all.

Especially, if there were any Helldivers that were no longer able to continue their service due to the effects of stims.

Taskforce were carefully notified that if you as a current captain of notorious SES “Whisper of Steel” were no longer able to continue in your current role — a thorough report was expected.

So they came back — tight-lipped and tense, bags of equipment in hands, explanations on the tips of their tongues.

Just to find you as calm as a soldier that was used to constant action can be out of said action.

You were sitting on the steps to the hellpods when they were dropped off — old journal in your hand, it's cover so beaten up it was a miracle the damn thing wasn't falling apart.

It was like nothing changed at all, your ship buzzing under their feet, stuff quietly chatting to each other, repairs being made in engineering wing.

Nothing out of ordinary.

You were still covered from head to toe — always ready to jump back into action at moment's notice.

The only part of you not covered were your hands — wide steady palms, deft fingers with a few crooked digits, skin wrapped in scars — jagged shrapnel cuts, splashes of old burns, pearly lines of skin tearing.

You didn’t pay much attention to occasional staring — too engrossed in your work, cataloguing newest supply arrivals, counting up how much more you’d need to order — pen spinning in your fingers.

Simon's eyes linger on ugly markings on some of your fingers — telltale signs of them being torn off and then stitched back on in time, before it was too late. That’s entirely too much pain for a single person, but who is he to judge.

Your nails are short and clean, cuticles darker from gun grease that never washes off fully.

But no signs of neurotic biting or picking of skin, no self-inflicted scratches, nothing to account for your supposed instability.

Or withdrawal symptoms.

Simon slots the knowledge for later, turning away from you.

It's rare to see even a sliver of your skin. Feels almost alien to see that much now.

A little reminder that you are a human just like them.

Simon sits himself down on opposing stairs, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

It's funny, he never thought that that's the way some (most) people feel about him.

So used to seeing armour and fabric covering every inch of skin at all times — the reminder of warm human flesh underneath feels almost uncomfortable.

How much does it take for a person to become something else? How long can you be a soldier before you turn into an archetype? A story.

Something intangible and ephemeral, ghost wearing human's body, memory of memory wrapped in flesh and greyish lines of nerves.

Not a person but a concept.

Part of the agenda, part of the myths, part of the story.

Simon watches you write crouched on the steps of the stairs, so human in the moment he feels like he doesn't know you at all.

Who are you under all that gear? Who are you with it?

His attention slides off you because Kyle as carefully as he can herds you away, pacing in front of you back and forth until you finish and get off the stairs with quiet groan.

His hand gets draped around your midriff which, they still can't get used to, is very much welcomed.

Because you grumble something, reluctantly melting into the embrace and allow him to lead you away, finally giving Simon space to work.

It’s not something he likes doing to you, especially considering how relaxed you seem — you don’t look nervous, you don’t look guilty or like you are trying to hide something.

But as much as Simon likes you and would like to believe what he sees, experience tells him that sometimes people are not who they seem to be.

So, the faster they check you out, the sooner you will be away from the scrutiny and spotlight of the command.

That’s what matters the most.

And with you finally leaving your perch on the stairs right next to control panel means he gestures to Soap to come in and start shifting through files.

They finally get to slip through the cracks and dig up whatever you could have buried.

No matter how deep it is.

Price doesn’t come to meet up with Simon until the evening, too focused on your state and the way you stall under Kyle’s touch before relaxing when you realise it’s just him.

Like you need conscious effort to remind yourself that he is safe.

That they are safe.

Building up trust takes time and effort and John would like nothing more than to stay in this slow warm state with you gradually letting them in.

But he has never compromised in the matters of health and livelihood of his man. He’s not about to make you an exception out of his rule.

But Simon doesn’t find anything.

Neither does Soap.

There is nothing — no personal mementos, no diaries, no letters or email.

There is nothing, it’s like you-person has never existed.

Like there is nothing to you other than Helldiver-you. Other than soldier-you.

Which should be a relief but the gnawing feeling doesn’t let John to just let it go and report you as another Helldiver perfectly loyal to their duty.

Now it was not a matter of work ethics even, it was a matter of bone deep need to know you.

Everyone has something that makes them tick, that makes them them, that gives an inch he could hook onto to pull out the rest of your soft innards out of the hard shell.

There has to be something.

And something they found. Kyle does.

And not exactly finds.

There is a flash drive — angular little thing, old metallic case of which is covered in tiny scratches. Like it spent one too many years in someone’s pocket with all kinds of things.

Kyle pulls it out of your breast pocket, right under the heart, when you start dozing off.

Shame churning in his gut at that, because that’s low.

That’s not fair.

If you ever find out he might never come back from it.

The flash drive in front of them feels like a point of no return. Like stepping over some invisible line in the sand. Like pushing too hard into somewhere they were not invited to.

Johnny doesn’t like it. Johnny doesn’t like sneaking around in your personal things and he can see that neither does usually calm Simon.

None of them does, it’s written on everyone’s faces.

In a way small muscle in John’s jaw twitches with tension, in a way Soap rolls his shoulders as if hoping to shake off whatever sticky feeling he’s got from looking somewhere this deep — from sneaking around to find if you are hiding something.

Heavy hover of Simon’s brows doesn’t encourage Price either. None of them likes it. None of them feels like it’s the right thing to do.

All of them know it’s the necessary one.

“Doesn’t mean we will report everything that can be on it. We looked the other way before, we could do it again”, Simon hums out and it’s so sudden, but Kyle glances at him sideways and turns to captain to give him a tight nod.

It’s their job to work in the grey, is it not?

“But we have to see what’s on it, right? Just for…protection, aye?”, Soap still sounds as unsure as he can get but he actually takes the flash drive now and doesn’t watch it like something that could bite him if he’s not careful.

“Aye”, John just nods, crossing his arms over the chest and nods at Soap’s laptop. “Open it up, let’s see what’s in on it”.

There is no way you will give them all the answers willingly.

Which is weak excuse at best but the more solid one is that they can’t afford to tip you off if you do have something to hide.

Soap spends the next few hours trying to get into whatever encrypted data you have there.

Which admittedly is not what they have expected.

There is a strange type of encryption on them, Johnny shares, eyes glued to the screen as he waits for everything to upload.

Very different from what they usually see on protected data — not meant to destroy everything on the flesh drive as soon as it’s opened.

The code was specifically designed to preserve it.

Was it some kind of valuable intel you never passed on? Were these some kind of records you never got rid off?

About something or someone.

But there is nothing of sorts when Soap manages to crack it open.

On the flesh drive there’s nothing other than audiologs — hundreds of hours of audios, dozens and dozens of half-scraped recordings.

Terabytes of them.

It doesn’t make much sense on the first glance. It makes even less when they start listening.

They don’t know the appropriate order and it looks like a lot of dates has been scraped off the logs.

Frantically, feverishly, like someone without much technical expertise was rummaging through it, wiping off any trace of when and where it happened.

They click through few trying to grasp what is going on there only to find the unexpected.

It’s an entire year of audiologs that just get longer and more detailed the longer they keep going.

There is recorded music in horrible quality, there’s singing — a little off tune and a little hoarse — voice of someone not used to using it this much, but the melody is steady and excitement is palpable.

They don’t recognise the voice. Not at first.

Though whoever is singing they were having the time of their life. They were elated to share.

There’s also obviously male voice — strangely mechanical in its range, almost blank, completely level.

It reminds 141 of butchered quality of dynamics some Helldiver’s comms have. Like someone smashed it before using.

The sound is a little distorted, static flaring up when Soap tries to speed it up so they resign to just listening through the whole thing.

God knows these logs have seen better days.

But there is a lot of what they never expected to find.

There are jokes — old puns and dark humour and laughter, god, there is so much laughter.

It echoes through conversations, it cracks through years to the TaskForce listening with baited breaths.

It’s a beautiful laughter.

They don’t realise at first whose laughter it is. Whose singing it was.

They have never heard you laugh before.

You sound so young there. You sound so human.

Such a stark contrast to the person they came to know you as.

Older you is closed off, older you is guarded and twitchy — silent more often than not, feral animal aching for warmth and terrified of feeling any.

Marks of phantom old collar chuffing the skin of your neck until it breaks. Until you break.

What have been done to you? What happened?

There are million questions swirling through John’s head as he listens, brows furrowing when static flares up once again.

There is nothing wrong with recordings per se. Frankly speaking Price doesn’t see the reason to continue listening, especially since he can see how uncomfortable his team is with going through something so personal to you.

Something that obviously meant enough that you were carrying it with you whenever you went.

But there’s a nagging feeling that doesn’t leave John alone. Like they are missing something.

Helldivers are still soldiers — they are not forbidden from maintaining personal connections.

Why would someone (most likely you) try to scrape the flash drive so desperately? Why would you bother holding it as close to the body as possible?

Somewhere along these recordings there is answer to why you never come down on Chort Bay anymore. Somewhere along the audiologs they are going through there is a reason to why you do missions only in terminid sector.

There’s a question that doesn’t leave Price alone as he sits and listens through another dozen of butchered recordings.

Who’s the person on the other end?

And why do you still have this flesh drive if you could have gotten rid of it long time ago? Would save you a lot of trouble considering how hard you tried to cover up tracks.

So Johnny scrolls through the logs until he finds first one actually dated.

March. Tuesday. 11:51. Six years ago.

“What did you want to be before?”, male voice cracks to life startling them after almost three minutes of radio silence, Simon’s fingers twitching to reach for the gun.

But it’s just a recording, no one is here but them and these butchered audio logs. “Surely…surely, you did not intend to be this. No child does”

There is a small pause before you answer.

As if you want to ask how can the other person know it.

As if you don’t know if you should tell that most children actually do.

Because being a Helldiver is an honour.

It seems like one, at least.

The ultimate sacrifice in the name of greater good.

Your bones might have a chance of being the base of someone’s throne, shouldn’t this be honour enough?

“Ballerina”, your response makes Price quirk a brow, leaning back in chair. That’s the first log without any static. The first one where they can hear you clearly.

Your answer is short, curter than what you’d give your companion before. It reeks of old vulnerability and almost shameful shyness.

Not in your nature to play coy and you apparently didn’t intend to make it seem like it was.

“Ballerina?”, metal creaking is more evident now, male’s voice grinding on their ears, faint whisper of his comms acting as a white noise.

Filling the air with hum none can make out and falling into the background.

It didn’t occur to you at the time that those like your companion have lifespans even shorter than Helldivers so.

That they are machines of war way more dedicated than any diver is.

That they probably don’t dance.

You tell yourself that it’s the only reason you continue talking about something that is no longer viable even as an old fever dream.

“Yeah, the dancer. Did you know they retire young?”, the tidbit of knowledge feels like an offering, like you are a child bringing your stick figured drawing for some approval.

Your voice goes a little higher — smile in your voice so wide, Soap can’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t you all retire young?”, the tone is so level, so perfectly polite that the question would sound innocent if not for undercurrent of teasing.

It leaves you gobsmacked for a moment.

Was that…did he just joke about fast mortality rate amongst Helldivers? He of all people?

Unbelievable.

There’s a pause before your laughter escapes the confines of your mouth — wheezing thin sound that grows into hoarse warm bark of laughter.

“That’s really dark, Sar”, finally a mention of a name forces Kyle to scribble it down as fast as he can. Finally something to hook onto. A bloody name.

“And yet you are laughing”, satisfaction in man’s voice is so obvious it practically drips off every syllable.

Unusually expressive from what they heard before.

Thick and sticky, filling up ears and coating skin.

Like oil.

The recording clicks off and the room falls silent for a few moments with them simply staring at the screen.

There is uneasy feeling in John’s chest, like they are getting closer.

He’s not sure if he wants to keep going.

At this point it would be okay to close investigation on you, to clear you in eyes of the command.

But Soap scrolls down, clicking on the next dated recording without Price stopping him.

It dates almost eight months after the one they just listened to. Johnny clicks “play” and sits back ready to listen, cold slowly filling his fingertips.

What would be worse now — to find something or not find anything at all?

How much is too much as a price for your broken trust?

Your voice rings out of the speakers, too quiet for them to hear and they have to adjust the sound before continuing.

Your voice is tired hoarse thing when you breathe out “what a wicked thing it is. To dream of you. To dream of what I can never have and should have never wanted” and it makes something inside of Gaz ache for you. Why would you say that?

Was the price of being a Helldiver really this steep?

You sound so small on the record, so broken — exhaustion wrapping its heavy arms around your shoulders and pressing down hard.

“I wish it wasn’t like that.”, you finally say after a moment’s silence.

Male voice they already got used to hearing is almost soft when it responds to you — gentle purr of automatic vocal cords, not yet honed timbre of a person still learning to love.

“I know.”, John doesn’t know what he expected but it isn’t this. There is a strange finality to these words.

A quiet intimate kind of resignation he saw in soldiers that knew they are not coming back.

“I can’t do this, Sar”, your voice waivers — wet and cracking and Kyle turns away, leaning heavily on the back of the chair, shoulders slumped down.

This is more difficult than he thought it would be.

You sound defeated.

He has never heard you sound like that before. He now knows he never wants to hear you like that ever again.

“I know”, the gentle acceptance of someone who they ever saw feels wrong in the moment.

Feels like they are still fucking missing something.

A clue that has been looking them in the face all this time.

But with the way you are coming apart at the seams…Ghost doesn’t know how anything but tenderness could be possible.

Stubborn beautiful captain, has no one ever treated you with kindness you deserved?

Has no one but this…whoever that is handled you with proper care?

Did he even handle you with it?

“I…this can never end well”, you got quieter with every word and John has to take a breath because he is aching for you.

Younger you, softer you, bruised you.

Soldier so young you grasped for any straw of support. Soldier so lonely you apparently fell into hands of someone you shouldn’t have.

“Does it really matter?”, the question is so soft John feels like raging, like dismantling the whole fucking branch, like cradling you in his hands and holding tight because the sharp inhale he hears cuts deep.

There is a long pause before you finally answer, familiar clicking of the clip of your gun holster a little too loud.

“No. No, it doesn’t”

Audio ends on that — no usual goodbyes or jokes exchanged. No banter, no witty remarks.

Almost like you can’t do that. Almost like a little more and the rags of you are going to be torn apart.

Too worn-out, too thinly spread.

Oh, dear god, Captain. What have you done?

They take a break so Simon can properly search the databases for any soldier named or call signed “Sar”, any trace of the other person in these audiologs.

There’s an eerie feeling that doesn’t leave John, the same one he can see in occasional fidgeting of his men.

Something happened to these logs — parts of conversations scraped, the sound butchered, the encryption so robust Soap could hardly get through it.

Maybe once it was a happy memento, a treasure you kept close to your heart.

But it was this for younger you — the one who laughed and sang and admitted childish dreams sitting somewhere on the empty battlefield.

Now, in its ravaged state it was no longer what it was before.

It was a reminder.

An ominous one at that.

The kind people tried to brainstorm for radioactive burials so whoever comes across them in the distant future would know that haunted stones of black obelisks meant “stay away”.

John sits in the corner fiddling with a pen, clicking it again and again, gears turning in his head.

The male voice on the recordings — it sounded too rough for a Helldiver, too static-y even when your own sounded clearly.

The voice way too unnatural.

Like the person it belonged to was still learning how to use it.

Like he was mimicking speech patterns.

John comes back to listening through the dozen more broken records until Simon comes back tight-jawed and dark as death.

Finally with an answer.

There is ice slowly spreading in their veins — jaws clenched so hard it’s painful.

But pain is nothing. All of it is nothing.

Because he finally knows why you were guarding the flesh drive.

Why there is no soldier named “Sar”.

There has never been one.

“Sar” is not a name, but a nickname you gave your companion during your talks. “Sar” is short for “Comissar”.

You were communicating with autobot commander.

You were committing treason.

There’s another recording. The last one. Still completely intact.

Soap presses the key so hard it’s a miracle it doesn’t fall off.

This time there is no introduction, no greetings. There is only one voice.

The Autobot’s.

“Super Earth’s scum likes to portray us as unfeeling. Machines of pointless bloody war.”, he starts, voice as level as they get, eerie mechanical undertones of too static speech seeping through.

Sar…Comissar pauses before continuing, his voice getting so much softer it’s uncanny.

So soft John feels like grinding his teeth into nothing. Fucking hell, the autobot had no business sounding like that.

“But god, I swear, I could feel the sunlight shine on my face when you’d come down to me.”, there is a wistful component to his voice, one Simon doesn’t fucking like at all.

“I could feel the wind. I could taste the sea.”

“I could taste you.”, the implication leaves Kyle with dread raising its heavy head in his gut, eyes so wide it hurts. He can’t blink and he can’t turn away and he can’t stop listening.

They need to finish.

“We often think Helldivers to be soldiers of the guile — merciless and casually cruel, you plunge feet first into hell from a hell of your own straight above our heads — harbingers of death.”, is said almost conversationally, like it’s another fact. Another thing he probably had to get over.

“But I could have sworn you were an angel.”, there is reverence in the voice of the bloody machine the likes of which Soap hasn’t heard before. The absolute, almost biblical, devotion. Borderline an obsession.

“My angel”, the emphasis is not lost to them.

“My loveliest doom.”

“You were sent down to hunt and destroy my kind, to turn to ash my army, to bring ruin and despair.”, there is a small pause before the man continues.

His voice as tender as they could get, so eerily soft that Soap barely contained the urge to turn it off.

To stop listening.

But they need to finish it, so he just steps back from the laptop, turning his head away, the automatic voice gnarling on his nerves.

“But you brought me peace. You brought warmth.”, there is wonder in Comissar’s voice, quiet excitement of someone who long gave up and accepted the way things are.

“You brought laughter and songs and dreams.”, he says like this was everything. Like it is everything. More than he could have ever hoped for. More than he, perhaps, deserved.

“How strange it is, my love, to be machine deemed incapable of human emotions but still feel.

How strange it is that you — the perfect lovely you — made me so human I can barely recognise myself.”, he stalls for a moment before chuckling — sound cool and gentle, his cords still a little rusty.

“Maybe that’s another ploy of your branch. Maybe Helldivers finally found the way to our absolute ruin.

But oh, what a sweet way to go.

I couldn’t wish for a different one. I wouldn’t have.

Know that no matter what happens next — I have always been devoted to you.”, John’s hand hovers above the keyboard, urge to turn off the bloody recording so strong he almost does it.

“The last time we saw each other you said that it won’t end well. And I won’t lie to you — it won’t.”, the autobot shifts, metal creaking with its every movement, comms whispering in a language they cannot understand.

“I know that they will come for my fortress. I know they will win — my head will be the prime trophy of this campaign.”, the man says and it feels a lot like a goodbye. Like this is it. The end of the road.

“I know it’s not your fault.”, notion kicks the breath out of Simon because despite the revulsion and anger, there is so much gentle acceptance in Comissar’s voice it makes his skin crawl.

“We are not bad people, my love. Just very unlucky ones.

I can only hope that the next time we meet will be better.

I hope next time you won’t have to choose between duty and your humanity.

I hope when we meet next time you will forgive me for making this choice for you.”, John’s eyes flicker to Simon’s who’s already trying to get reports of what fucking happened back then. Someone should be able to share at least a crumb of information.

“Goodbye, my angel. Remember that down on Chort Bay even the rusted remains of my skeleton will love you.

And please,

Don’t ever come back.”

There’s a heavy silence when they record clicks off, finishing the playing of it.

“What the fuck happened on Chort Bay?”, Price doesn’t recognise the hoarse rasp for his voice until Simon doesn’t give him a glass of water, brown eyes dark with something John isn’t sure he understands.

“War torn. The battles are ongoing as of right now but at the time of the recording…”, Simon glances down on the report on his laptop before turning back to his captain. “…Helldiver forces took Chort Bay back — effectively eradicating everything in their way”.

Which means that no one survived.

The “Sar” perished with the resistance leaving you only that — the flash drive with all of your conversations. Perhaps hoping (if robots can hope) that you would understand.

Price thinks to the quiet fractured way you carry yourself and wonders if you ever did.

They need to know what to do now. How to proceed. Because fraternising with the enemy…it’s going to be punishable by an execution. If anyone finds out about their discovery you are going down.

You won’t be just dishonourably discharged — you will be shot dead.

Price rubs his palms over his eyes, heels of them pressing onto his eyeballs because god, how did you even get into this kind of mess? Why would you even hold onto incriminating piece of evidence?

He knows why, god, of course he knows. He listened through remaining conversations and heard your laughter and heard your shy confessions.

(John tries not to think that he had no right to them. That these recordings were not his to listen to, he has no claim over them — they aren’t for him)

They decide to come clean the next day. Maybe figure out how to proceed from then on, what to write. How to save you from yourself, if needed.

But all plans go down the drain when the next morning you are antsy and fidgety, eyes roaming over the ship in frantic search. You already noticed your flash drive gone.

Johnny tries to carefully start the conversation, explaining why they came back, what was the purpose of it.

He feels bile rise in his throat at the look on your face when you see your audiologs in his palm.

When you hear that they listened to them.

Kyle steps in, voice gentle as he tries to explain that they didn’t want to, that it’s just vetting process, that they won’t tell anyone what they found.

He also says that you must have had your reasons, but keeping such thing this close was reckless and wrong and—

But then you snatch the flash drive out of Soap’s hand, eyes wide with something he doesn’t like, clutching the thing like it’s a treasured.

Your treasure.

These conversations — hundreds of hours of conversations with a mechanical voice, tenderness of which seeps through every sound. Very syllable.

Mad, wrong and forbidden.

This should have never happened. It would have never happened if Helldivers were treated more humanely, Price thinks.

It would have never happened if you had proper protocols and socialisation and support in place.

What kind of madness is it, to fall in love with a fucking piece of steel? An enemy no less.

It is wrong, it is mad, it is everything you were never supposed to do. As a soldier, as a Helldiver.

It’s not just a mistake. It’s treason.

You would be executed without martial court, without right to appeal. You are a traitor.

“Captain?”, there’s heavy silence in the armoury, stares on you almost accusatory and you hate it you hate it you hate it.

They don’t know you, they don’t know what it’s like.

They don’t understand. They probably never will.

So you don’t say anything.

You stuff the flesh drive into the breast pocket under armoured plates of your vest, not looking them in the eye, not willing to give them any more than they already took.

“Captain, you- have you ever returned to the automaton sector?”, Simon’s question is carefully worded and it is not the best time to ask whether or not you killed autobots after having an affair with one.

It’s not fair to you and he knows it.

But the situation itself isn’t fair.

Neither are you with your heavy silences and your high walls and your stubborn glares.

“No.”, the answer is as short as they get, your thumb pressing into the sharp side of the metal case, trying to take your mind out of a spiral by any means necessary.

You never came back to Chort Bay. You never came back to autobot sector after coming down to collect the last message from Sar. One mission before you realised you couldn’t do it. You just couldn’t.

Robots were too human afterwards.

Even worse, you were too human — finger always stalling when it came to shooting other autobots.

Other’s like Sar.

Maybe in some deeper level you were still waiting for him to come back, to meet you with the flesh drive like he usually did. Maybe on some deeper level you were hoping for him to find another way.

Maybe you grew soft.

(Helldivers can’t be soft. Helldivers are never soft. Not if they want to survive)

“What does it say about me that I didn’t die with him and kept living?”, you don’t even realise you said it out loud until you look at Kyle and see that his face is grey with horror. He makes a step towards you, something pained in his eyes raising when you twitch away.

He’s spent his trust. It doesn’t take a mind reader to realise who took your flesh drive. It doesn’t take a psychic to figure out that he stole it.

But really, what does it say about you if you are still going though you admitted to Sar once that you probably wouldn’t be able to if something was to happen to him.

You kept living when maybe you shouldn’t have. You kept living like nothing ever happened, like you didn’t lose a part of you — a good part, a decent part, a humane part.

“Capt’n, please…”, there’s anguish in Price’s voice, his eyes — prettiest summer sky — looking at you the same way one would look at animal they ran over. Pity.

There is hot licks of fury in your chest, spreading like a wildfire, scorching you from inside out, cauterising the bleeding heart of yours.

How fucking dare he. How dare they scoop out everything that was left of the good you and watch it with morbid fascination like it was some suffering creature with broken spine.

How dare they even look like they feel sorry for you when there’s nothing to feel sorry about?

“This- look around”, there’s manic desperate chuckle, crack in his voice the size of one in your chest. “This isn’t livin’, capt’n. You are not livin’. You are survivin’. And all for a machine that-”

Maybe you would have listened before to him, but John Price steps on the landmine the size of Jupiter and you snap. Snarling, feral creature — kicked dog whose tail got caught in the closing doors — your eyes stinging, armour clicking in place all around you.

“He has a name.”, you snarl with such viciousness that John blinks in surprise, taken aback by your reaction. “And you don’t know him.”

“For fuck’s sake, capt’n, it’s not a name.”, Price snaps in return, stepping closer to you, eyes blazing, shoulders squaring and it’s almost laughable because what the fuck is he going to do? Wrestle you to the floor of your own ship? “You gave him a nickname. He never had a name. He’s not an actual person-“

Maybe it would have been better if he tried to fight you. At least that way you’d have a good excuse to land a few punches on him. At least that way you wouldn’t feel like someone backhanded you across the face — skin tingling with heat, beast in your chest uncurling into something dangerous.

How dare he talk like he knows what’s been going on? How fucking dare he speak of your friend, of your Sar, like he has been some fucking pet?

The silence is dark and heavy between you two, fire raging so loudly in your head you hardly hear Simon stepping in.

It hardly registers until he mentions something about stims and “withdrawal induced agitation” and your head snaps to him so fast he actually steps back.

You’ll admit it takes you a few moments to piece it all together. The investigation, the secrecy, the tension.

The last conversation that you had with Price.

Your fury builds up into the whole storm, your face so hot it hurts, you are so hot it’s sticky and sweaty, your uniform clinging to your body.

(Blood in the threads of it-blood in the threads of it-blood in the threads of it)

“You stole from me”, the first exhale is pure disbelief before the last bits of you snap like a dry twig and you practically lunge at Price, fingers wrapping around his shoulder with the force enough to break it. “I let you in and you stole from me.”, your anger is deaf and blind. Your anger is powerful.

Your pain isn’t.

You don’t expect it but it still hurts because you let them see so much, you thought they were safe, you thought they were friends.

Rookie mistake. You won’t repeat it again. Never again.

Hurt just amplifies your anger, revulsion flaring up when Soap reaches for you. Usually warm hand trying to soothe, trying to calm down.

But you can’t do this. You can’t-you cant-you can’t.

You think of Kyle waiting for you to fall asleep to take your flesh drive and bile rises to your throat.

You think of Price stealing your stim, of Simon going through your things and talking about your anger like it’s a fucking symptom.

You think of them and you want to crawl out of your skin.

The loud slap of your hand against Johnny, smacking him away clicks something in the team, the whole TaskForce coming into action.

Pulling them into the formation, pulling out soldiers and not friends.

For some reason it hurts even more.

“Captain, you have to calm down.”, there is an edge to Ghost’s voice and you just sneer in response, his changed attitude doing nothing but agitate you further.

Kyle watches you like he’s expecting you to snap. They all do, you realise.

“Get out.”, your voice is alien even to you, your body uncurling to its full frame, fury — now cold and merciless flooding your veins. “Get your things and get the fuck off my ship. Now.”

Simon opens his mouth to say something but you snap before a single word leaves his lips.

“Get out of I will personally drag you off my fucking bird, lieutenant.”, you hiss his rank out and it’s so wounded you almost cringe. Fucking hell, you are getting soft.

But still it works. He pulls back and turns away.

You don’t wait to see whether or not they have something else to say. You want nothing to do with them.

You want them out.

You want to hate them but instead you are just hurt and furious.

It’s a solemn ride back home. A quiet and heavy one, all of them feeling the effect of your fury still.

Simon looks at John and John finally understands. There is no other choice. Not now. Not anymore.

Upon return Price sits in his office for a few very long hours before he finally gets to writing the report command requested on you.

He has never compromised on his soldiers’ wellbeing and he won’t start now.

Even if he will need to drag you thrashing and kicking with a force of a damn bull.

Report gets sealed and so does your fate when he sends it out.

Report written black on white, his full name and rank, date and location.

Report doesn’t name you a traitor but Price knows you will hate them nonetheless.

Report says “recommend immediate transfer. Not suitable for active space duty. Not able to continue in their current responsibilities. Recommendation to discharge Helldiver captain of SES “Whisper of steel” effective immediately”.

[cheshireliam]

"Growing Feelings Poured Into Chocolate" Collection Event

Ring Schwartz

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Got too excited and did this in a rush. Didn't really proofread...

Kate: Ring!

…

Kate: Ring!

…

Kate: Riiiinngg!

(I can't find him anywhere…)

Today was Valentine's Day— a day to gift chocolates and other gifts to express your appreciation or love.

I had prepared chocolates to show my appreciation to everyone who's supported me.

That included the members of Crown of course, the friendly maids at Crown's castle, and even the members of Vogel.

However, Ring was the only person I couldn't find today.

(He usually says he's watching me and follows right behind me… where could he be?)

I was determined to give Ring his chocolates, and so I kept searching for him…

In the end, I never found him.

…

(Darius and Nica said he was somewhere in the palace when I asked…)

(He might come back to drawing room, so I'll wait here for now.)

When I sat down on a chair and let out a deep sigh to ease my fatigue, a wave of sleepiness slowly washed over me.

(I know I shouldn't fall asleep in a place like this, and yet…)

The more I tried to shake off the sleepiness, the heavier my eyelids grew.

Just as I decided to give in and take a short nap, I felt soft blanket being gently draped over my shoulders.

(Who is it…?)

I cracked my eyes open slightly, and saw that the person standing before me was the exact person I had been searching for the entire time.

Kate: Ring!

Ring: UWAH!? You… you're awake!?

Kate: I just woke up. There's something I want to tell you, so please hear me out!

I firmly grabbed his arm to make sure he wouldn't run off.

Ring: Sigh… so this is where my escape ends.

Kate: I knew it. I couldn't find you all day, because you were avoiding me on purpose, weren't you?

Kate: Why are you running away from me? If it's something I did, I'll apologise.

Ring: No… it's not anything you did…

Ring: … I just didn't want to be disappointed.

He muttered in a small voice that sounded no louder than a squeak.

Kate: Disappointed…?

Ring: You gave… chocolates to Nica and Darius this morning, right?

Ring: I kept thinking, what if I ran into you today and didn't get any chocolate…?

Ring: I'd probably feel disappointed and think "I was right, I'm not getting any", so I chose to run away.

Ring: … I'm weird, aren't I?

Ring: Until now, it's never bothered me whenever Darius and Nica received gifts from girls and I didn't…

Ring: But the thought of not receiving chocolates from you really made me feel gloomy.

Listening to Ring express his confusion with those unfamiliar feelings filled my heart with warmth.

Kate: To think you wanted my chocolates so much… I'm really honoured.

Kate: You feeling gloomy over the possibility of not receiving them is proof that our friendship has gotten closer!

When I was a child, I would feel lonely too if my friends played with other children instead of me.

Ring's feelings were most likely something similar to that.

Ring: Is that… what it is? No, I'm a member of Vogel and you're from Crown. There's no need for us to get along…

It seemed that Ring still believed he shouldn't be on friendly terms with someone from Crown.

Ignoring his last statement, I took out the chocolates.

Kate: Here, Ring. Happy Valentine's Day!

Ring: This is… for me? I-is it because I said I wanted chocolate…?

Kate: Not at all. I prepared this specifically for you from the start.

Kate: I was looking for you so I could give you these chocolates.

Ring: R-really? I never thought there would come a day when I'd receive Valentine's chocolate…

Ring: … I figured I'd spend my whole life just eating Nica's leftover chocolate.

Ring: Thanks. I'm… I'm super happy.

Ring: I think I'll spend every day and night staring at these chocolates.

Kate: Huh?

Ring: If I look at them whenever I wake up in the mornings and before I go to sleep at night, I'll always remember how happy I was when I received them from you…

Kate: Um, they're chocolate, so I'd prefer if you ate them…

Ring: … But they'll be gone if I do.

Ring looked serious about leaving the chocolate untouched, like a dog burying its treat for safekeeping.

(If that's the case…)

Kate: Gotcha!

I switftly snatched the chocolates from Ring's hand and ripped open the packaging.

Ring: My chocolate…!

Kate: I'll give you more next year, so don't feel bad about it. Come on, open your mouth!

Ring: Mmph!

I forcibly stuffed chocolate into Ring's mouth.

Ring: Mm… it's so… sweet, and delicious…

Kate: That's great! I sampled a few and picked the one I thought was the tastiest!

Ring: And… my chest feels tight, I can't breathe…

Kate: … I promise the chocolates aren't poisoned.

Since Ring often said his heart raced like he was under a curse whenever he saw me, I made sure to set the record straight.

Ring: … I know they're not.

Ring: I'm just so happy to you got me chocolates… it hurts.

Kate: …

(… Him admitting it so straightforwardly is a problem in itself.)

Seeing Ring's overjoyed reaction, I felt sweet inside, even though I didn't have any chocolates myself.

[amethystarachnid]

PROMISE

⤷ JAMES B. “BUCKY” BARNES

ᯓ★ Pairing: James B. “Bucky” Barnes x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, action and tiny bit of fluff, angst

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 4k

ᯓ★ TW(s): reader tells Bucky that she wants him dead, swear words, depressed Bucky (?), reader gets shot so blood, coma

ᯓ★ Timeline: after CACW but everyone lives "happily" at the compound.

ᯓ★ Request: I'd love to req enemies to lovers Bucky where reader risks her life for him 🫶🏼 ( @roxymiaa )

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ Masterlist

ᯓ★ If you are a Charles Xavier fan click on this link!

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language and this isn’t proof read

ᯓ★ I realized I suck at writing enemies to lovers so yeah, sorry if this sucks since it's like a one-sided enemy thing (?), it's more like hate to love, and also, sorry for the wait <3

The Winter Solider, the man who killed your parents, the man whose life you wish to take even if doing so made you a killer.

The man who's living in your house and chatting with your friend, Natasha.

"If you keep glaring at him like that you'll burn holes in his head." Tony says as he sits next to you on the couch.

"I hope I do." You say as you sip your coffee, you hear your twin sigh.

"Listen, Y/N, I like having him here as much as you do and I know how much you hate him, hell, I hate him the same." Tony takes a deep breath, "But he was being brainwashed when he did what he did, you know that."

You look down. You know that it wasn't Bucky who killed your parents, you know that the man responsible for that is the Winter Soldier but Bucky is the Winter Soldier. How can everyone be so calm about it? Anyone could walk in the room at any moment, say a few Russian words and the man now holding a book in his right hand will use it to smash someone's head.

"I know." Is the only thing you say before standing up and walking out of the room, past Natasha and Bucky who are talking in Russian.

"Y/N" Natasha calls you and you turn around. "Will you be one of us for tonight's movie night?"

The Avengers' movie nights, where everyone sat in the cinema room to watch movies, if you remember correctly it would be Wanda's turn to choose them tonight, you and her always had similar taste in movies so it would be an enjoyable night with your dearest friends.

You were going to say yes, but then your eyes met Bucky's and it reminded you that he'd be there too.

You can barely stay in the same room as him during training or meals, the times where you're forces to share your space with him, but when you can choose to stay away from him, that's exactly what you do.

"No, I think I'll go to sleep early." Bucky looks down at your words, he knows that he's the reason you're isolating yourself more and more everyday, but there isn't much he can do.

He already apologized to Tony and you, he's even seeing a therapist now (that was Tony's condition to make him stay at the compound), he feels himself getting better and better everyday.

Especially knowing that Tony is searching for a way to erase completely the brainwashing from his mind, so that there'll be no way to turn him back in the Winter Soldier.

He looks at you as you walk away, knowing that there's nothing he can do to make you stop hating him when even he hates himself.

────୨ৎ────

You sit against a tree outside the compound, sipping a beer while deep in thought, but you still hear the faint footsteps approaching you from behind.

You recognize them immediately, since you have spent the last months avoiding them.

"Why are you here?" You ask harshly as you finish your beer.

"Wanda is making us watch Kate & Leopold for the fourth time, I couldn't take it anymore." He chuckles, standing next to your sitting form.

"She made me watch Australia ten times at least, but can't really blame her." You say with a small smile. Usually you would've already walked away from Bucky but the five beers you have already drank altered your mind.

"For the actor that starred in them?" You nod at his words.

"She's already excited for his new movie next year, Great Showman or something like that." You shrug your shoulders, trying to take another sip of beer but the bottle is empty.

"Here." He hands you an opened beer bottle and only then you notice that he has two in his hands.

Did he bring one for you only?

"You didn't poison this, did you?" You try to ignore the pain that flashes in his eyes at your words.

"I would never do that." He says, sitting down next to you, "Listen, I already apologized to you and Tony, what else do you want me to do?!" His voice is calm and this makes you even angrier at him.

You have been holding back your feelings for him for way too longs and the fact that you're also drunk makes you finally snap.

"To fucking die!" You yell at him, the bottle in your hand slips and hits the grass, shattering in tiny sharp pieces.

You don't even realize that there are tears coming out of your cheeks, running along your cheeks and then fall off your chin.

"Then kill me!" He takes a gun from the inside pocket of his jacket and puts it on your hands, your fingers immediately adapting to the familiar weight and your index finds its place on the trigger.

Bucky brings your armed hand against his chest and presses the gun against his body, "Kill me, because I swear to God, there's no one who wants me dead as much as I do."

Your eyes widen and suddenly you see the pain in his eyes, in his voice, in him.

"Do a favor to everyone on this fucking planet and kill me, please." His voice cracks at the last word and you see unshed tears in his eyes.

You have never thought about it like this, you were too focused on your own pain that you didn't even think that, maybe, he was in pain too.

Having to live with the memory of every person who he has killed, does he see blood on his hands everytime he looks at them?

"I...I..." Your eyes move quickly from his face to the gun in your hand, against his chest, right over his heart.

The heart you thought he didn't have, but now you understand that he does have a heart, a heart so fragile that it could break any moment if handled too roughly.

James Barnes does have a heart, one covered in scars and bandages and you don't want to be the one to add the final scar, the one that would shatter his injured heart completely.

The moon rays hit his blue eyes, making them almost magical.

"I know I don't deserve to live, I already tell myself that every night." A single tear runs down his beautiful left eye.

"T-That's not what I..." You stutter as you look at the broken man in front of you, how did you not realize it sooner?

Bucky hates himself for being the Winter Soldier as much as you do, if not more.

"I can't do it." You say as you stand up and drop the gun to the ground next to him.

"Isn't this what you've always wanted?" He says as he looks up at you, his eyes, big and glossy, remind you of a lost puppy that just wants to be comforted.

"I may have been wrong all this time." You look down at him, then glance at the gun by his side, "Don't do anything stupid with that, Steve would be sad." It's the excuse you give both him and yourself before walking inside the compound.

Once inside you turn around and see him hitting the tree with his right hand, you are too far away to understand what he's saying but he looks like he's crying.

"What happened to Barnes?" Tony's voice asks you from behind, you turn around and see him coming out of the cinema room, behind him you can see end credits rolling on the big screen.

"I don't know." You simply say before walking towards your room on the second floor.

────୨ৎ────

"What?! Have you gone mad?!" You look shocked at Steve and Tony, surprised that a plan as stupid as that came out of the two of them.

"You have to look past your personal problems, Y/N." Steve scolds you with a frown and if there is one thing that Captain America is good at, is making people feel guilty.

Like that one time you accidentally ate one of his yogurts and he looked so disappointed that you bought him twenty of them as an apology.

"This would be a great way to gain intel of this criminal organization who is selling weapons." Tony says, leaning back against his chair.

"And you think that sending me undercover with Bucky to a masked party in downtown Manhattan will help us?" You scoff at his words, crossing your arms over your chest.

You glance at Bucky, he has been silent during all the length of the meeting.

"We are sending you two because you are the only people who we trust enough to do it and because you have the last chances of being recognized." Steve explains, calmly as always, "People don't know Bucky's face, they may know yours, but we have masks that can make people see your features in other ways."

"With my technology we could make people see him bald." Tony points at Bucky, he looks up and touches his hair.

"I like my hair." He simply says, glancing awkwardly at you. Things between you two have been even more awkward than before after what happened under the tree two weeks ago.

"Fine, I'll do it." You scoff and stand up, Tony claps his hands together.

"Great, you already have a stunning dress waiting for you in your room, the party is in three hours." Your brother says.

"Three hours?!" You and Bucky say at the same time, you could get physically ready quickly but you needed your time getting mentally ready to spend a whole evening with Bucky glued to your hip.

"Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Jones." Tony says, handing you and Bucky an invite each.

"How did you get these?" Bucky asks.

"They're fake, obviously, but anyone who will look at them won't understand it because I did it." He says, showing off his ego.

Two hours and half later, you're walking outside the compound in a shiny designer black dress, already wearing Tony's mask which makes you completely unrecognizable to everyone else but Bucky apparently.

“You look…beautiful.” Bucky says as he looks at you, he too is wearing a designer black suit and it looks ridiculously good on him.

“Thank you…” You give him a small smile, “You don’t look too bad either.”

He smiles and looks down at himself, "Shall we go?", he hopes the car door for you and closes it once you're sat inside.

"So our cover is this: we've been married for five years and are secretly the owners of a large weapon-making industry, which is so secret no one has ever heard of it." You repeat to Bucky as he starts the car, drivinig out of the compound's garage.

"That's what they told us, yes." He nods.

"But we need more backstory if we want to do it correctly." You sigh, why didn't Tony write a full script for you two? He usually prefers to have every single backstory detail already organized in case of emergency, "Let's say…We met when we were twenty, it was love at first sight and…Oh yes! Our families didn't approve of us so we got separated and then we ran away five years ago and we got married!"

Bucky glances at you briefly before turning his eyes back on the road, "Are you sure we need all these details? I don't think anyone will ask us this type of things."

"Bucky, this is a party in downtown Manhattan, I have been invited to those kinda party before…" You look at him in disbelief, "Can you even imagine how noesy the people that attend those parties are? They live for drama, and they want every single detail."

"So you too?" He grins, "you too are noesy since you attend those parties."

"Oh, I'm the noesiest of them all, that's why I'm tellying you that we need to be really good with our acting." You turn your eyes on the road too, suddenly realizying that you called him Bucky earlier and not by his last name like you usually do, "So we need to act like we're deeply in love."

"That won't be hard." He smiles, "I've always been a great actor."

"Why don't I have trouble believing that?" You chuckle, leaning against your seat more relaxed, looking out the car window.

────୨ৎ────

"Oh you two are so cute." An old woman says as she looks at me and Bucky: his arm is wrapped around your waist while the other hold a glass of champagne, there's a mask similar to the one you are wearing on his face.

"Thank you, ma'am." You reply politely, it only takes you one glance at her to understand that she's the one hosting the party and so is the most powerful person in the room, for the moment at least. "Your dress is gorgeous."

"Oh dear, I see you have extraordinary taste…" She glances at Bucky, "But I should've understood that just by looking at your husband."

"He is handsome isn't he?" You smile, glancing at Bucky, you don't know what Tony's mask is making her see but with the mask or not, Bucky is indeed one of the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on.

"Oh but I think my wife here is ten times more beautiful than me." Bucky gives you hip a playful squeeze, kissing your cheek.

"I see that you are still in the honeymoon phase." The woman chuckles. "How long have you been married?"

"It'll soon be our fifth anniversary." You smile at her, taking a sip of your champagne.

"Adorable, and what does your work consist of?" She asks, arching a brow. There are more than one hundred people at the party, it doesn't surprise you that she doesn't remember all of them and thanks to this she can't really remember if she really invited you or not.

"We produce weapons." Bucky explains, "We're new to the industry, so we were really happy when we received your invitation, it isn't every day that you receive an invitation by Miss Lond." You smile at his words, he understood one of the basic rules of parties: always flatter the host.

Miss Long chuckles, hiding the lower part of her face that isn't hiding behind the mask behind her fan, "Please follow me, I'll introduce you to some of my dearest friends."

During the rest of the night the microphone you're wearing gathers all the information for you and the party is going smoothly...Too smooth.

"I have a strange feeling." Bucky says as you two stand on the side of the dance floor.

"Yeah, me too, this mission is going too smoothly." Your attention is taken by the noise of a microphone being turned on and then you see Miss Lond walk on the small stage at the center of the room.

"My dear guests, I'm really glad you could make it here, I hope you are enjoying the party." The woman starts, "I hope to make it more interesting by starting a treasure hunt."

Murmurs emerge from the room and people look at her confused.

"We should go." Bucky whispers in your ear, you nod and hold his hand as he walks in front of you towards the exit.

"We have special guests here...Y/N Stark and The Winter Soldier!" After her words all the lights in the room - literally - point at you two.

"Well, no need to hide anymore." You say as you take the mask off, the same does Bucky. He reaches for the gun in his jacket and you for the bracelet that Tony gave you, which quickly turns into something similar to his Iron Man suit but that only covers your arm.

"I'll give five million dollars to whoever will bring them to me! Dead or alive, it doesn't matter!" She laugh in the microphone.

The air crackles with tension as you and Bucky stand back-to-back, encircled by a sea of armed enemies. Your pulse quickens, but you steady your breathing, fingers brushing the edge of the wrist-mounted device Tony gave you. It's not a full suit, but it’s packed with enough tech to keep you alive — and dangerous.

Bucky’s voice is low and steady behind you. "First time fighting a small army?"

"First time fighting with you," you reply, flicking the device on. A translucent energy shield springs to life on your left arm, while the right crackles with an electric charge, ready to strike.

"Stick close, then," he says, a hint of a grin in his tone. "I'll cover you."

The first wave rushes in, and the chaos begins.

You pivot just as a gunman fires, your shield absorbing the bullets with a flickering hum. With a swift movement, you deactivate it and thrust your right hand forward, sending a burst of electricity into the attacker. He convulses and drops, but there’s no time to celebrate.

Bucky is a blur beside you, his metal arm a deadly weapon as he blocks a knife strike and counters with a bone-shattering punch. His movements are fluid, precise, like he’s done this a thousand times before.

But it’s the first for you.

Two more rush at you, and instinct kicks in. You duck low, shield reactivating just in time to block a swinging blade. With a sharp twist, you bash the shield into the attacker’s face, then spin and release a concussive blast from your device, sending the other flying.

"Not bad," Bucky grunts, catching a gunman by the throat and slamming him into the ground. "But keep your guard up."

"Thanks for the tip," you shoot back, dodging a hail of bullets and firing a stun charge in return. The shooter drops, twitching.

The two of you are able to get out of the room, "Wait!" Bucky stops you. You two put tables and chairs and everything you can find in front of the door to gain some time.

The moment you and Bucky burst out onto the open street, you know something’s wrong. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle, and your instincts scream at you to move. You catch a glint of metal on the rooftop: snipers. Without thinking, you lunge toward Bucky.

“Get down!” you shout, raising the energy shield just as the first shot rings out. The bullet ricochets off the shield with a sharp clang, and Bucky turns to you, eyes wide with surprise and something else —concern.

You barely manage a breath before another shot echoes. This one doesn’t bounce off. Pain blossoms in your side, hot and searing. The world blurs as you stumble, the shield flickering out as your strength falters.

“Y/N!” Bucky’s voice is raw, panicked, as he catches you before you hit the ground. His metal arm is solid, grounding you, but it feels like you’re floating—disconnected. The pain is overwhelming, but the look on his face cuts deeper.

“I’m—” you try to speak, but the words catch in your throat, replaced by a choked gasp. You clutch at your side, blood seeping between your fingers.

“Why did you that?!" He yells as he picks you up, quickly running in the car, laying you in the backseats and quickly driving towards the compound.

"Because you deserve to live." You simply say, trying to get a glimpse of him from the backseat, are those tears running down his eyes?

"But not at the cost of your own life!" He shouts, hitting the steering wheel with his fist.

"I'll survive." You stutter, pressing your hand over the wound.

"I sure hope you do so I can kill you myself." He shakes his head.

"I expected a thank you at least, is that how you will repay me for saving your life?" You chuckle, coughing up blood right after.

"I swear when you'll get out of the infirmary of the compound I'll kiss the life out of you."

Your eyes widen at his words and you smile, "I take it as a promise." You say as your eyes slowly close.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Are the last words you hear from him.

Two weeks later

Your eyes slowly open but you have to close them again because of the brightness of the room: you are in the compound's infirmary.

"You're awake." Bucky enters the room just as your eyes get used to the light, "Tony just left to get something to eat, he hasn't left your side since I got you back here."

"What happened to you?" You ask confused as you see his bruised face.

He chuckles and sits on the chair next to your bed, "Tony." He shakes his head, "He got mad at me when you came back unconscious and I almost without a scratch."

"What an asshole." You sigh.

"So, how do you feel?" He asks gently.

"Thirsty." You joke and he immediately hands you a glass of water while he tells you that you have been in coma for two weeks.

"Guess I finally was able to get some sleep." He shakes his head at your joke.

"Jokes like this remind me that you are, in fact, related to Tony." He places the glass back on the bedside table.

"So?" You ask as you raise a brow.

"So what?"

"What about your promise?"

"Which promise?"

"To kiss the life out of me once I'm healed."

"You aren't healed yet."

"Maybe a kiss will heal me."

"I thought you hated me."

"Hate, like, love...They're all so similar." You smirk as he gets closer to you.

"Call me old fashioned, but I usually prefer taking girls out on a date first." His face is so close to yours.

"Call me new fashioned, but I think we don't need a date first since I risked my life for you."

"Promise to go on a fate with me anyway after you get Banner's approval?"

"Promise." His lips are finally on yours and even thought your breath probably stinks because of the two weeks you spent in a come, you couldn't care less because his lips are so soft that you can't focus on anything else.

Until you hear a plate shattering from outside the room.

You and Bucky immediately separate and look at the wall that faces the hallway...Which is completely made of glass.

And right behind that glass stands Tony, with a broken plate and food at his feet, his mouth open wide in shock.

"Oh shit, am I a dead man?" Bucky asks you even though you both can't hold back a laugh.

"BARNES DID YOU JUST KISS MY LITTLE SITER?!"

Likes, reblogs and especially comments are highly appreciated (I love reading your thoughts <3) I hope you liked the story!

[missaengg]

Foolish Lil Birdie

Day 30 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore found here Featuring: Ikemen Villains | Jude Jazza x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, pwp, somnophilia, cunnilingus, creampie, p in v sex, body worship, some angst if you squint, soft Jude Prompts: Cockwarming/Somnophilia | “You feel so good. I don't ever want to stop.” A/N: Wanted to try something a little different with Jude. He has these moments of tenderness when reading through his POV stories, and I couldn't help, but wonder how he might be if he knew Kate wasn't awake... hence, soft Jude :P ao3 link here.

“I want you to use your powers on me, and then… and then have your way with me.”

Jude faltered, the words coming out of your mouth so unexpected, he was rendered speechless… and Jude was rarely speechless because he was rarely flustered, except apparently when it came to you.

Of course… of course a foolish lil birdie like you would make such a dangerous, outrageously lewd request.

“Ya realize what yer askin’, princess?”

You answered with a serene little “I do” and nothing else.

Jude found himself absolutely bewildered. You knew what sort of sadistic, twisted man he was, yet you were still willing to place yourself into such a vulnerable position with him.

“And what if I decide to do somethin’ depraved to ya?”

You simply smiled at him, that sweet, naive smile that just proved how little you knew of the evil in this world. “I trust you, Jude.”

Jude sighed, exasperated, but it came out as an aggravated growl. Of course he could trust you to say something so… so infuriating. A desire to teach you a lesson bubbled to the surface, itching to address your biggest flaw.

Your trust.

You were too damn trusting.

Which was how you ended up as Crown’s Fairytale Keeper in the first place.

“Ya sure about that?” he snapped.

The trust shimmering in your kind eyes stoked his rising ire. Ever since you joined Crown, Jude could tell you’d be eaten alive by life’s cruelty, but no matter how hard he tried to teach you, no matter what callous punishments he gave, you always just looked at him with those wide, trusting eyes.

So damn bright and kind and pure.

“Jude…” you reached up and lovingly cupped his cheek, “I know you won’t hurt me.”

There it was, your blind, unwavering trust in him. One he didn’t deserve. Because you were too good for him. Too good for this dark world he inhabited.

“Tch… ya really got no sense of self-preservation, do ya?” he grumbled, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t sorely tempted to see you peacefully lying there, unprotected, dreaming a dream of him… perhaps. “Ya asked for it, princess. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

Your smile widened, and Jude clicked his tongue, annoyed, yet aroused.

He didn’t bother warning you. It wasn’t his style, and when he placed his bony hand on your head, your eyes fluttered closed and your breathing fell into a slow, steady rhythm, your chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

You still had a tiny, sweet smile on your lips. Jude wanted to kill it… or kiss it… or some strange combination of both. He lightly brushed your hair off your forehead with more tenderness than he intended and ran his fingers through your silky hair, smoothing it back.

You slept like you were dead, but the rise and fall of your chest and your beating heart beneath his palm were proof you were still breathing.

“Gonna make ya regret this…” he gruffly said, but his touch said something different.

He placed his large hand on your cheek, feeling how soft and warm you were under his palm, and he pressed his thin lips to yours in a chaste kiss.

You were beautiful.

And you were all his.

Devotedly, maddeningly all his.

He slipped off your blouse and your skirt, cradling your body in his arms as he pulled the fabric away, leaving you bare and exposed for his wavering gaze to take in. He trailed his amethyst eyes down your sleeping body, all the way to your toes, a sight he had seen before, but never in an intimate setting like this.

And as if you could tell he was admiring you, you shivered delightfully, the corners of your lips curling up as if you were pleased.

Jude reached for your plush breasts, ones he’d on a normal basis brutally squeeze until you cried out in pain, but today… today he ached to have them in his mouth, to taste them with his tongue, and to nibble your delectable firm nipples between his teeth.

Gently kneading the plump flesh of one with his palm, his thumb brushing the pert peak, he popped the other in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the bump. He sucked on your soft flesh, marking your skin with red bruises, a parting gift of the wet kisses he was leaving behind. Jude closed his eyes and quietly groaned. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched them, but it was the first time he truly enjoyed them, allowing himself to relish them without any biting or pinching or pain.

You let out a delicious, little moan, and Jude felt himself stiffen, the strain against his pants painful, but he couldn’t relieve himself. Not yet. Not when there was still so much to explore.

“Ya like that, dontcha, ya little masochist,” he teased, but his words carried a playful fondness instead of its usual bite.

Removing himself from your heavenly breasts, Jude parted your thighs. You were on display, a feast for his darkening eyes, and he was entranced by a thin thread of your arousal stretching taut until it snapped as your lips opened. The lust he’d been holding at bay flooded him, crumbling all of his defenses in one roaring, turbulent wave. You glistened, shimmering even in the dim light, a sign of your desire for him. Ready to be taken by him.

“Ah, fuck, princess…” Jude sucked in a ragged breath. “What’re ya doin’ to me?”

He ran a finger through your folds, feeling how slick you were between his pointer and his thumb, breathless at how pliant you were being, and then nestled himself between your thighs, placing a kiss on your pink clit. He breathed you in deeply, the scent of your sweet musk clouding his sharp mind.

You smelled intoxicating.

Jude felt drunk on your smell alone, but when he dragged the tip of his tongue between your inner lips, tasting you on his tongue, he shuddered. The taste of you was just as, if not more, intoxicating than your natural scent.

He wanted, no… needed… more. He was a prisoner in the prison that was you, and he hated you for the curse you cast on him. But he didn’t hate you. He loved you, and that knowledge was enough to drive him mad.

Jude kissed your slit, delving his tongue in between every crevice, lapping your irresistible essence into his mouth. You were scorching against his lips. He ravaged you, darting, flicking, sucking, whatever he could to drink more of your pooling honeyed arousal.

He was a sweltering summer day and you were his cool breeze.

He was starved and you were his feast.

He was an addict and you were his fix.

You writhed beneath him, rocking your hips into his rampaging mouth, sultry gasps slipping enticingly from your luscious lips. Jude was caught in a dizzying storm, swept away in the whirlwind of all things you. Your scent. Your taste. Your voice.

As you coiled tight and let go, Jude became exceedingly aware of the unbearable strain between his legs, the throbbing bulge in his pants begging to be freed, and oh, how he ached to be nestled in your gorgeous, puffy cunt.

Jude rested his forehead against your inner thigh, breathing heavily, his head and his heart wrestling for control. He was disgusted with himself at how he worshiped your body, at how careful he was being with you when he should be pushing you away because you deserved so much more than what he could give.

You deserved to be safe, to have the mundanity of normal life, to meet someone kind and get married and have children.

All things you could never have with him.

“Fuck,” Jude growled.

He told himself not to continue, to go back to pushing you away from Crown, from this violent life… from him. Even as he said these things to himself, he realized, he never made himself promise to stay away from you, maybe because deep down he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep that promise.

But… his Curse had you out cold, and he still had time, time to have a little bit more of you without his head getting in the way.

You wouldn’t remember anything when you woke up anyway.

His body moved on its own. Before he could restrain himself, he was tearing off his clothes, desperate to feel you envelop his needy cock, to feel you wrapped in his embrace.

Jude slid in slowly, groaning as you readily sucked him in, coming to a stop when he was completely buried. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to relish how warm you felt wrapped around his greedy cock.

He knew this would be the first and last time he’d allow himself to be gentle with you, and the thought strangely anguished him.

“Ya feel so good. I don't ever want to stop,” he murmured, grazing feathery kisses along your brow.

He gazed down at you, memorizing every detail of your face in his mind, taking in the pretty, rosy flush on your cheeks, the light sheen of sweat on your brow, the soft part of your lips, the tangled mess of your hair…

He’d be back to being his twisted, deranged self when you awakened.

“Ah, shit,” he quietly whispered to himself.

Jude rolled his hips, thrusting in and out with ease with how wet you were for him, the thought both inflaming and thrilling, and incensed, he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck, biting down into the skin, directing all of his anger and frustration with himself and with you into the only angry mark of the evening.

His mouth glued to your neck, he increased his pace, rasping grunts sharply expelling from his throat. The friction of his tip dragging along your walls drove him insane, his composure, which was already hanging on by a very thin thread, unraveling.

“Jude,” you breathlessly moaned in your sleep.

While Jude enjoyed tormenting you senseless into a trembling puddle, hearing you so ardently moan his name ruined him, and as you cried out, arching your back, Jude felt himself explode, pulsing wave after wave of his cum, spilling into you urgently, his vision fading to black.

He remained still, long enough for his breathing to return to normal, and then he burst into sardonic laughter, shaking on top of your prone form.

“Hopeless,” he muttered through his derisive snorts. “So goddamn hopeless.”

He rolled off of you, covering you with a blanket, and opened the window, lighting a cigarette. The room was dark, the sun having set not too long ago. Jude stared broodingly out into the dark outline of the castle garden, blowing smoke into the cool air.

He knew he had to let you go. He knew, but still a part of him wretchedly yearned to hold onto you and never free you from his grip. Selfish. He was being selfish. He contemptuously smirked. A true villain.

“Jude?” your dreamy voice called out.

Jude turned to face you. You were blinking away the haze of sleep, the blanket falling from your shoulders as you sat up. Jude snickered to himself. Your hair was a bird’s nest, tangled and matted from where it was touching the bed.

Tossing out his cigarette, Jude crossed back over to join you on the bed, and roughly yanked his fingers through your hair. It was always bedhead with you.

“Welcome back, princess,” Jude said mockingly, his trademark wicked smirk back on his lips, his sadistic mask settling back into place. “Feelin’ refreshed?”

“Is it over?”

Trust you to say something so silly after asking to be used like a doll.

“Tch… don’t remember a thing, do ya? You get off on that kinda stuff, dontcha, ya nasty woman.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Jude paused, and his eyes narrowed. He could’ve done anything to you while you were asleep… anything… and you were acting overjoyed, asking if he enjoyed doing what he wanted to you without your knowledge. Jude scowled, feeling the tendrils of irritation hook into his heart, but he wavered seeing the pure, stupid joy in your eyes.

Gruffly sighing, he grabbed his cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Come on, princess, I’ll help ya get cleaned up. Least I can do for lettin’ me use ya like a ragdoll.”

[boolger]

I’m SO late to the barracks bunny fic but drop a Bunny x Laswell oneshot and my life is yours (pretty please, I love your fics <3)

Asdfgh okay okay i will, but keep your life, my sinner<333 i hope you like this, i wasn’t sure of what exactly to write about. (I suppose this could be considered a part of my lesbian cod agenda lmao)

Okay, SO, it’s been a while since i wrote Bunny, from my adventures of 141’s Bunny fic, so she might differ s lil. I also, cannot for the life of me, remember if i gave Laswell a wife in the fic and while i finished the og fic in January, i honestly dont have the energy to look through it - esp bc my google doc app crashes whenever i try to search in it bc its too big lmao. So, I’ve decided to give Laswell a wife. Surprise, Kate’s wife is named Olivia now. (I chose a random name, sue me… even tho i wanted to just use my own name, but ill behave)

MDNI Tags: lesbian sex bby, consensual rough sex, overstimulation, filming sexual act (also consensual), fucking, kissing, mention of daddy and mommy but the kinks aren’t in focus, Bunny is still horny even after a 70k fic.

💖 💖 💖 💖

Laswell was beautiful; it wasn’t really a new revelation to you, she had been beautiful ever since you saw her for the first time. Kind but firm, gentle in her touch, the few times she did touch you.

Yet, in the well fitted and sharp suit, with the galla lights gracefully illuminating her, she looked even more attractive than ever. Elegant. Powerful. You wanted to drop to your knees, beg her to pet you; to kiss and lick her shoes, beg her to let you do the honor of eating her out.

“Really, Bunny?”

You weren’t sure whether you should feel ashamed for even having thought that Laswell would be interested, or embarrassed from the immediate rejection. Nonetheless you wanted to dig a deep hole and crawl down into it to hide. Preferably be covered with dirt so nobody would have to look at you again. The room, though empty, felt overwhelming and gave you nowhere to hide.

“I’m sorry, ma’a—“

“Get on your knees.”

The command almost made you jump; it was smooth, yet left no option for discussion. You felt your body react on instinct, smoothly sliding to your knees in front of her - carefully looking up at the woman, who tipped her head to the side, while watching you.

“Is this something you were told to do?” Her voice was neutral and so was her face, though there seemed to be a bit of scepticism in them.

“I - No ma’am,” you replied genuinely, brows furrowing for a moment over the fact that she would be believe so.

“Why then?”

You bit your lip for a second.

“You’re hot,” wow, such a way with words, you almost wanted to crawl away, “I’ve always found you attractive but I thought…”

“Thought what?”

You hesitated for a moment.

“Th-that you were off limits.”

“What makes you think I’m not?”

You swallowed slowly, but were unable to keep a little, smug smile from your face.

“Well, you haven’t told me to fuck off yet, ma’am.”

Laswell let out an agreeable hum.

“I have a wife.”

“Shit,” it slipped from your mouth as you instantly moved to get up, “I’m so, so—“

A hand pressed down on your shoulder, forcing you down again, a small whimper leaving you as you met Laswell’s eyes again; they were darker now, her face harder than before.

“Did I tell you to get up?”

“I - uhm..” —she raised a brow at you and you shook your head— “no, ma’am. You didn’t.”

Her fingers slid beneath the collar of her dress shirt and a moment later she pulled a thin silver chain from beneath it; a ring, simple yet beautiful with a couple of small stones on it. You winced at it, however - proof that she was indeed married. Kate played with the ring for a second, never taking her eyes off you, before tugging it back, hidden from the world again.

”Do you know who was the most enthusiastic about this whole barracks bunny project?” Kate asked, her smile turning amused as she leant over you a little, “constantly asking about all of you Bunnies - in particular you?”

With the way she asked, you figured that it probably wasn’t any of your boys, but somebody else. Then Kate took a step forward, leaning over you a little more, one of her hands moving; she pressed her thumb against your bottom lip and you felt so entranced that you didn’t even think about answering.

”Olivia,” as she told you, you had no idea who the hell Olivia was, until she added, almost casually, “my wife. Quite enamoured with you.”

The sound that left you were both surprised but pleased and Kate’s thumb forced its way in between your lips. You didn’t even hesitate to open your mouth more, so that she could press it against your tongue. Her fingers tasted of salt, but also of champagne. As she pressed down a bit harder, you felt saliva collecting around the thumb.

”Always asking what you’re up to,” she continued casually, as if she was telling you about the weather and not how her wife was apparently thinking about you, “how you’re doing - who you have been doing.”

The sound that left you should have been embarrassed, yet you found yourself letting out an almost needy whine.

”constantly begging for me to ask the boys for pictures or videos,” if you had been wet before, you felt absolutely dripping now, the thong Soap had made you wear to the gala probably fully drenched, “greedy lil’ thing - just like you, yeah?”

A small moan left you as you nodded, spit dripping from your tongue but you didn’t care about it. Kate just let out a pleased hum. Then she pulled out her thumb, nonchalantly licking your spit off.

”You know - we have a deal, Olivia and I,” she slid both her hands into her pockets and you immediately mourned her touch, letting out a small whine, leaning forward a little to lean against her leg, “- if you ever wanted to have sex with me—“

You felt on fire, so on edge from her words that you wanted to moan out loud, uncaring that the gala was going on outside the room you were hiding in.

”- then I would have to film it. Send it to her, so she could enjoy it until I got back again. Fuck her the same way I would fuck you.”

”fuck - fuck, Kate, please, please -“ you began but Kate just casually shushed you and oh, you wanted to cry.

”Do you want that, Bunny? Want me to film it when I fuck your greedy, little pussy?”

“Yes,” you barely let her take another breath, “Please - please, I want it, want Olivia to see it. Anything, Kate, please ma’am.”

One of her hands reached out to pet your head.

”Good,” she replied all coolly, “Now you have a team to be eye candy for.”

Your breathing stopped and you almost wanted to cry, upset at how she could simply turn you away like this.

”Bu-but—“

”Shush. Don’t be so dramatic, Bunny. Get up. Tell your men that you will be sleeping in my hotel room tonight.”

The way she could push your emotions back and forth almost made you feel upset - but you could do nothing but nod happily, getting up from the floor, brushing off any dust from your dress.

”Good girl. See you later.”

💖 💖 💖 💖

“What do ye mean that I cannae watch?” Soap sounded like a child having been told he couldn’t join a summer vacation, “Ye’re really gonna be so mean tae me, Laswell?”

Kate just shrugged and your toes curled in the high heels you wore.

“You have her all the time, I’m sure you can learn to share,” she mused, “Now you’ll excuse me - I have to socialise.”

You watched her walk away, feeling all flustered - it certainly didn’t help when Price stepped up close behind you, leaning forward to whisper in your ear.

”Dirty girl,” he crooned, his low voice rough “Gonna let her fuck you, eh? Cry all pretty for her and her wife?”

”uh-huh,” you managed, barely nodding, trying to ignore the heat from his body behind you, as you kept your voice low so only he could hear you, “Ye-yeah, daddy.”

”mmhm,” his voice sent shivers along your spine and for a moment you almost wanted to beg to bend you over nearest surface and fuck you silly, even with the entire gala watching.

“Good,” he gave your ass a discreet pat, “maybe we can watch the video too.”

💖 💖 💖 💖

You weren’t sure why you had ever believed that Kate Laswell would be a vanilla leaning woman. She was one of the people who had helped created the “bunny initiative” after all, but for some reason, you still believed that the older woman would fuck you all nice and sweetly.

”Look at the camera,” she told you, voice leaving no place for arguments, “Look at the camera, Bunny.”

You felt like you were drenched in sweat, almost unable to do as you were told. Yet you managed to, blinking for a moment before focusing on the telephone that was nicely propped up on a tripod; Kate sure didn’t do things halfway. You looked at the camera, knowing that Olivia would see this, that the team even might.

Kate had already made you cum several times. Right now your hands were cuffed behind your back, your face pushed into the bed as you were on your knees, lower body raised for her. Ass and pussy on display.

The first time she made you cum, she casually held the phone in her hand, camera pointed towards you as she forced you to lick her pretty shoes and grind against it afterwards. Cooing about how your underwear would be all wet, laughing when you had told her that it already was. Then the phone had been put on the tripod and she had let you eat her out, which had felt like an honor; she had almost just used you, growling out your name, hissing about how she should take you from your team. How she should keep you at home, so that she and Olivia could have you like a little pet.

When she had come, you had greedily lapped up everything, barely willing to pull your head away afterwards, earning you a slap. It had only made you moan even more, happy with bliss.

You had sat in her lap then, dutifully pulled off your dress when she told you to. She had casually just pulled up her dress pants up again, fully dressed while you sat in your flimsy thong and the lace bra.

She had tutted at you, calling you a little whore, easily pulling the thong to the side, running her fingers over your wet cunt. How your pubic hair almost glinted with how wet you were, how your pussy lips were all puffy. Two of her fingers had easily slid into your hole, Kate humming with pleasure, then talking to the camera, as if you weren’t even there - slapping your thigh with her free hand when you wiggled too much. Muttering about how loudly you moaned, how you were such a good barracks bunny for her men, how you were perfect. You had come again then, a scream almost escaping you, hadn’t it been for her other hand slapping over your mouth.

Now, with your upper body pressed down into the bed, looking into the camera lense, you were sure you were in some sort of private heaven - different from when you were with Price, Simon, Gaz or Soap, sure, but a blissful experience nonetheless.

“Say ‘thank you, Olivia’ because she lets me use you,” Kate urged, down to her underwear herself now, while she had stripped you completely of your own - not that it had hidden much, “C’mon, Bunny, thank my wife.”

Though she was also wearing a strap on that made your brain explode for a moment; you were sure it was as big as Simon’s, it was bright purple and with glitter in it. Apparently Olivia’s favourite, she had told you beforehand, when the two of you had discussed limits.

”Thank you, Olivia,” you managed, earning you another finger, Kate easily forcing into your cunt, a wanton moan leaving you, as the wet sounds sped up “fuck - hah, thank you Olivia. Thank you, Mrs. Laswell!”

It made Kate laugh, but it was a pleased laughter, you could hear that - feel it, as she continued to fuck you with three fingers, the other casually caressing your back. As you felt the dildo graze your thigh, you let out a pitiful whine, wagging your ass a little.

”Please - Please, Kate, I can’t take it, please —“

“Mmhm, not Kate, sweetheart.”

You blinked slowly, embarrassment making your toes curl for a second, cunt tightening around her fingers, as she reminded you of the title.

”Ple-please, Mistress,” you were confident that your pussy was dripping around her fingers, even as they were slowing down, sure that it could be seen on the phonescreen, “Please, mistress, I’ll behave, I’ll be good.”

Kate cooed at you, free fingers running down along your spine, “already so good for me, sweet Bunny,” she reminded you, her fingers beginning to thrust into you again, “does it feel good, princess?”

”ye-yeah, fuck - ah - feels so good, mistress,” you mewled, looking directly into the camera as if it was an actual person, “feels so good, Mrs. Laswell.”

Kate let out another amused him at the fact you were talking to Olivia, as if she was actually here, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lower back.

”Why don’t you also tell your daddy, hm?” She was taunting you, her fingers spreading a little and you moaned at the stretch, unable to tighten as you thought about your boys watching this, eyes flickering close for a moment, unable to speak. Then, a second later, her teeth sank into your skin, a pathetic whimper leaving you.

”I’m - it feels so good, Daddy,” you said, almost feeling high, “mistress is makin’ me feel so good.”

Kate let out a pleased sound, pressing a kiss to where she had just bit you. Her fingers squelching as she fucked you a little faster.

”yeah?” She was being so mean, not giving you her strap, but forcing you to continue to talk even though you were losing your mind, “does mommy feel good?”

You almost cried, sniffling as you nodded, voice raw as you said, “Mommy is feeling very - ah - very good.”

”Good girl,” she praised and finally, finally, Kate pulled her fingers out of your cunt. Even though you almost wanted to cry from the lack of pleasure, a small mewl leaving you, Kate didn’t let you wait for long. Just a short moment later the tip of the dildo pressed into you, a shameless, loud moan leaving you.

No, there was nothing vanilla about Kate. She proved that by fucking you hard and mercilessly, making you scream with pleasure only a few moments in; her hands grabbing onto your sides, nails sinking into your fat, grunting with a pleased tone, as she forced the cock deep into you and out again. It was everything you had wanted from her, perhaps even better - and knowing that her wife would watch this? That Olivia Laswell would touch herself as she watched her wife fuck you dumb? It only added onto it.

You came embarrassingly quickly - twitching and crying through the orgasm, begging Kate to stop, to keep on going, to do something even though you weren’t sure what. But Kate made the decision for you, cruelly telling you to just take it, that you had begged for this, that you were made for this.

She gave you no pause, the cock fucking you without stop, forcing you through the overestimulation, into pain and back into pleasure, without you being able to do anything about it.

You were a mess, crying out “mistress”, “please”, “yes - no”, “Kate”, “Olivia”, “daddy” - you were blabbering about everything and nothing, drooling into the pillow, random noises and words escaping you, even if it made no sense. You were high, you were in heaven, you felt nothing but euphoria.

That was until Kate made you cum again - you squirted. The moans that left you were perhaps closer to a raw scream and you didn’t even want to think about the poor guests in the rooms around you. Kate’s fingers on you, slapping your clit, continuing to fuck you as she forced the feeling to continue, soaking the sheets beneath you.

The former orgasm had nothing compared to this and you felt divine, in undescribable bliss, moaning and whining without being aware about it. Finally it became too much and you whimpered out for Kate a couple of times, who finally, slowly pulled out; praises dripping so plentiful from her lips, that it added to your feeling. You felt underwater, but not in a bad way. In a safe way.

As the cuffs were unlocked and Kate helped you turn around on your back, asking how you were, you merely raised your arms towards her, making grabbing motions at her. She chuckled but leant down and eagerly kissed you, caressing every inch of your body that she could reach.

You all but begged her to ride your face - she was hesitant, unsure if you were too tired, but when you threatened to call Olivia or Price, she laughed and agreed.

Your fingers were grabbing onto her thighs as she rode your face, your tongue fucking her cunt as good as you could, nosing and sucking on her clit, enjoying the moans that escaped her. The rougher she got, using your face to grind on, the better you felt. You eagerly drank any kind of pleasure her cunt would give you, almost unwilling to let her go.

The two of you caught your breath for a moment, the woman that had just absolutely used you in the most wonderful way, sitting next to you for a moment. She got up, making you whine and making her shush you. In a few steps she was at the phone, turning it off and removing it from the tripod.

Then she was back, kissing you again, moaning as she tasted herself on your lips. You still felt perfect, in a state you sometimes reached together with the men. Somewhere really good where things felt a bit fuzzy, yet wonderful and clear at the same time. Kate cleaned you up with a couple of wet wipes, giggling as you continued to kiss her whenever you could reach - a whine leaving you as she kissed your inner thighs, before returning to her mission of cleaning you, then herself.

You fell asleep against her chest, fucked out and cuddled close, forgetting the world around you.

💖 💖 💖 💖 💖 💖 💖 💖

Hope you liked it, my anonymous sinner🥰

[onedirection072310]

Just going on a rant because some people need to hear all of what I’m about to say…. Yes closeting still very much happens in the year 2025 (Kate & Liam before he passed, Louis & Zara). For many different reasons too. We may think the boys are free from their management/record labels. But the fact of the matter is we absolutely have no idea. Let me remind anyone who doesn’t know, the contracts are binding and most of the time these young people in the entertainment industry can’t escape their contracts ever. Someone at modest management years ago said that they would do whatever it takes to closet someone. If that meant to give them a family/kids that weren’t theirs…. That’s what was going to happen…. Because they wanted to keep “this little girl innocent boy band” image upon the boys. Also if you ignore all of the proof that Larry has and that Ziam has/had then you’re part of the problem. First of all Larry has all of their coordinating tattoos, songs that relate to one another, then failing to deny Larry (with a straight face) once in 15 years. If you’re a Larry and straight up don’t believe in Ziam because you just don’t think they had any evidence that stood out to you, that’s fine…. But my problem is when people are lazy asf and don’t bother to look into any of the Ziam proof. Ziam had all of the same proof as Larry (the 4 and 25 tattoos, all of the songs that Z and Li wrote about each other, all of their stage moments where they looked at each other… and sure as hell not like best friends would). In conclusion Ziam was real and Larry is still very much real. All of the people who are saying that closeting doesn’t exist and that “oh well they would come out if they wanted to” like no it’s not that easy. Ziam was real for 12 fucking years at the time of Li’s passing and Larry has been real for 15 fucking years. They can’t come out because of binding contracts (that’ll probably last in some ways for life). And they have/had extensive media training so Liam knew what to say and how to make it believable to the gp and so do the rest of the boys as well.

Also… why is everyone hating on Louis…. Didn’t we learn from Liam’s passing. Liam was hated on relentlessly (even before MH lied about everything) for shit that was completely, 100% pointless. And now people are doing the same with Louis…. This is why people end up de*d. Because people make it cool and a trend to hate on people who are struggling. Liam was the worlds punching punching bag for 14 fucking years and now people are doing the exact same thing to Louis. It’s fucking ridiculous. It’s not cool and will never be cool. People need to grow tf up and realize it’s part of what they said/did that played a part in ending Liam’s life.

[reccyls]

Victor's Main Route: Blind Love Chapter 25 + His POV Story

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Epilogue >

If life were a fairy tale, it would be easy to achieve happiness. Don’t do what you shouldn’t. Don’t enter the forbidden woods. Don’t open doors that should remain shut. Don’t discover secrets that should have stayed hidden. Don’t fall into a forbidden romance.

The newspapers the next day told the story of how Scotland Yard discovered Nox Liberator’s hideouts. Its members were detained and their actions were restricted.

Following Her Majesty’s recent kidnapping, Scotland Yard has received reports from citizens about meeting locations of Nox Liberator. The Yard infiltrated said meeting locations and arrested all members in attendance. The captured members of Nox Liberator are currently being held for questioning. Their testimonies revealed the name of one of the group’s central figures. However, the figure in question has been confirmed to have died in a residence near a village some hours from London. His cause of death has been ruled to be suicide. It is believed that he took his own life after the kidnapping attempt failed.

And this was the truth that would remain unknown:

The nobles who had supported Nox Liberator had been secretly planning to overthrow the government. They were condemned by Crown’s hand. Those nobles had provided meeting places and procured weapons for Nox Liberator, leaked confidential information to them, supported them financially, along with a host of other illicit dealings. Their ultimate aim was to become the rulers of the country themselves. With the monarchy overthrown, they would be the highest ranking people left. And to make this happen, they were willing to use Nox Liberator as their pawns before discarding them.

(But that won’t happen.)

Even if Nox Liberator had managed to overthrow the monarchy with the help of those nobles who wished for a republic, The future that awaited them would not the future of equality they had hoped for. They would have just ended up crushed beneath the nobles’ heels. That was what the nobles had cooperated with them for, after all.

I, Fairytale Keeper Kate, hereby confirm that I have witnessed the executions of the Lord President of the Privy Council, as well as Ben Brown, leading figure of Nox Liberator. Let my words here be proof that evil has been paid unto evil.

After typing out the last sentence, my hands stopped.

(Even though this massive incident has finally come to an end, Crown will have a new evil to condemn tomorrow.)

I slowly looked around my bedroom. Only a month had passed since I first moved in, but I felt as if I had been living here forever. I had gotten used to this room very quickly. The small suitcase sitting on my bed was still empty.

(Today’s the day, but…) (“I want to leave,” hasn’t crossed my mind.)

Until all the evils of the world had been erased, and there were no more people unfairly oppressed, Crown will continue to exist and work towards their ideal of a peaceful world being made reality. Somewhere along the way, I had fallen in love with this place, where I could record their deeds and contribute to that dream as Fairytale Keeper. And I also fell in love for real.

Victor: If you want to return to your old life, I won’t stop you. Victor: Only you can decide what you want to do.

I had thought Victor was a composed, capable adult with a mischievous side at first. But as I learned his secrets, and touched his heart, I also learned of his fate.

Kate: …I need to write.

My heart was full of Victor. I turned back to my typewriter, and continued working on the report about Victor that I had left unfinished until now.

(The man I’m in love with is a mature, capable person, but he has a cute side to him too.) (As a ruler, he cares for the country more deeply than anyone else, and has dedicated his life for everyone’s sake.) (He has been protecting me for so long, and has shown me both deep affection and deep kindness.) (He is my destiny.)

I reached for the music box that was sitting beside the typewriter.

Kate: Ah…

The music box began to play. This melody was what connected me with my love.

...

Victor: May you be blessed by more happiness than anyone else in the world.

...

Victor: Get up and run!

...

Victor: You’ll be okay. I’m here.

...

Victor: If you appeared before Will once more and thus made your way to me again… Victor: That could surely only be fate at work.

...

He had saved me over and over again. Without realizing it, he had been a part of my life so many times.

The day we first met, the bombing at the church, and now. What guided me here was neither coincidence nor misfortune. My life has–

I knew exactly what I wanted to do with the report that I finally finished. For now, I put it back in the drawer. And to fulfil my duty as Fairytale Keeper, I left my room with the report on the recent incident in hand.

-----

Liam: Oh, hi Kate. Where are you going?

As I was walking down the hallway, I met Liam and Harrison coming from the other direction.

Kate: I’m going to submit this report to Victor.

Harrison: We just saw him headed that way.

Kate: Really?

If I ran, I could probably catch up to him. And just as I was about to bid the two of them goodbye…

Liam: …You’re still going to be here tomorrow, right, Kate?

Kate: Huh?

Harrison: Hey, don’t say things like that. It’s Kate’s decision.

Liam: …Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.

Liam looked depressed, while Harrison seemed a little anxious. Knowing what they were thinking about, I felt a warmth spread through my heart.

Kate: I’m planning to talk to Victor about it right now.

The two of them brightened when they saw me smile.

Harrison: We’ll support you no matter what you decide. If Victor’s giving you a hard time, call for us.

Liam: We’ll always be on your side!

Kate: Thank you, both of you.

And then I began to run.

…

Liam and Kate watched her disappear down the hallway.

Liam: It looks like things will be okay.

Harrison: She looked pretty determined. Should we have a proper welcome party with the others?

Liam: I like that idea!

-----

Elbert: …Kate.

Kate: What’s the matter, Lord Elbert?

When I reached the garden, Elbert called out to me, sounding rather uncomfortable.

Elbert: Today is…

Alfons: Pardon me, could I get some assistance?

Alfons suddenly leaped out from behind a nearby flowerbed, interrupting whatever Elbert had been about to say.

Kate: Alfons!? What were you doing…

Roger: Hey, catch that thief!

Roger bursting onto the scene yelling at us to capture Alfons made me even more confused.

Alfons: Oh do be quiet. It’s just a little bit of medicine, what’s the harm?

Roger: Being hungover doesn’t give you the right to raid my medicine cabinet!

Alfons: You utter brute! My hands being full isn’t an excuse for you to be so rough, let me g– agh!

Elbert and I watched from the sidelines as Roger trapped Alfons in a headlock.

(Not again…)

While I stood there dumbfounded, Roger seemed to remember something and called out to me.

Roger: Oh yeah, today’s the last day of your promise with Crown, isn’t it?

Elbert and Alfons both suddenly looked in my direction.

Kate: That’s right. It’s why I’m looking for Victor.

Roger: I just passed him in the foyer.

Kate: Really? Thanks!

I began to run again.

Kate: See you later!

I waved goodbye to the three smiling figures.

…

Alfons: Sounds like she’ll still be here tomorrow.

Roger: Yeah. That’s nice, isn’t it, El? Roger: You’re happy that we’re getting another companion. It’s written all over your face.

Elbert: …I am.

-----

Ellis: Oh, Kate.

Kate: Ellis, Jude! Have you seen Victor?

Ellis: He looked like he was going to the palace. Did you need him for something?

Kate: Yes, I want to submit my report to him.

I gave them a quick bow and started walking past them.

Jude: You staying?

He had a dubious look on his face as he spoke.

Kate: I was going to talk to Victor about that too.

Jude: Figured. Anyway, do whatever the hell ya want. Jude: Not like you bein' here or not makes a big difference.

After they left, I once again began racing for the palace.

…

Ellis: I really hope Kate stays. Do you think she will?

Jude: What are you, a moron? Jude: The answer’s obvious.

-----

At long last, I finally arrived at Victor’s office. However…

(He isn’t in?)

No matter how many times I knocked, the door remained shut, and I didn’t hear any response from within.

William: Were you looking for Victor?

Kate: I have a report to give him, but it looks like he isn’t here.

William walked over from the other end of the hallway, looking amused.

William: He said he had something very important to do and left. You must have just missed him.

It reminded me of the time he had been avoiding me, and my shoulders dropped.

William: Don’t worry. He isn’t avoiding you. William: You really did just miss him, unfortunately.

Kate: Oh… okay, that’s fine.

Reassured by William’s words, I turned to start searching for Victor again.

William: Today is the promised day. Has your heart decided what it wants?

I stopped in my tracks.

Yes.

I’ve decided. (+4/+4)

Mostly…

Kate: I’ve decided.

William: I see. Then you had better tell him yourself. William: No matter what path you choose, Crown will respect your decision. William: This is the fruits of your labor, of you always rising to meet us ever since you arrived. William: Regardless of what Victor says or doesn’t say, we will always be your allies.

Kate: William…

Emotions welled in my chest, and William smiled.

William: Whatever you want to say, tell it to him.

He turned to leave, just a step ahead of me.

-----

(I didn’t manage to find him…)

Kate: What’s that?

When I returned to my bedroom, the suitcase that I had left on my bed was gone. In its place was a large box. Inside was a jet black dress, and a single notecard. I knew Victor must have left it. The message simply stated a time and location, and a single phrase: “I am waiting for you.” My heart skipped a beat.

Kate: …All right!

I gave myself an internal pep talk. Checking the clock, I confirmed that the time written on the card was quickly approaching so I changed into the dress. I also took the report I had written about Victor, and paused to run my hand across my music box. Then I retrieved the box of matches I had kept in the drawer. I was ready.

-----

When I pushed open the door to the ballroom, my beloved standing within turned to face me.

Victor: It suits you just as well as I had imagined. You look beautiful, Kate.

Kate: Thank you very much.

I approached him, step by step. When we were standing almost face to face, he finally spoke again.

Victor: Today is the promised day. What do you want to do?

I tightened my grip on my report.

Kate: My one month is up, but I still want to continue being Crown’s Fairytale Keeper. Kate: Crown works to create a world where no one, not even a single person, will ever be unjustly oppressed again. Kate: My duty as Fairytale Keeper is to record evil, like in a fairytale. Kate: And it is something I want to do, from the bottom of my heart.

His expression softened, and then changed.

Victor: That report cannot be allowed to exist.

His words were stern. The atmosphere around him seemed to transform him into another person entirely.

Victor: No trace of the man known as ‘Victor’ can ever be left in recorded history. You know this.

Kate: …I thought you would say that.

The thought crossed my mind while I was writing this. Even though I never wrote down his name, this report was proof that he had existed. So, I made up a choice.

Kate: “If you take my hand, there is no salvation. There is only a path to destruction.”

I lit a match.

Kate: When you said those words to me, I had made up my mind.

I brought the flame to the corner of my report.

Victor: What are you…?

I dropped the burning report, watching until it burned itself to ashes. And then I spoke again.

Kate: I will remember everything. And that will be enough.

Victor looked stunned. I smiled.

Kate: Even if your existence is lost to the darkness, and this love will disappear without a trace… Kate: I will remember you, forever. Kate: If the only thing that awaits me is destruction, as long as I am by your side, Kate: My life will be a happy one, Victor.

As he listened to my words, his lips curved into a gentle smile.

Victor: Are you sure you are prepared?

Kate: Of course.

I took his outstretched hand, and stepping over the ashes of the report, we walked out onto the balcony. I still remembered the very last lines of the report.

The day we first met, the bombing at the church, and now. What guided me here was neither coincidence nor misfortune. My life has been determined, ever since our first meeting. I am sure of it.

My eyes fluttered shut as he kissed me deeply. When I opened them again, he was the only thing I could see.

This must be what people call destiny.

He bowed, and once again held out his hand. Night’s silence was broken only by the sound of the wind. But the beautiful melody of that music box was playing in my ears. He was smiling as he spoke. I was sure I would remember what he said for the rest of my life.

Victor: Now that you’ve taken my hand, let us go forward, into eternity. Victor: Because there is nothing in this world, not even death, that can tear us apart.

As we began to dance, hand clasped in hand, I had a feeling that this moment would become my life’s most precious memory.

(If life were a fairy tale, it would be easy to achieve happiness.)

Don’t do what you shouldn’t.

(But this fairytale begins once you overcome those forbidden acts.)

And even if my life were to wither away into dust, Our story would last for all of eternity.

His POV Story: A Dance With Destiny

Victor: Hmm…

Staring at an assortment of dresses, accessories, and shoes, I found myself at a loss.

(This one suits her… but this one is hard to pass on as well…)

Everything in the pile in front of me was something I had bought for Kate. I’d ordered a number of things for her before as well, but she had stopped me then. But these gifts were also things that would be necessary if she chose to continue living here.

(I don’t have any doubt that you will choose to stay…)

But I still couldn’t help feeling uneasy.

(What if she does say no?)

She had tried to agree immediately when we had spoken last night. But she realized that I was giving her one last chance to escape. And she was going to think it over carefully before giving me her final decision.

(If she ends up changing her mind, I don’t know how I’ll ever recover…)

Although I was overjoyed that the person I loved had fallen for me in turn, There was still a chance, however slim, that she would refuse to stay.

(After all the hardship I’ve caused you, why am I fretting over something so small?)

Because I knew Kate well, I knew that she would choose to continue being Fairyale Keeper, and accept my feelings for her.

(And that’s exactly why I want you to be the one to make that choice.)

Because I treasured her, I wanted to keep her away from the world of darkness. But perhaps, since the very beginning, I had hoped that she would fall.

(Wherever you may fly to, I want to be where you return in order to rest.) (I have always wanted that.)

My love was just for her, something dark and heavy. I knew that if she accepted it, I’d never let her leave for the rest of eternity. So if she was going to fall, I wanted her to make the choice to let gravity pull her down.

(I’m not playing fair, always forcing her to make the first move.)

But she was the one who had unwittingly fallen in love with such a man.

(I won’t ever let her go. So I have to wait, until those words fall from her own lips.)

I was gradually filling my bedroom with Kate’s things. Once she took my hand, she’d be living here as well. So this was just preparation for our life together.

Victor: Maybe I can go with her when she submits her resignation letter to the post office and cancels her apartment lease…

(Buf if we went together, people would probably think she was quitting in order to get married.) (Well, that’s not entirely wrong. And it would be a very clear warning to anyone watching.)

If Kate knew what I was thinking, it’d probably surprise her. In her mind, I was still a mature, reliable person.

Victor: …Black it is.

I picked up a beautiful, jet black dress.

(She chose to live with the reaper in the world of darkness.) (No other color will do.)

Though there were different interpretations, some people said that the white of a wedding dress represented how you would be stained by your partner’s colors. And in contrast, a black dress meant that you would not let anyone’s colors stain you.

(It’s like she is becoming death’s bride.)

Perhaps, someday in the future, there would be a day where we would be joined for real. I had no intention of binding myself to anyone other than Kate. I could even play the part of groom and have Kate dress up as the queen, to have a public ceremony.

(...That would be an abuse of power.)

And if I did that, my existence would be recorded in history, which I could not allow. This idea would remain just a fleeting fantasy.

(I must be in a very good mood to be entertaining thoughts like this.)

I finished writing a brief message on a notecard, and packed it away with the dress. The woman I had been in love with for so very long, Was finally going to take my hand, and fall into the abyss with me.

-----

I heard the sound of clicking heels and turned. Dressed in all black, Kate was absolutely stunning.

Victor: It suits you just as well as I had imagined. You look beautiful, Kate.

Kate: Thank you very much.

There were no truer words that could have fallen from my lips. She approached, step by step, and when we were standing almost face to face, I spoke again.

Victor: Today is the promised day. What do you want to do?

Kate tightened her grip around a bunch of documents that appeared to be a report.

Kate: My one month is up, but I still want to continue being Crown’s Fairytale Keeper. Kate: Crown works to create a world where no one, not even a single person, will ever be unjustly oppressed again. Kate: My duty as Fairytale Keeper is to record evil, like in a fairytale. Kate: And it is something I want to do, from the bottom of my heart.

(You truly are strong.)

No matter how many horrors she would witness, her sense of duty was unwavering. Her strength was mesmerizing.

Victor: That report cannot be allowed to exist.

I had to tell her this.

Victor: No trace of the man known as ‘Victor’ can ever be left in recorded history. You know this.

This report was the product of a month of Kate’s hard work to learn about me. It pained me to say that she couldn’t keep it.

Kate: …I thought you would say that.

But contrary to what I expected, Kate seemed almost cheerful.

Kate: “If you take my hand, there is no salvation. There is only a path to destruction.”

She suddenly pulled out a match and lit it.

Kate: When you said those words to me, I had made up my mind.

She set the report on fire.

Victor: What are you…?

The report fell to the floor and burned to ashes. Kate smiled when she saw that I was at a loss for words.

Kate: I will remember everything. And that will be enough.

Her smile was a ray of light piercing through the darkness.

Kate: Even if your existence is lost to the darkness, and this love will disappear without a trace… Kate: I will remember you, forever.

When my life was shrouded in mist and I had no idea what my future would bring, you were the white robin that flew to me.

Kate: If the only thing that awaits me is destruction, as long as I am by your side, Kate: My life will be a happy one, Victor.

(Your strength, your kindness, your honesty, and your beauty never fails to exceed my expectations.) (You are my one and only beloved.)

Her words were almost like a proposal. I laughed and held out my hand to her.

Victor: Are you sure you are prepared?

Kate nodded with pride in her eyes.

Kate: Of course.

She put her small hand in mine and stepped over the ashes of her report.

(I wish I had read it before she burned it, but I’m sure Kate remembers every word.)

I led her to the balcony, hoping she would tell me what it said, just like hearing a bedtime story.

Our first meeting, the bombing at the church, and now. What joined our hands together was neither coincidence nor misfortune. Even beyond my scheming, this was something that had always been meant to happen. I knew, ever since that first day at the church where she saved me.

“My fate is to destroy her.”

And yet, she still took my hand, knowing it would be her doom. She had even laughed, and said that nothing mattered as long as we were together. This must surely have been “destiny” at work.

I smiled, and kissed her. Kate’s eyes shut adorably, and I moved even closer to her so that I would be the only thing she could see when she opened her eyes again. She laughed, and I laughed too. And bowing, I held out my hand to her once again. Night’s silence was broken only by the sound of the wind. But the beautiful melody of that music box was playing in both our ears.

For the rest of my life, I would wear a crown of thorns as I sat on the throne as Queen Victoria. There was no doubt of that.

(But, I’m also sure that things will be just a little different now.)

Victor: Now that you’ve taken my hand, let us go forward, into eternity. Victor: Because there is nothing in this world, not even death, that can tear us apart.

The dance we shared with our hands clasped together was a single page in a long, long story.

(We will never end, never be driven apart. Not for all of time.)

Because even after death, we would walk onwards, hand in hand… Our story would last for all of eternity.

[flkwh0re]

Babysitter (Pt. 2)

Warnings: Mommy kink (W), Age gap, Squirting, Masturbation, Breast/body worship, Strap-on usage (R receiving), can’t remember anymore.

A/n: Sorry this took a little long, I wasn’t busy just lazy buuuut milf mommy wanda is here!! enjoy! wrote this and listened to two mcr albums omgg it’s 1 am 😓

Wc: 1,5k

Tag: @alexawynters

part one here

yet to be proof read

——————————⧗ᗢ——————————

Wanda stood outside of your door room, flowers in her hand hesitant to knock. She was nervous to see announce the news to you about her finalized divorce with Jarvis.

As she brought her hand to knock, she heard the voices of two women and your laughter. She was sure she told you she’d be over today, had she forgot? Perhaps you knew but invited your friends over during the same time.

Wanda firmly knocked and waited a second, when you showed no answer, she was pissed. She knocked even harder the second time, the voices inside the apartment fell silent. Then you appeared at the door, “Oh my god Wanda! Hi, I missed you. Uhm, my friends are here so you know.” You said nervously, hoping she’d get your tone.

“Oh I’m well aware, what happened to our plans for today huh? I told you I’d be here at this time, but you go and invite people over to intrude our time!” She said sternly, alight fear rising in you. Suddenly, Wanda burst out into laughter. “Oh sweet girl, I’m playing. Though, I am a little sad you forgot.”

You felt bad, you couldn’t believe you forgot about Wanda wanting to come over. “I’m sorry Wanda, I can ask- " You were cut off by Kate, your best friend, wrapping her arm around your shoulder.

“Miss Maximoff!! What are you doing here at Y/n’s apartment?” Kate asked, you internally cursed the situation. “How do you know Wanda?” You asked, putting Kate’s arm off your shoulder. “Oh she was just my neighbor, I knew her mom pretty well too.” Wanda pipes in.

Well shit, you thought to yourself. “Here Wanda, come in and I’ll kick them out.” You said to Wanda as you pulled her through the door.

“Alright Kate, gotta kick you and Yelena out. Wanda and I have something to talk about.” You told her with a sarcastic smile, to which she cackled.

“The only discussing you’ll be doing is sex.” She said, you slapped her arm harshly causing her to wince. You could hear Wanda snicker at Kate’s comment, then Yelena stepped into the hallway.

“Yelena, please collect your girlfriend. I have something to do.” “Ha, yea do for sure.” Kate remarked, “Yelena please!” You said to the blonde girl, everyone's laughter growing.

“Yea okay, see ya!” She said, pulling her girlfriend to the door finally giving you and Wanda your much needed alone time.

“I am so sorry Wanda.” You apologized to which she shook her head. “No, it’s okay, it was funny. I still am a little upset you forgot about me.” She said with a faux pout, “Guess I’ll have to teach you bout that.” She placed soft little nips and pecks on your neck, a little moan passing your lips.

Wanda backed away and looked up at you, smiling. “That’s gonna have to wait though, I have a surprise.” You raised a brow out of curiosity, it wasn’t often the older woman had surprises.

“What’s that?” You questioned, as she gave you an orange envelope and flowers. “Open it.”

You cautiously opened the delicately sealed envelope. You sat the flowers on the table, to make it easier to get whatever it was out. You pulled out a piece of paper, your eyes scanned over the paper and your jaw dropped in shock as you read the document.

“Wanda, you got the divorce?!” You excitedly remarked as you jump onto her, arms flying around her bringer her into your embrace. “I did baby, we can be together now.” She said as tears welled in her eyes.

“I can’t wait to start this chapter of your life with you baby.” Wanda said smiling largely. “Wait, the boys.” You were worried about them from the start, but you knew Wanda would have a plan. “Don’t worry, they’re a little upset but they still get to see their dad on weekends. Once they find out though that you’ll take his place, they’ll be happy.”

You felt a little sad at her statement ‘take his place’. You knew she meant well, but you couldn’t help but think about how you ripped a family apart because of your silly childhood crush. That didn’t matter right now though, what mattered to you was that you and Wanda could be happy together. You don’t have to sneak around anymore, and you couldn’t be happier to be with the woman you’ve loved.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked, kissing your nose. “Yea, just thinking.” Wanda hummed, “Why don’t you let mommy do the thinking baby?” Heat rose up your cheeks and you nodded eagerly. “I got us a new toy, I’m excited to try it with you.” She husked in your ear.

“C’mon, let’s go to your room.” She said as she grabbed your hand, leading you down the short hall. You reached the room you and Wanda had done so many sinful acts in, not once did the times feel like they do now. You were now Wanda's for forever, it almost felt like a dream.

"C'mon sweet girl, get on the bed. Mommy wants to show you how proud she is to call you hers." She placed soft kiss on your forehead, and her hands slither down your stomach. She slips your shirt off and graces your skin with her kisses.

Lips linger on your body painfully too long, but you hold back your protest so Wanda can worship your body. "Mommy, please." You finally whined in protest. "Oh, you poor thing! Mommy will stop teasing." She chuckled.

Her hands hooked around your back, unclipping the bra that wrapped around your breast. She worshipped each equally, licking and sucking on your delicate sensitive buds. Lewd noises escaped your lips as she began to grind her crotch against yours. You moaned even louder when you realized she was wearing a strap.

You two hadn't tried one yet, so Wanda was all too excited to fuck her girl into oblivion. "You feel that baby?" You nodded. "It's all for you sweet girl. I've been so eager to us it on you, I knew today would be perfect. Why don't you get on your knees and suck mommy's cock, hm?"

As you got on your knees, Wanda removed her pants and the faux cock hung between her legs. You practically drooled at the sight. It was a satin red color, not extremely big, but big enough to fill you full.

Your soft lips wrapped around the tip of the toy; you throated her cock as well as you could then began to bob your head. Wanda yearned to feel your warm mouth.

"Take your shorts off baby, I want you to touch yourself while I fuck your throat." Wanda demanded, to which you complied. Your nimble fingers rubbed over your clit as Wanda gripped your hair with a fist, hips thrusting the fake dick down your throat.

Your arousal practically dripped onto the floor, and your gags and moans filled Wanda's ears. She couldn't be in more of a blissful state.

"Alright baby, I think you're ready for mommy, aren't you?" You weakly nodded, and she helped you to your feet. She guided you to the bed and helped you lay down.

Her hands spread your legs, and her calloused fingers ran through your folds. She gripped the base of her cock, lining it with your dripping cunt. She pushed herself into your tight hole, the tip reaching your deepest point causing cries to leave your throat.

She steadies her thrust, then begins to slowly pound into you. "Fuck baby, you're so tight around me. Mommy just loves this perfect pussy!" You whined as she fucked into you.

“Fuck mommy I’m so close! Please let me cum.” You squeaked out, Wanda chuckling. “Go on baby, cum on mommy’s cock.” She grunted, her hips snapping rapidly against your own. The base of the strap brushed against her own clit with enough force to bring her to an orgasm, both of your orgasms happening at once.

Her high pitched moans filled your ears, pushing you even harder into your orgasm as she fucked your sensitive cunt. You legs began to shake as she didn’t let up, then liquid gushed out of you onto Wanda’s lower stomach.

Moans ripped from your throat, the sensation of squirting almost too much to bare.

Wanda slipped the cock out of your weak cunt, and undid the straps. She flopped down next to you, “Holy fuck Y/n, that was fucking phenomenal.” She giggled, a smile rising on her face making you smile too. “Yea it was, but I’m really exhausted now. You owe me some cuddles.” You say while making grabby hands at her.

“Ah, ah, let’s get ourselves cleaned up first. After that I’ll cuddle with you all you want baby, remember, you’re mine for forever now.” She said as she placed a soft peck on your lips.

You smiled, “Good. Now let’s go, I’m cold.” You grabbed her arm, pulling her up. You ran off to the bathroom and Wanda followed behind.

“Hey, what about a bath? You’ll get warmed up, cleaned up, and I can cuddle you.” Wanda suggested. “Do I still get my real cuddles later?” She giggled, “Of course.”

She ran the water, and as it filled up she dipped her foot into the tub. Settling into the warm water she piped up when she heard your voice, “You know, I never got to make you cum.. mommy.” She scoffed, “Get your cute butt in here.”

Masterlist

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Dog Tags (2)

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> You're still keeping his Dog Tags safe.

Disclaimer: This is Part 2. Part 1 can be found here. Mentions of injuries and blood, Bucky helps carry you to safety (kinda), little angst/hurt/comfort moments, some fluff moments plus friendship moments with Wanda and Kate. Not Proof Read.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kate asked you for the millionth time. “It’s just that those arrows…I know I make them but sometimes I can put a little too much after kick- Clint tells me I need to find a substitute but the black market-”

“Kate,” you smiled and held your hand on her arm. “I promise you, I’m okay.”

“But that blast was big. Like, big big.”

You nodded. “I know. But I’m okay, I promise.”

“Kate!”

She turned and looked down the jet. 

“Go, I’ll be fine.”

She looked back at you, “You swear?”

You nodded, “I swear.”

Once Kate finally left, you let the wall drop for a moment. You didn’t blame her. The kick had been big, but it had also saved your life. Maybe you got a few bruises to remember it by, but you knew you’d be okay. 

It would just hurt in the meantime. 

“Here.” A voice spoke somewhere above you.

You looked around you until you found where the voice was coming from. Bucky. 

What the hell did he want?

You looked down at the hand where he was holding an ice pack. “Take it. For your ribs.”

You swatted his hand away, “I’m fine.” 

Bucky just stood and rolled his eyes. Even watching you lift your arm to swat him away looked painful. He’d seen the blast with his own eyes, which also meant he knew that if it was him in your position, he wouldn’t have walked out completely unscathed. 

“You’re not fine.” Bucky broke the ice pack before shaking it as he crouched in front of you. 

For a moment, you recoiled back. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m gonna help you. Would you let me help you?” 

This time Bucky didn’t fully wait for an answer before he placed the ice pack against your ribs for you. And, for a moment, you recoiled from the cold until your body melted into it. 

Okay. Maybe you were hurt, a little. But that still didn’t mean you needed his help. 

“I can hold it myself.”

“You can barely lift your arms.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Bucky shrugged, “You’re getting it anyway.”

“Why?” The question left your lips before you could stop yourself. But it was a reasonable question. 

Save for a few questionable moments outside of the ten minute window you and Bucky could be alone, you weren’t two people that helped each other. Fought with was probably the more likely statement. 

“Because you need it.” 

It was the best explanation Bucky could come up with at that moment. But it still gained him something. 

You were looking him in the eyes. It was rare he ever got to be this close to you and actually see the colour of your eyes. He didn’t quite know how the feud between you and him had started out. But what he did know was that he would happily drown in your gaze. 

And it was thoughts like that, that sent him into a spin. 

So, regrettably, he looked away. But even that gained him something. 

You watched as a smile ghosted its way onto his lips and you followed his eye line to the metal chain around your neck. 

“You’re still wearing them.”

The Dog Tags. The one’s he thought he’d lost nearly three months ago, only to work out you’d had them all along. It had nearly been almost two months, alone, since that night in the training room. 

You raised a hand to touch your chest. You could feel the outline of the tags underneath your clothes. “You told me to keep them safe.”

You watched as a corner of Bucky’s mouth slanted up slightly and, just for a moment, you let your mind wonder what it would be like if you kissed him right in that spot. 

You shook your head and this time, you looked away. You dropped the hand from your chest just before a rattle came over the jet. 

“We’re coming into landing.”

You just nodded, not trusting yourself to use words at that moment. But you gained them again when you stood to get off the jet only for Bucky to put your arm over his shoulder. 

“What are you doing? I can walk on my own, Barnes.”

“You’d only collapse three feet from here. Thought I’d save myself the trouble of catching you.”

You scowled, “Like I told Kate-”

“So help me, God, if you tell me you’re ‘fine’ I’m gonna call Sam. You’ve got a sprained ankle, a few fractured ribs, if not, broken, and a lifetime of bruises to remember today by. And that’s just what I can see.”

You just looked at Bucky, your arm still over his shoulder, his hand still clasping yours. You didn’t know how or why, but you let him help you off the jet. 

But when Wanda asked you about it later on, you just told her it was because you were too tired. 

“It was a moment of weakness.”

Wanda hummed as she sat on the edge of your bed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe? What do you mean, ‘maybe’? There’s no ‘maybe’ about it.”

Wanda chuckled, “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thank you, Shakespeare.”

Wanda hit your leg before climbing up the bed to sit beside you. She grabbed a pillow and crossed her arms over it. 

“Oh, come on. You and I both know you have feelings for him.”

You shook your head. “Yeah, he’s a massive pain in the ass.”

“Those aren’t the feelings I’m talking about.”

You stayed quiet for a few moments. “Stop reading my mind.”

Wanda was calm as she shook her head. “I don’t have to read your mind for this one.”

Your shoulders sagged for a moment and you looked at your hands, picking at your fingers. “It’s not like I meant to let it happen.”

“Nobody ever lets feelings happen. They just happen. It’s what makes you human.”

You just shrugged your shoulders. “He is still a pain in my ass.”

Wanda chuckled. “Have you ever thought to talk to him-”

“No! No. No, absolutely not. No. Never.”

Wanda hummed again. “Maybe it might help. Who knows? Maybe this isn’t a one sided love affair?”

You recoiled a little, again. “Love? Who ever said anything about love? I’m sure it’s just a stupid…work crush.”

Wanda looked at you. She didn’t have to read your mind to know that even you didn’t believe what you’d just said. 

“Hey,” Wanda tapped your leg. “Can I get you anything? You know, since Sam has banished you here for the next week.”

You chuckled. “I’m still allowed to leave…when he’s not here.”

When Bucky had taken you to the medical bay, you’d been given a full diagnostic. A sprained ankle, two fractured ribs, a little bruising around your internal organs that would heal itself, plenty of pulled muscles and, like Bucky had put it, enough bruises to make sure you remembered the day for a lifetime. 

Once Sam had found out, he’d doubled down on the Doctor’s orders to maintain bedrest. 

A few hours after Wanda had left, you were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. And for a while, you just started thinking whilst absentmindedly fiddling with the dog tags still around your neck. 

You thought about the ending of the movie you’d just watched with Wanda. You thought about the pain in your side. You thought about the feeling of Bucky’s fingertips gently pressing at your side as he held the ice pack in place. 

He’d been checking to make sure nothing was broken. That was how he knew. 

Then you looked at the dog tags. Like every night, your thumb traced over the letters. 

Little did you know, the next time someone else traced their thumb over the letters, it was because your blood had been splattered across them. 

Part Three

[foreingersgod]

So so you wanted a small town reader request so I thought of this one. She she’s from a southern small town and plays basketball for the SEC team of her state, she really made a name for herself there, but wants to broaden her horizons so she enters the transfer portal and somehow ends up in Iowa where meet Kate who is OBSESSED with her southern accent. Then it’s just Kate trying to show her interest bc reader is totally oblivious until one of their teammates says something

Southern Charm . KM

pairing: kate martin x reader

synopsis: after transferring to iowa’s basketball team to broaden your horizons, you end up meeting someone who changes your life

A/N: i got a request to do another country fic like this one with kate, so expect one with ‘country kate’ here soon!

also, i’m not very proud of this one so i’m sorry if it’s genuinely shitty lol :’)

NOT PROOF READ

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

ever since you were little, maybe 7 or 8, you were fascinated with basketball. growing up in texas you were exposed to a large following of sports and hard core fans. your family was always repping the pro and college teams of your state with pride, attending several games throughout your childhood. basketball in particular held a special place in your heart. you remember watching the university of texas’ basketball games with your dad, absolutely enthralled by the game. it didn’t take long for your parents to get you involved in the sport. you played in small teams as a kid then on your schools girls basketball teams in middle and high school. and with a lot of hard work and determination, you got into the university of texas to play on their women’s team.

while playing for the university, you made quite the impression on basketball fans. you were quick, had unbelievable stats, and extremely adaptable. you were a pretty valuable player in most eyes. but after two years at the school, you started to feel restricted. there wasn’t a whole lot for you to improve on your skills so you made a drastic decision to enter the transfer portal.

it was an emotional decision. realizing you would be leaving teammates behind as well as your home state was hard, but you longed for something greater. not long after entering the portal, you had transferred to the university of Iowa. you were ecstatic despite having to move away. it was time to broaden your horizons and hopefully expand upon your skill set.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

you had arrived in iowa around a week ago and you were still adjusting. figuring out where all of the buildings were, where the dining halls were located, was a lot for you to handle. hell you could barely remember how to get to your dorm at this point.

you haven’t even met your new teammates, practices not starting up for a couple of days. the anticipation had you extremely nervous.

what if they didn’t like you?

what if they thought you sucked?

the days leading up to your first practice were consumed with these uncontrollable thoughts. but as you laced up your shoes and grabbed your duffel bag, heading out the door, you felt those nagging thoughts dissipate.

when you arrived for practice, opening the large metal doors to the gym, it almost felt like you were right back at home. you wandered over to where the team was warming up, hearing the squeak of the polished floors. quickly, looking up from her clipboard, bluder spotted you a few feet ahead. she met you on the sidelines to officially greet you for your first day.

“ah, YN!” she announced, grabbing the attention of the other girls “nice to see you again, glad you could join us. let’s get you introduced and settled in”

her smile was welcoming as she motioned for the girls to huddle up. everyone gathered around, you being the center of attention as you looked around awkwardly.

“team, i’m sure you’re all aware of our newest member, YN” lisa said “let’s be kind and supportive and help her get settled in on her first day alight?”

everyone nodded “great. YN, would you like to introduce yourself?”

you took a deep breathe as you studied their faces timidly, fidgeting with your fingers and trying to think of something to say.

“um, yea” you managed, hoping you sounded confident “i’m YN, i just transferred from the university of texas..and i’m-uh-really excited to get to know you guys”

the team offered their hello’s, walking up to you one by one to shake your hand politely and introduce themselves. they were all incredibly sweet right away, telling you you’d fit right in and complimenting your skills. you went down the line, excited to get acquitted with the team.

then, at the end of the line, stood kate martin. you had seen her play and you thought she was amazing so you were excited to finally meet her. she approached you with the most genuine smile, eyes lit with zeal.

“hey,” she spoke up, offering her hand to you “i’m kate, it’s nice to meet you YN”

you smiled back at her “it’s nice to meet you too! you’re a fantastic player, i’d be lyin’ if i said i hadn’t been excited to meet you!”

“i’m flattered, really, thank you” you could feel her hand linger on yours as she pulled away from the handshake “so texas, huh? i caught onto the accent!”

you both laughed “yea, i’m from a small town not too far from campus, so i got that signature dialect”

“i think it’s really cute,” she looked down, avoiding your gaze “think it suits you”

“thanks, kate” you blushed, smiling at her once more before bluder summoned everyone to resume warmups.

what a sweetheart.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

it had been quite sometime since you had finally settled into your new team. there was a lot of awkwardness and uncertainty, but you had started to feel like this is where you were meant to be. and like you had hoped, there was so much more room for you to improve rather than back in texas. you were playing amazing games, beating your own records and personal highs on a regular basis. going to iowa was truly the best thing for your career.

you had also grown really close to the girls since arriving. kate, especially, was like your best friend. she had always been so kind and sweet to you. at some point in your friendship, you started to develop a decent crush on the girl, but you had always assumed that she didn’t feel that way about you. so you stayed quiet as to not distrust your connection.

but recently, things have been a little off with kate. she often avoided you during practices and didn’t stay to say goodbye when you left. both things she did on a normal basis and now she just stopped doing it all together. she didn’t even bother to text you or ask about your day, nor did she laugh when you said things funny (she’s always giggled to herself when your accent was thick). you were beginning to wonder if you did something wrong.

it had been weeks of her dismissive behavior and you were starting to miss your best friend. your heart ached at the thought of her not liking you anymore. so you devised a plan to meet her during her extra early practice one morning and confront her, hoping to figure out why she wasn’t giving you the time of day.

it was about 7:00 in the morning, much too early for your liking. you’d never understood why kate, amongst others, wanted to be at practice an hour earlier. but you had managed to get out of bed at 6, suiting up and sneakily heading to the gym. you hoped you could catch her off guard, maybe surprise her so she’d have no choice but to deal with your confrontation head on. you were approaching the doors of the locker room, about to open the door, when you heard kate’s voice echo from inside. freezing in your spot, you shamefully eavesdropped to see what she was talking about.

“no! i’m not going to do that!” she exclaimed.

“why not?” you heard another voice, from the sounds of it, it must’ve been gabbie. “you’re like obsessed with her, just go for it!”

“i’m not obsessed, ok? there’s just something about YN that drives me crazy and i like her so so much, but i’m sure as hell not going say that right to her face!”

you went numb hearing your name fall from kate’s mouth. you tried to move closer to the door, wanting to hear what she was saying a little bit better, but you tripped over your own foot causing you to lunge forward. the doors to the locker on went flying open, your stiff figure busting through the entrance as you immediately gave yourself away.

you stood, completely unable to move as you looking up into the vastness of the locker room. sure enough, there were gabbie and kate, sitting in front of you. their eyes were wide seeing you burst through those doors, realizing they had just been caught talking about you. and it was no secret that you had heard almost everything they were saying.

“i’m so sorry!” you rambled an apology “i was just about to come and talk to kate, but then i heard my name, and i really didn’t mean to intrude like this i’m so embarrassed”

kate sat, also embarrassed as gabbie spoke up.

“i’m going to give you guys some privacy” she said “i think there’s a lot that kate needs to say”

and with that, she walked out of the locker room, leaving you and kate in awkward silence. you walked over to where she sat on the bench to take the seat next to her. she looked at you, hardly able to make eye contact.

“i’m sorry”

“for what?” you asked

“i shouldn’t have been talking about you behind your back. i had no idea you were gonna be here, not that that makes it ok-”

“kate, it’s ok” you placed a hand on her shoulder “i was here early cause i needed to talk to you, but i shouldn’t have stuck around to eaves drop”

“what did you need to talk to me about?”

you sighed, suddenly wishing you didn’t have to bring it up in the first place “it’s just that i’ve felt like you’ve been avoiding me and purposely not talking to me so i wanted to ask why…but i think i already kind of know why…”

“yea” she replied, voice cracking “you weren’t supposed to find out like that”

“if it’s any consolation…i feel the same way” you removed your hand from her shoulder, taking her hand in yours. gentle fingers ran over hers soothingly.

“you-you do?”

“mhm” you grinned “i’ve been too afraid to say anything cause i didn’t know if you felt the same and i didn’t want to ruin our friendship”

she didn’t say anything, just sat looking into your eyes. there were no tears, no anger in her eyes, just a certain longing that only you could recognize.

“i think im in love with you”

“you don’t have to say-”

“no i mean it” she continued “everything about you, from the moment i met you, i’ve been in love with. you’re perfect and funny and gentle, you have the cutest accent i’ve ever heard, and i don’t think i can handle being just friends”

“kate i think i’m in love with you too” happy tears welled in your eyes as you inched closer to her, feeling her breathe on your skin.

“can i kiss you?” she asked, but she didn’t even need to, you would’ve done it anyways.

“please”

and finally, your lips met in the most gentle yet passionate kiss. teeth clashing at the urgency of it, both of you so eager from waiting so long for this moment. you wished you could’ve stayed like that forever. nonetheless, she pulled away breathlessly, forehead resting against yours as you smiled at each other.

“it’s that southern charm” she joked, large hand resting against your cheek “you’re irresistible”

you laughed, pulling her into another kiss, trying to savor this moment for as long as you could.

[ktaerssoi]

can you do a paige fic where paige is down bad like reaaaly down bad only has eyes for reader but reader is so oblivious and paige gets all sad and reader doesn’t know so then paige is like i fucking love you??

its always been you

relationship: paige bueckers x fem!reader based on this request! tysm for answering my post 😭 summary: paige has only ever had eyes for you. notes: omg this was actually sm fun to write tysm and also i would love to hear more of those requests you speak of. anyway ty again!! - kate not proof read!

"i mean really, she thinks she's the shit and just needs to shut up." you were going on yet another rant as you walked through your front door, paige not far behind with your leftovers from lunch.

"mhm, well maybe you need to express to her what she's doing wrong." paige sighs as she opens the fridge to put the food away, grabbing and water for you and herself.

"thanks," you grab the water bottle from her, leaning against the counter. "i guess, but anyway, how have you been." you nudge her playfully with your shoulder, giggling. "any girlsss?"

you watch as her face flushes and she rolls her eyes. you see the smirk on her face as she turns away, letting you know that there was most definitely a girl.

"oooo, who?" you watch as she turns back to you shrugging, taking another sip of water. "i plead the fifth." its your turn to roll your eyes as she keeps her mouth shut.

"oh come on, p! were adults! you can tell me who you think is cute, i wont judge." you cross your arms as you move to stand in front of her, blocking her in slightly. she shakes her head and smiles at you, and the look she gives you is different from the normal ones. she looks at you like you're the only person she ever wants to know.

"i don't know, i don't think you want to know. you guys are sort of close and i wouldnt want to make it awkward, y'know?" she makes direct eye contact with you, you guys standing at the same height due to her leaning on the counter.

"uh yeah, i mean i guess so but i wouldn't tell her." your shoulders drop a little, you didn't want to push her but you were also sort of hurt that your own best friend didn't want to tell you about a girl she liked.

"you seriously don't have any thoughts at who it could be? she's not on the basketball team." paige stands up straighter, now towering over you slightly.

not on the basketball team? paige's life is basketball, i'm like the only friend she has that doesn't live basketball 24/7

needless to say, you were confused. (and dense as hell my gosh)

"is it that one chick that you had to do that group assignment with? the really pretty girl with the braids?" you were thinking to everyone you had seen apige interact with that wasn't on the team, other than yourself you were lost.

"no, you guys are close remember?" paige is looking at you like this is the most obvious thing ever, and you just stare up at her utterly confused.

"you're horrible at this whole hint thing." you mumble, shaking your head as you walk toward the living room to continue your thinking.

paige follows behind sort of deflated, plopping down on the couch next to you, slouching down so her head could rest on your shoulder. "no i mean really, who could it be?" she shakes her head as she goes to grab the remote.

you watch as she channel surfs for the next ten minutes, not finding anything good and eventually turning off the t.v.. "take one more guess and then i'll tell you who it is." paige looks up at you from her spot on your chest.

"okay um, is it that one media girl that were friends with? the one who always comes to dinners with us??" paige's eyebrows furrow, and she giggles to herself a litte, shaking her head.

"nope, but listen, if- if i tell you, you have to swear to me that things won't change. okay?" you nod at her words, never have you seen her this strict.

"are you sure it's not the media girl?" you narrow your eyes as she sits up, sitting across from you now.

"no y/n, its you. i like you. no, fuck it, i love you. i mean, you're amazing and you're the sweetest, funniest person i know and i'm not even totally sure if you're into girls like that but i can help but like you."

she bites her nails as you nod, you're quiet for a moment before you smile. "you think i'm funny?" paige rolls her eyes at you and stands up from the couch, scared that you're trying to let her down easy.

"so if that's a rejection i'm just going to go-" paige gets cut off by you springing up and grabbing her hand to stop her. "definitely not a rejection. i like you too p, like a love type of like. just to clarify." you shrug as you drop her hand, struggling to express that you really do feel the same.

"seriously? you're not just saying that because you're my best friend and you feel bad?" she's looking down at you, studying your face for your honest answer. once you nod you feel her hand on your waist and feel yourself be pulled forward.

your body is flush against hers, you've been in this exact position countless times before, but right now everything was in a whole new light.

your eyes flash down to paige's lips, and then back to her eyes, and to her lips again. "you're really pretty." you mumble, not even thinking about what you were saying anymore.

you watch as her cheeks get pinker, smiling at your effect on her. "shut up," she looks down at your lips, "can i kiss you?" you have never nodded so fast in your life.

her lips come crashing onto yours and it feels so right. you taste her strawberry chapstick against your lips and the smell of her shampoo consumes your senses.

pulling away after a few seconds you look up at her in awe, a stupid smile on your face.

"you really think i'm funny?"

[maaarine]

Scientists Pinpoint Cause of Severe Morning Sickness (Azeen Ghorayshi, The New York Times, Dec 13 2023)

"More than two-thirds of pregnant women experience nausea and vomiting during the first trimester.

And roughly 2 percent of women are hospitalized for a condition called hyperemesis gravidarum, which causes relentless vomiting and nausea throughout the entire pregnancy.

The condition can lead to malnutrition, weight loss and dehydration.

It also increases the risk of preterm birth, pre-eclampsia and blood clots, threatening the life of the mother and the fetus.

Perhaps because nausea and vomiting are so common in pregnancy, doctors often overlook hyperemesis, dismissing its severe symptoms as psychological, even though it is the leading cause of hospitalization during early pregnancy, experts said.

Although celebrities like Kate Middleton and Amy Schumer have raised the condition’s profile in recent years by sharing their experiences, it remains understudied.

“I’ve been working on this for 20 years and yet there are still reports of women dying from this and women being mistreated,” said Dr. Marlena Fejzo, a geneticist at the University of Southern California Keck School of Medicine and a co-author of the new study.

She knows the pain of the condition firsthand.

During her second pregnancy, in 1999, Dr. Fejzo was unable to eat or drink without vomiting.

She rapidly lost weight, becoming too weak to stand or walk.

Her doctor was dismissive, suggesting she was exaggerating her symptoms to get attention.

She was eventually hospitalized, and miscarried at 15 weeks. (…)

The researchers found that women experiencing hyperemesis had significantly higher GDF15 levels during pregnancy than did those who had no symptoms.

But the hormone’s effect seems to depend on the woman’s sensitivity and exposure to the hormone before pregnancy.

The researchers found, for example, that women in Sri Lanka with a rare blood disorder causing chronically high levels of GDF15 rarely experienced nausea or vomiting in pregnancy.

“It completely obliterated all the nausea. They pretty much have next to zero symptoms in their pregnancies,” said Dr. Stephen O’Rahilly, an endocrinologist at Cambridge who led the research.

Dr. O’Rahilly hypothesized that prolonged exposure to GDF15 before pregnancy could have a protective effect, making women less sensitive to the sharp surge in the hormone caused by the developing fetus. (…)

The new study is powerful because it offers genetic proof of a causal relationship between GDF15 and the disease, said Dr. Rachel Freathy, who is a geneticist at the University of Exeter and was not involved in the study.

That will help the condition gain greater recognition, she said.

“There is kind of an assumption made by many people that women should just be able to cope with this,” Dr. Freathy said.

With this biological explanation, she said, “there will be more belief that this is a real thing rather than something in somebody’s head.”"

[judesmoonbeauty]

Black Wedding: The True Vow for a Jet-Black Bride Prologue

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Also, I did this translation at like 1 a.m. so forgive me if I royally screwed this up ☾.

It’s a little butterfly effect.

The threads of fate tie together a promise for a slightly different future.

My vow with William, is proof of my unwavering commitment.

William: No matter what happens from now on you’re my number one, Kate.

My vow with Harrison, is a life full of warmth and love that brings tears to our eyes.

Harrison: Just for now….let me savor this happiness.

My vow with Liam, is to overcome the past and create new memories of happiness.

Liam: Thank you for loving me. You taught me how to be happy.

My vow with Elbert, a future of living in a birdcage made of his love.

Elbert: I love you…….and this feeling will never change.

My vow with Alfons, is proof of an unforgettable existence.

Alfons: So please don’t forget this vow, today, and all the time you have spent with me.

My vow with Roger, is that I am prepared to take everything, and be taken away.

Roger: For the rest of my life I’ll belong only to you Kate. Do you swear to be mine alone?

My vow with Ellis, is a vow to an end filled with happiness that will come someday.

Ellis: Until that time comes, I will continue to make you happy.

My vow with Victor, is a long journey that will continue even after death.

Victor: Even if death snatches us away and our bodies decay, let’s rot in hell together.

My vow with Jude, is a curse of the ring finger that will never let go.

Jude: What, ya can see it. I put a curse on your ring finger.

Jude: What, you’re cryin’ even when you’re happy? I learned somethin’ good.

From lie to truth.

The vow will now become a shining silver token on your ring finger.

[Master List]